ＨＩＳ ＡＦＴＥＲＧＬＯＷ - A Mafia Fiction

3- Wakey-Wakey (A)

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I knew you were trouble when you walked in.

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When I found out that the Ajmeras were finally stupid enough to let Amyra out of their sight, I was thrilled. 

Elated.

Happiness dominating my emotions, and all that fancy shit.

The thing is, Jai Ajmera killed my dad out of spite. He's the rival mafia, and we were domineering him in every way. We took over his ports, bought out some of his drug and gun smugglers, we were right on the way to obliterate the Ajmeras.

And then something stuck up Ajmera's ass.

He fought back, declaring war. He kidnapped and murdered my right-hand man's sister, sending her head to us in a box. He hijacked my dad's automated car and crashed it, killing him. Though he never thought that I was able enough to handle the mafia, he was my blood father, and that calls for revenge.

Since his death a year back, I've brought the mafia to greater heights than before. We are powerful enough to take them down, and it starts with the weak link in their workings.

Amyra Ajmera.

This teen, who's now lying tied up in my basement, is the key to damaging the Indian Mafia. I don't know what she knows, or what she does, or what she actually means to them, but she's leverage. If Jai loves his sister half as much as Terry loved his, he'll be willing to give up his whole kingdom for her.

**********

"She's so pretty, Mr. Danes," Noah mutters, making dreamy eyes at the monitor that was recording Amyra's sleeping figure. I slap him upside his head, and he groans, looking at me with questioning eyes.

"Do you want to run a knife on her, Michaels? Scar her, watch her as she cries and her blood flows on the floor?" I ask, glaring at him as I dare him to answer.

"Yes, sir. I will," he says, much to my satisfaction. He doesn't want to, but he needs to. His father trusted me to train him, and I was planning to do just that.

I nod at him firmly, and we both avert our eyes to the computer as we hear a low groan.

Looks like Sleeping Beauty's awake.

**********

"Good morning, sunshine!" I greet in a loud voice as I enter the basement. Amyra opens her eyes, pulling her hand to rub her eyes, and the chain they are bound to clangs noisily.

I mutter, "That was loud for a little girl like you. Might wanna look around first," I say. She raises her head and becomes aware of where she is. Her hands are tied to an extendable chain, and her feet are free. Her dress was a nuisance, so we cut it off, but she was still in her corset top and underwear.

"Pull her up, Terry," I announce, bored already. I look at her figure raising from the ground as I hear the chain reeling her, and when I look up, she's in a standing position, her toes barely touching the ground as her arms are extended above her, tied together to a chain. Her head lulls forward, her dark curls falling over her face as she moans in pain.

"Okay, then," I state, my loud voice echoing off the walls. I look at my captive's toned tan body, her figure accentuated in her red corset top. I go toward her, my fingers brushing against her breast as I remove her hair from her chest, her mafia tattoo now clearly visible. 

Hmm, goosebumps.

"A lioness, hmm?" I wonder, "are you a lioness, 'Myra?" I ask her, but she remains silent. I grab her face in my hand, my fingers pressing against her cheeks. I raise her gaze to me, her honey-brown eyes looking deep into me. The fear that I expected to see there was replaced by mockery, the only emotion visible was determination.

"Oh, go away," she seethes, freeing her head from my grip. 

"Oh, it speaks," I rumble, my deep voice echoing in the basement. She glares at me, a grin on her face.

"That was funny, man, how did you do that?!" she laughs, and continues, mimicking me, "oh, it speaks! Oh, lord, man, that was funny." 

Anger fuels me when I look at her laughing figure. She's laughing? Does she even know who I am?

"Do you even know who I am, Amyra?" I ask her, grabbing her neck in a bruising grip.

"Look, blondie, I don't know who you are, and I honestly don't care. You look like trouble, give me the boss-man vibes, so I'm guessing you are the head of yet another mafia?" she asks, nonchalantly. I wrap my hand around her throat, choking her. She sputters lowly, her face turning a peculiar shade of red.

I laugh.

"Yes, kitten, you guessed half of that. I am someone, whose friend your brother killed," I pause (half-lying), her face contorting into a confused expression. She shakes her head, trying to speak, "H--he c-c--can't," she sputters out, closing her eyes. I release her throat, and she coughs repeatedly.

"It seems like you don't know," I tell her, almost pitying her. She got involved in this just because she was born there.

"I don't believe you, blondie. My brother won't kill anyone, but out of defense," she says, shaking her head. "Look, man, I honestly don't mind if I'm here, but I don't know anything. Why did you even bring me here?" she asks me in a calm voice.

"What do you mean you don't mind being here?" I ask her, mocking her at the end.

"Oh, never mind that. Why did you bring me here?" she says, looking at me with narrow eyes.

"Noah!" I shout, causing him to burst through the door.

"Yes, Mr. Danes?" 

"Do what I asked you to do, Michaels," I tell him, nodding my head at the closet in the corner of the room.

"Can't Mr. Wilson do it, sir?" he comes, whispering near me. I almost slap my face. This kid will be the death of me. I told his father! He's too kind to be in this syndicate! Wilson's gonna hurt her more, exponentially more than Noah would have. But I need that. When I send Jai Ajmera his sister's battered body, that's when he'll know how severe it is.

"Okay, Noah. Tell Terry to take care of Amyra," I tell him, and he nods eagerly. He rushes out of the room and I come near Amyra, tipping her face up to meet my gaze. 

"Okay, blondie, what's wrong, now?" she asks in vexation, making me chuckle.

"I'm going to have that attitude beaten right out of you, kitten," I say, circling her. When I get behind her, I wrap my arm around her waist, her back pressing against my chest, "and then, you're going to be begging for mercy," I whisper in her ear.

With that, I disappear from the room, leaving Amyra's life in Wilson's hands.

Author's Note:

I love clear_infinity! They really gave me a push to continue this story!

Show some love to the comment section and the vote button! And I'll give you a gummy bear, too, if you follow me.

Who found Antony in this chapter *very hot*? 'Cause I did. 

Like, dominate me, sir. That was some hot shit, people. I loved him in this chapter.

And yes, he's blonde. Isn't Chris Hemsworth blonde, too?