J͟͟͟͞͞͞e͟͟͟͞͞͞n͟͟͟͞͞͞n͟͟͟͞͞͞i͟͟͟͞͞͞e͟͟͟͞͞͞.
To many, I am a myth.
The 'Kiss of Death', a hired killer, revered by some of the greatest criminal organisations in the world. Trained by the bratva themselves, without conscience, without mercy.
The per...
I'm sitting in my office in Milan, one of three nightclubs I own in the city. It's on Broadway and by far the most successful of the three.
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(His outfit ^)
We use the clubs to clean the mob's coke money, despite the fact that I own them personally. In theory, I could sack it all off and just have the clubs, but why? The benefit of being at the top is that you're so far removed from the illegal activity that even if the police were to work out that it's me trafficking the coke in and out of the city, they can't pin it on me. I'm essentially untouchable, so with low risk and high reward, why not? Aside from the money, there's the simple fact that he who owns the drugs in this city owns the city. It's a good foothold to climb from.
The door of the office clicks open and Olivia, one of the bar staff, comes in holding a glass and a bottle of scotch, wearing the smallest dress possible. She's blonde with legs for days and curves that I've run my hands over more times than I care to remember. I used to fuck her regularly, right here on this desk, sometimes even at my apartment if I didn't have the time to stop in. But since I've become capo I don't have time for her.
I don't have time for anything that isn't the mafia, the job, the plan.
She smiles and places the bottle and glass on my desk.
I can't be bothered to spare her glance. "Thanks." I focus on the papers in front of me, but she lingers, forcing me to look at her. "That will be all." I say.
Her face falls a little before a seductive smile pulls at her lips. She rounds, flicks long, blonde hair over her shoulder and lowers herself onto my lap.
"Jungkook." She purrs, brushing her lips over my jaw. "I've missed you. It's been months."
Was her voice that annoying before?
I grab her hair and yank her head back until she's forced to bow her back. My free hand wraps around her jaw, gripping it firmly.
"You're hurting me." She gasps, a hint of fear creeping over her features. Jennie would glare at me, egg me on, fucking punch me probably. This simpering seductive shit isn't even getting my dick hard.
I snort and shove her away from me. She lands on the floor in front of me on her knees.
"Get out."
Her eyes gloss with unshed tears. "But..."
My phone rings, and I glance at the screen, Yoongi's name is flashing across it.
"Get out!" I repeat, picking up the phone.
She scrambles back to her feet and rushes from the room.
