LEOPARD LIMO - B. EILISH IMAGINES

005 - MOB MOLL

couldnt resist a mafia billie chapter UGH i could do a whole book on this trope idk why i love it so much

•••

cipriani, manhattan, NY
friday, 12:03 A.M.

"can i tell you a secret?" billie whispered to the husky man in front of her. low-eyed and smirking, she watched as he leaned down to her level.

"you've got those muscles, but they don't mean shit if you don't know how to use your brain," she panted, then spat out splatters of blood and fragments of a back tooth. cockily, she revealed her free hands to her captor with a smile; the coalescence of the thick, crimson liquid and spit seeped in between her teeth and made a river along her bottom lip.

it was usual for someone to attempt to kidnap her on her own turf—her enemies were beyond airheaded and gave the modern mafia scene a terrible name—but it was unusual for her to get hurt in the process. she didn't think much of the initial injury or how she'd treat it, all she could think about is how she was going to cover up the aftermath. she had a date on the weekend and she'd hate to go to it with a bruised jawline.

with the quickest bang and the thudding of a heavy body, billie slithered back upstairs to her little slice of the soho nightlife, making sure to lock the trapdoor behind her. she kept her appearance scarce in attempt to maintain respective experiences between herself and her customers, vanishing into her matte black car. she hated to leave her restaurant early without fraternizing with newcomers, but she didn't want to become synonymous with being a bloody mess in front of them. first impressions were everything to her, at least when it came to her business.

the aching of her jaw was the least of her concerns as the thought of what to do with her captor's body (if he was dead) was consuming her mind much more effectively. she never liked to shoot to kill, but she was furious at the thought of him hurting her and not being able to return the favor. the thought of his burly arm choking her, his big hand making a fist to connect with her face, it was so anger-inducing that she grew more hot-headed than usual. she began to speed through the conveniently and unexpectedly empty streets, gripping the wheel until the hue of her knuckles grew white.

upon arrival at her penthouse, she noticed the kitchen light was on. she never left her lights on before she went out. her heartbeat began to travel up her throat. after quietly attempting to open her front door, she heard the faint sound of oldies playing down the hallway. a sweet, yet unsettlingly unfamiliar voice accompanied billie holiday's rendition of i'm a fool to want you. such a voice sent a shiver down billie's spine. who in the hell could have sneaked past the doorman and broken into her home? more importantly, who had the balls to even think of doing so?

pity me, i need you

i know it's wrong, it must be wrong

but right or wrong, i can't get along

without you

after just a few seconds of holding her breath and slithering to the archway of her kitchen, she impulsively held her gun to point towards one of the open spice cabinets and pulled the trigger. the sound of a bullet penetrating wood pierced her ears and the unique scent of spent gunpowder and smoke filled her sense of smell. she kept her gun pointed to the floor and away from her body, careful not to let its hot tip touch her clothes.