In the morning, you were up and about, trying to find Mr. Darling as you strode down the halls of the Family's headquarters, asking around for him.
Eventually, you gave up, and decided to go stand outside his office like you usually do.
Until you heard barking.
Memories flooded back, your old mafia boss shouting at you, dragging you outside, tying you down as a pack of fighter dogs barked and snarled.
Then they let them loose, right at you.
You were snapped out of your flashback as you realized it was a group of men imitating a canine, most likely due to the fact that people in the Family started calling you 'the Boss's guard dog.'
As much as you hated to admit it, they were kinda right.
You were snatched from your thrilling, wanderlust life as an assassin to become the Boss's little lap dog who yipped at whoever got too close.
You hated it.
Approaching this particular gaggle of immature men, you pulled your pistol off the holster that had been attached to your belt, brandishing it at the group threateningly.
"The next damn bitch that barks at me gets 17 holes in their head. Am I understood?"
The men seemed frightened, and they all nodded, making excuses to leave. You're pretty sure you heard one mumble "I gotta go walk my fish," and you weren't sure if it pissed you off or made you want to laugh.
Then, you felt a firm arm around your shoulder.
You turned around to press the barrel in-between their eyebrows, looking them dead in the face.
You knew those eyes. Oh shit, it was Wally!
You put the gun back, apologizing profusely. He laughed, seeming unaffected by the fact that you almost shot him.
"Why so tense, sweetheart? Did someone piss you off or something?"
He had on a charismatic smile, that somehow seemed to remind you that he was the man running the show.
"Yes," You said, a snarl in your voice.
"Ah, poor Doll, why don't you follow me and I'll tell you about a mission I'm gonna have you on?"
He tried to move as if he was attempting to lead you away, his arm still around your shoulder, and you reluctantly let him, shooting a hateful glare at the group of men.
Out of earshot, Wally let go of you.
"How the fuck did they get you that angry, Doll-face? I don't usually see you that mad, ever." He asked, more out of curiosity than out of anger.
"They were barking at me."
Wally laughed at that, seeming to not believe you.
"Boss! I'm serious!" You retaliated angrily, in that same tone when he asked you about your scars.
That seemed to get him to realize you weren't joking.
"Oh. Okay. Well... if they do it again, tell me, and I'll have them dealt with, doll. I can understand if you can't wait and they end up with a few rounds through 'em, though."
'Thanks."
"By the way, take this. It's important, and you cannot let anyone else read it. If you did, I'd have to kill both you and whoever read it. I'm letting you off early today, tomorrow we have quite a bit of work to do."
He handed you a letter with a wax seal, the Family's insignia imprinted on the seal. The envelope was soft, a dark maroon color.
You nodded, walking away.
YOU ARE READING
Drastic Measures - Mafia! Wally
Fanfiction"Doll, you're lucky you're my favorite. If anyone else had pulled that stunt I would have killed them on sight." -- *°•♤•°* -- Recently, the Head of the Family, who everyone refers to as Mr. Darling, has taken considerable interest in your work as a...
