Murder Love ||Mafia Byler Story||

Part 2

Third Person POV:

"Thank you, I hope we can continue our deal in the future," Joyce says, smiling at Karen. The woman was smiling back, clasping her hands in front of her.

Mike had his arms crossed, standing next to Hopper. He was avoiding looking at his mother, choosing to stare at a crack in the wall instead. He huffed a sigh of annoyance as the two women continued chatting politely.

There was a girl standing next to Karen, who was wiping away tears as she balled her eyes out.

Weakling. Mike thought. She's the daughter of a high mafia and she chooses to look so weak in front of us? Pathetic.

She must be Jane, the youngest and only daughter of the Byers family. When the groups arrived, she was shaking in her boots, sniffling back sobs. Each of her family gave her a huge hug and words of love and shit like that, and Mike was standing there glaring at them, because he wasn't jealous. He was not.

He only got a glare from his mother. 'Don't fuck this up', she had said.

Thanks mom, thanks so much.

William, Mike knew his name, was standing on Mike's other side, looking as vigilant as he did the last time the two met. He was weird. Mike didn't like him.

"See you some other time," Karen says, grabbing Jane by the shoulder and steering her to the door. Mike grit his teeth and scowled.

Then the door opened, and one of the guards came in, carefully holding a book in his hands. Everyone's attention turned to him, and you could tell he sweat-dropped.

Mike moved forward, snatching the book out of the man's hands.

"Alright, we can go now," Mike says, turning and walking back over to the Byers family. He didn't look back at his mother, even though he could feel her gaze. His fingers subconsciously started fiddling with the small strap on the journal as he followed Hopper out of the room.

It was silent for a few minutes as they left the building and walked to the car they were using. Great. Mike thought. A limo.

Mike glanced around at them, his brain going a mile a minute as he thought of what they would do to him while he was technically imprisoned with them.

William opened the door to let Mike in, and the ravenette glared suspiciously at him as he entered the car.

The car was built strangely, with the backseat of the limo around the whole car, aside from the parts for the doors. Mike sat down and watched carefully as the rest filled in as well. William, to Mike's dismay, sat next to him.

Once the chauffeur started the car, Mike's grip tightened on his journal. His eyes darted around in nervousness.

Joyce gave him a soft smile. "So, Micheal, tell me about yourself," She says kindly.

Mike blinks at her, his eyes giving away his confusion.

"We're not trying to make you feel like a prisoner," Joyce says. "We've made a deal with your mother for peace, and that's what we all want."

He frowns. There was another moment of silence. "I'd like to be called Mike," He says finally.

Joyce smiles. "Alright, Mike," She says. "See, if we get more comfortable with each other this won't be as hard."

His grip on his journal loosens slightly, signalling Mike's relaxation.

"Do you like drawing?" Joyce asks, which is immediately met with a glare. The grip on the book is tightened again, and Mike looks out the window, staring at the landscape around them. Joyce takes the rudeness well, just smiling again.

...

"This will be your room for your stay," William says, showing Mike inside. "I hope it meets your standards."

Mike's eyebrow raised a bit as he looked around the room. It was quite a large and spacious room, with multiple things Mike would've thought they wouldn't have given him. A king sized bed, with many pillows and blankets, caught Mike's attention.

Well, at least I can sleep well. He thinks sarcastically as he walks over to a desk, placing the journal on the top of it.

"Thank you," Mike says to William, outright dismissing him.

The brunette stayed at the door for a moment. "I'd like to be called Will," He says softly, before shutting the door.

Mike's eyes darted to the closed door. For such a quiet person, he has a beautiful voice. He thinks. Then his cheeks flush in annoyance. What the hell, me? He's a random boy I've only known for like two days.

Sighing, he moves over to the bed, jumping into the middle and bundling the blankets around himself.

He stares at a crinkle in the sheets, frowning. How long am I going to be here? He thinks to himself. I didn't tell Lucas or Max about this.. His eyes droop and he stretches out before curling in again. Well, gotta stay vigilant.

I wonder if Holly and Nancy are alright. He thinks as his eyes shut, and he dozes off.

Will frowns as he uses his paintbrush on the canvas in front of him. He didn't like this deal. Practically imprisoning this random boy while Jane was off in an incredibly dangerous mafia? No thank you.

"Micheal of the Wheeler Mafia is asleep," The AI says from his speaker. He glances at it, his frown deepening.

"Call him Mike," Will says after a moment.

A beeping sound indicates the AI heard him, and he continues painting. That boy is way too pretty for his own good. Will thinks, feeling almost annoyed at the prospect.

And he was rude. Will almost gaped at him in the car on the way here for the way he was acting towards his mother. He could tell his father wanted to punch him into the sun by the face the man made. Luckily, Joyce did handle it well.

He's good with a gun too, Will thinks. For some reason, his mind kept circling back to the boy. I wonder how long he's trained with it.

That would mean he's probably too dangerous to keep around.

He sighs, moving away from the painting to wash out the paintbrush.

<^> To Be Continued

(1k words)

:D