"Mafia?"
"Yes love. Mafia."
No, no way he's in the mafia.
I look at the table on my left a table covered in pictures, pictures of dead people.
All males, all people I had interacted with.
I stare at one picture, I recognise the guy, I danced with him at the club. My eyes find another picture he's the guy who bumped into me last week and blamed it on me, I barely muttered two word to him.
"Why?"
"Why what angel."
"Why did you kill all of these people."
He started walking towards me and I started walking away, I quickly turn around and ran towards his office door slamming it open, I ran trying to get out of his house, away from him.
I was about to enter the last digit of the passcode to open the door, but I felt his cold hand enclose around my wrist, turning me around and pushing me against the door.
"You. I killed all those men
for you."
"Please let me go, please don't hurt me." His fingers glided across my face wiping the one lone tear.
"You're as crazy as me if you ever think I would hurt you love."
A/N: Before you say anything, yes, I know that this is not how mafia works, but it's an imagination, so why not?!
