shadows of paradis [various!attack on titan x reader] [mafia!au]

(17) To the One Everyone Forgets About

3/5

Mark Thompson, or Mark the Snake as he was known, was a lanky man with a mischievous twinkle in his dark brown eyes. His curly brown hair was in disarray, and he wore a ratty bathrobe over a pair of faded pajamas. Before Mark could react, Dom grabbed him by the collar and shoved him back into the apartment.

"Whoa, whoa!" Mark yelped, stumbling over his own feet. "What the hell, man?"

Dom kicked the door shut behind them, his grip on Mark tightening. "Shut up and sit down," he growled, pushing Mark into a chair.

[Y/N] closed the curtains, ensuring no one outside could see what was about to happen. The place was a mess, stacks of papers and empty takeout containers scattered everywhere. A faint smell of burnt toast lingered in the air.

"Alright, Snake," Dom said, looming over him. "Let's get to the point. Russo knows you've been skimming funds. Care to explain?"

Mark's eyes darted between the two people in front of him, fear evident in his gaze. "I-I can explain," he stammered. "I needed the money. My mom, she's sick. I needed to pay for her treatment."

The black haired man's eyes narrowed, his hand still gripping Mark's collar. "Do you think we care about your sob story? You know what happens to rats in this business." The hostage raised his hands defensively, a nervous laugh escaping his lips. "Come on, I'm no rat. I just needed a little extra cash, that's all."

The quiet woman finally spoke and stepped forward, her [E/C] colored eyes locked on dark brown ones. "You think Vince will buy that? You should've come to us if you needed help. Instead, you decided to steal. That's a big mistake."

Mark's face paled, and he started to tremble. "Please, don't do this. I'll pay it back. Every cent. Just give me a chance."

Dom's jaw clenched, his patience running thin. "Enough talk, Snake." He raised his fist, aiming to land a punch to emphasize the gravity of Mark's situation. But the man, with surprising agility, ducked under Dom's swing. "Whoa, whoa!" he yelped, stumbling back. "Hold on a second, muscles!"

'Muscles' growled, frustration evident in his eyes. He lunged again, but Mark sidestepped, causing him to crash into a table, sending papers and empty takeout containers flying.

"Hey, careful with the decor!" Thompson quipped, a nervous laugh escaping him. "It took me ages to get it just right!" [Y/N] couldn't help but crack a smile at Mark's antics, despite the seriousness of the situation. "Dom, wait," she said, stepping between the two men. "Let's hear him out."

Dom straightened, glaring at Mark. "He had his chance."

He raised his hands in mock surrender, his dark brown eyes wide with a mix of fear and mischief. "Alright, alright. Look, I get it. You guys are mad. But if you kill me, who's gonna tell you where the money is, huh?"

Martinez paused, his anger simmering just below the surface. "You think you're clever, Snake?"

"Not clever," Mark replied, a hint of a smile on his lips. "Just practical. And I know you guys are practical too. So how about we make a deal?"

Dom exchanged a look with his ex girlfriend, his eyes narrowing. "What kind of deal?"

Mark took a deep breath, his mind racing. "I can get your money back, doubled. And I can give you something even better – information. Russo likes information, right?"

[Y/N] tilted her head, curiosity piqued. "What kind of information?"

"Big stuff," Mark said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Stuff that could give you an edge. I hear things, you know? People talk around me because they think I'm just some harmless goof. But I've got ears everywhere."