The boss's bitch boy (EminemxDre)

Trouble

By the time Dre got home, he noticed the sun slowly rising. Dre sighed sightly, he was about to head off to bed, when loud gun shot fly through the air. Dre ducks down grabbing his gun from his waistband. Ready to shot whoever the fuck dare enter his house uninvited.

Dre heard multiple footsteps running around the halls, like they were looking for something. Dre sent a message.

Get here now, we under attack. Motherfuckers think they can attack

Ice: Fuck, on the way, Snoops with me. Hold tight.

Jean: Already here. Killed two of them.

Dre noticed a shadow stop outside his door, he knew the door was about to be kicked in. Dre was always ready for shit like this. Had guards everywhere incase this happened. Dre had sent Ice and Snoop to check on the shipment that had just come in.

Bang.

The door broke off the hinges falling to the ground. Dre fires shots at the intruders watching them drop one by one. Motherfucking bitches. Think they can break in and not get shot. Ice and Snoop run in guns raised, before lowering their guns slowly at the sight. At all the dead men.

"Vincent, clean this shit up. Snoop I want you to find out who send them," Dre ordered. Vincent nods getting to work. Snoop starts his search for other gangs and mafia in the area or country. Five minutes went by and Dre was still waiting for the information from Snoop on who had broken into the most dangerous mafia house in the country.

Dre barged in, he wasn't a patience person and Snoop knew that. All Dre wanted to know was who the fuck broke into his house and shoot up the place.

"Boss. I can tell you it was a lower gang, but close to Russian mafia," Dre fist clenched, fucking Russian mafia. They were enemies since he can remember. Ever since he took over the mafia at a young age. All he knew was to be emotionless and now that a baby blue eyed boy caught his attention he didn't know what to do. Dre did want him after the blowjob em has given him, he couldn't stop there. He was going to be his, no one could stop him.

Dre also had Snoop find background information on Em and his friend Proof, just to make sure they were clean and weren't working for any mafia or gang. Which they weren't and Dre was glad.

"Ice, I want you to find those fuckers and bring them in, take Jean with you," Dre ordered, Ice nods. he noticed that Dre wasn't relaxed or calm right this moment and he understood why. He wouldn't be either if someone broke in and started shooting around.

Dre ordered the others to get the basement ready for their arrival. He wasn't taking any chances anymore. No more fuck ups. No more Mr. nice guy, not that he was anyways.

Dre had a moment to himself so he decided to texted Em. He calmed him down when he was in a shitty mood, he wasn't sure how Em did it but he did.

Guess who

Who is this?

Aw come on, you know who it is 😏

Dre?

Bingo

How'd you get my number?
Never mind,
your in the mafia.
I'm not surprised,
why you texting me?

Can't I text?
Even after you sucked me off

Don't! Fuck I ain't ever done that, ain't even know why I fucking did it

Think I know, you liked it, like taking orders. Sound about right huh?

No I don't, never did. You don't know me

It had been an hour since Dre was texting Em and to be honest he didn't wanna stop either but he had heard Ice and Jean were back from there mission and had the fuckers in the basement ready for him. About fucking time. He wanted them to pay. His most hated enemy of all time and is hate for the rest of his life, Suge. He didn't wanna talk about that right now.

Dre makes his way to the basement, getting ruin of any emotions he had. He couldn't afford mistakes in this line of work or business. The guards by the door opened for him. Dre enters the room and the temperature drops with how cold he was. It was always like that. He wanted them scared of him.

Dre eyes trailed him, seeing some bruises forming on his arms, face and neck. His guess was either Ice or Jean, then again he knew it had to be both. Dre saw the sight fear in his eyes he was trying so hard to hide. Pathetic really.

"Who sent you?" Dre questioned, he already knew the answer but he wanted to hear it from him, to be sure. Dre knew he wasn't gonna answer him either, code of silence.

"Hand me the knife," Dre barked, he watched his eyes widened now struggling against the ropes. Dre always loved this part of the torture. Loved to hear them scream. He knew no one could help them even if they wanted to.

"I'll ask again, who sent you?" Dre repeated the question, he received spit in his face. Slowly he wiped it off. Dre grips his jaw roughly to the point he almost broke it.

"You wanna play games? We'll play games, just know I always win," Dre lets go, punching him. Dre then dug the knife into his arm, causing him to scream in pain and blood to drip down from the stab wound.

"Fuck you, think that's wanna work?" Trevor groans softly, Ice smirks. Dumb fuck. Dre tilts his head, watching the blood drip to the ground. Dre picks up one of his favourite knives. It wasn't big or small. It was around half the size of his hand. Perfect. Dre bring it close to his face, resting it against his cheek. He saw him grip the chair tightly.

"My bet is you work for Suge, told you to shot up the place. If you didn't you would die, sound about right?" Dre grunts. He seemed surprised by the information. How the fuck did Dre know, fuck.

"My guess was right," Dre drags the knife down Trevors cheek, making him grip the chair harder. Dre place the knife back on the table.

"Continue this tomorrow," Dre smirks softly walking out. Fucking bitch. Heading off to bed for the night.