The Cover Story (Rewritten)

The Cover Story (Rewritten)

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing2h 20m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sun, Jan 27, 2019
I like to think I run my Mafia like I would run a business. My partner, and second in command, likes to tell me other wise. According to him, grenades and grenade launchers don't improve the "work environment" what ever that means. I protect my people, get rid of those who don't follow my rules, and get rich from buying and selling black market goods. Just weapons and a few drugs. Nothing big. We have a cover business as loan sharks, even if we are in a way. Many of my competitors don't like the idea of a girl being at the top of the charts but who needs them? They lower my demand so my supply isn't worth as much. But don't worry, I'll rat them out eventually. When ever my partner has time to, I mean. The people that work for me either know me too well, or not at all. But thats part of the charm! This is a rewritten version of another story I have written. There will be a different ending!!! Most of the characters won't really change much. The plot isn't that different either.You do not need to read the first story to read this one.
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What happens when you're in the wrong place at the wrong time? She is just at the beginning of her year-long world travels when she falls into the hands of him - an Italian mafia Don driven by the thirst for answers and revenge. When there is something else thrown into the mix - obsession. But is it the healthy kind? -- "I can see it, you know," he continues, his voice as smooth and dangerous as the edge of a blade. "The fear you're trying so hard to hide. The way your hands tremble ever so slightly, the way your breath catches in your throat when I'm close like this." My hands instinctively curl into fists at my sides, nails digging into my palms as I struggle to maintain control. He tilts his head, studying me like a predator sizing up its prey, his proximity suffocating. "You should be scared," he says, the words laced with an unsettling certainty. "Because when I'm done with you, there won't be anything left of that defiance you're so proud of." A shiver runs down my spine. "I've faced worse than you," I manage to grit out, though my voice is barely above a whisper. "And I'm still standing." His lips curve into a sinister smile, a glint of something dark and twisted flashing in his eyes. "We'll see how long that lasts." "Let's go." "No." --

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