My Cruel Mafioso

Episode 1

The sunlight entered Victor's room, reflecting off the window. He had decided to wake up a little later since it was the weekend, but his cell phone rang, pulling him from his lovely, restful sleep.

Victor: What the fuck!

He spoke, immersed in stress.

Rubens: Calm down, man, it's about the weapons. We need you to come down to, you know where.

Victor: Couldn't you have called me a little later, damn it?

Rubens: No, our negotiators are sayi-

Before he could finish speaking, Victor hung up the phone and threw it to the other side of the bed.

"My day starts badly, and I already have no peace". Victor thought before getting up and going to the bathroom to take a cold shower, which was part of his morning routine.

After showering, he dressed in his usual clothes. A black suit, dress pants, and the gun tucked away in the inside pocket of the suit. After fixing his hair and putting on the perfume that matched his pheromones, he went to the kitchen where he had a glass of milk and some cookies.

He left the house and went to the parking lot, where he got into his black imported car from Russia.

He arrived at an abandoned and well-isolated warehouse that no one had access to except his men and some negotiators, both for drugs and weapons.

Rubens, Victor's right-hand man and also a certain friend, walked up to him, observing the look of displeasure on his face.

Victor: So, what will be worth my loss of sleep?

Rubens: It's the man from that day. I warned him that you would be sleeping, but he said he couldn't leave it for another day.

Victor: Right, but next time, you know, dare wake me up, and I'll break your dick.

Rubens smelled the amount of pheromones Victor was exuding from such hatred. Knowing what could happen, Rubens didn't say another word, so as not to stress him out even more.

Victor: Are you Mr. Romanov?

He addressed the gray-haired, unshaven man with a smile on his lips.

Romanov: I am. I came to bring the weapons I promised from the last negotiation.

Victor analyzed the man who appeared to be of a certain age, thinking about the probability of benefiting from the deal. Apparently, he was in need of new stock.

Victor: Show me the weapons.

Romanov moved closer to put his hand on Victor's shoulder, who stepped away at the same moment, frowning. Demonstrating total severity in his gaze.

The man felt a chill run down his spine but didn't let his fear show. He maintained his composure and led Victor to where the trunk of the car was open, revealing the quantity of weapons available for negotiation.

Victor: This is of interest to me.

He said, looking closely and picking up one of the rifles that had caught his attention.

Romanov: So, what do you say? They are all of excellent quality.

Victor signaled Rubens to bring a black briefcase and hand it to him.

Victor: I'll take them all, this - he handed the briefcase to Romanov - is the payment for them.

Without a moment's hesitation, the man opened the briefcase and looked at the amount of money. He looked at Victor and shook his hand.

Romanov: Thank you for your preference in our products.

Victor didn't say anything, just nodded and watched the man who was about to leave with his men in black. He aimed the loaded rifle and fired the first shot into Romanov's head, who fell to the ground dead.

Before his men could retaliate, they were quickly shot by Victor's men, who were more agile.

Rubens watched the scene and thought, "What a mess!"

Unable to stand the suspense, he asked Victor.

Rubens: Why did you kill him?

Victor: Just by the pheromones I smelled from him, I could tell he was a stone in our path.

Rubens: But...

Victor: I had one of my hackers do a deep search on him. Now don't argue for someone who is already dead.

Victor continued towards the exit without another word, merely signaling for one of his men to clean up the mess.

Victor: That old man's weapons are of good quality; at least it wasn't a waste of time.

Rubens got into the car with Victor, confirming.

Victor: Let's go to the ball tonight; I have to get rid of my stress.

Rubens: Which ball?

Victor: The same as always.

Rubens dropped Victor off at his house, telling him that he would pick him up for the ball at 8 o'clock that night. Every Friday and weekend they would go to the same nightclub.

\_\_\_\_\_ °° \_\_\_\_\_

Name: Victor

Age: 26 years old

Origin: Dominant Alpha

Sexuality: Bisexual

Name: Rubens

Age: 30 years old

Origin: Omega

Sexuality: Gay

\*\*\*

Wiven: USELESS!

He yelled, throwing one of the men to the ground, taking out all his anger at having to say once again how to execute a defense.

Arthur: Take it easy, Wiven, he's just a rookie!

Wiven: You think a rookie has all day to learn our high defense? Honestly.

He spat on the floor, glaring furiously at the man, who looked up at him from the floor in fear, feeling like he could be killed at any moment.

Arthur: If you're too temperamental, it's going to be hard to choose someone excellent for our side.

He said it with the intention of making Wiven think he was overstepping the mark with such stress from having a short temper.

Wiven: Great, then you stay here with him since you have more patience than I do. I'm going to train, and I don't want a headache.

With his final word, he went to the training room, where he picked up his gun and practiced his aim. Wiven had been quite skilled since he was 15 years old, acquiring a resistant body and always getting into fights with his father despite being just a teenager and a boy at the time.

* Flashback *

Wiven: Dad, I'm exhausted!

He said in the midst of exhaustion, after carrying ten heavy boxes to the shed.

Frank, Wiven's father, looked at his son with displeasure.

— STOP BEING LAZY, THE REASON FOR YOUR EXISTENCE IS TO DO THINGS THE WAY I TELL YOU TO!

Wiven looked at his father tremblingly, grabbed the box, even though he was exhausted and continued on his way. He barely knew what was inside.

After Frank went to talk to the men, Wiven went to the last box he had carried and opened it.

He saw several bags containing a white powder inside. Out of curiosity, he took one out and put it in his pants pocket. If he hadn't done it seconds before, he would have been caught by his father, who noticed his absence.

Wiven: I was checking if you had all 50 boxes, Dad.

He said with his head down until he received a slap on the head from his father.

Frank: I don't want to know about that, just why you weren't there when I was talking. Useless brat.

He pulled Wiven's ear, dragging him to the middle of the men.

Wiven: That hurts!

Frank: You don't look like an alpha! More like a fragile and pathetic omega who's not worth a dollar.

That night, completely distraught, Wiven skipped dinner and just went to his room. He took the little bag of white powder out of his pocket and opened it.

He stared intently, wondering what it was, what his father was doing with that stuff, what it was for. These questions didn't leave his mind until the moment he stopped thinking, when he sniffed the powder.

He felt an efficacy in his body, a racing heart, and an instant adrenaline rush he had never felt before.

* Flashback off *

"Damn, I need to distract myself. There are only incompetent people in my pack, but I will still make you proud, Dad, even though you're burning in hell now."

Wiven gave a psychopathic smile as he shot six times at the same target, without missing a single shot.

Arthur shouted, quickly coming to see what he wanted.

Wiven: Let's go to that ball you mentioned earlier.

Arthur: What are you thinking?

— Not your business, just do as I say!

Name: Wiven

Age: 28 years old

Origin: Dominant Alpha

Sexuality: Unspecified

Name: Arthur

Age: 25 years old

Origin: Alpha