𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥'𝐬 𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐨 (𝐛𝐰𝐚𝐦)

- 9 -

- nanami pov -

I walked towards the boardroom in my main office. Toji, my second in command, had scheduled a mandatory meeting to go over our plan and to make sure all elements of it were in check. So far, Toji had carried out all my commands, but I decided to attend that meeting to oversee all the progress made.

As I walked through the double-doors of the boardroom, all heads turned in my direction as I walked towards my chair at the head of the table. Fear evident in most of their eyes. My men nodded towards me before I sat down. I turned towards Toji making sure he was already, before proceeding with the meeting.

"Gentlemen, how far along are we with the preparations. You know, I wanted to execute the plan in a little over a week from now."

One of my headmen stood up and went on to explain everything they had organized for said mission, in great detail. He then turned, to face me with a satisfied look on his face.

"And the living arrangements? I did not hear you mention that in your little address there." I questioned while looking down in disinterest. A hint of sarcasm lacing my words.

"Well, sir, I assumed that she would be staying in the holding cells in the stronghold-"

"When the fuck did we say she was a prisoner!" I banged my hand on the boardroom table. "Prepare one of the guest rooms for her. How do you expect somebody to agree and cooperate with us, if you fools insist on treating them like a criminal," I said lowly, the rough texture of my voice making an appearance.

The rest of the meeting was a daze, and before I knew it, all my men stood up and left, leaving Toji and I in the room.

"Che succede con la tua gente?" I asked, "Sembra che qualcuno abbia perso la barca." We both lightly chuckled.

[What is up with your people? Seems like somebody missed the boat.]

"Hanno decisamente dimenticato quanto siamo indulgenti. A quanto pare, nella mafia francese, dire una cosa del genere ti proietterebbe una pallottola in testa."

[They definitely forgot how lenient we are. Apparently, in the French mafia, saying anything like that would get you a bullet through your skull.]

Toji and I continued on with our banter, until I decided to leave the boardroom and made a B line towards my bedroom. But before I could even turn the knob to open my door, the sound of my secretary's heels clashing against the hard wood floor and her annoying, ear deafening voice, calling my name, rang through the corridor.

"Miss Morales." I said in a low tone, while turning around to face her. "What do you want?"

Once her loud clanking was over, and she stood by my side, she turned to her 'default position'. Head and neck up. Boobs practically spilling out and exhaling all the air out of her lungs. All this to try and catch my attention. You'd think she would know, by now, all the rummers about me not having a serious partner, because she's so drawn to me, but... Crickets.

"Sir the shipments are due to arrive tonight, would you like me to arrange transport for you, or would you prefer to drive yourself?" Miss Morales said, attempting to spike her words with seduction. Like nails on a chalkboard.

"Send Mattias to check it out. I've had enough today." I quickly replied, trying to shoo her away.

"Are you sure sir, I was planning on accompanying you to make sure things go well- "

I slammed the door on her face.

"Porca puttana" I muttered under my breath.

[Bloody hell]

Once I heard a sigh then finally her heels walking away from my door, I sank into the sheets of my bed. This mission was going to be incredibly challenging to pull off, but the reward would be massive. A huge jump up the mafia social ladder, and a ton more respect for the 'underdogs'.

After feeling the tension in my muscles relax slightly after a few hours, I made my way towards my bathroom to clean myself off and get ready for the night. Flipped the tap on and waited for the entire bathroom to be encompassed in steam, before stepping under the shower head.

The peacefulness of my expertly designed bathroom, mixed with the humidity of the room, created a serene environment, that lulled all the stress from my day. As a mafia don, especially one of a smaller mafia, life was extremely stressful. Creating a name for ourselves, while simultaneously trying not to step on the bigger group's toes, left me constantly tense and drained. Regardless of the effects of my line of work, I stuck with it, knowing that all this hard work and sleepless nights would pay off.

I dried off, moisturized and got dressed ins a pair of velvet sweatpants. Although our mafia was a little tight on money, clothing was one area where we definitely splurged quite a bit. In our suits, shoes, dress shirts and even loungewear.

'How would we expect other mafias to take us seriously if we're dressed like Joe from the cheapest diner in town?'

I grabbed my phone and walked towards the door, making sure it was locked before leaping onto my king-sized bed.

Time for my nightly stress reliever

. . .