The Perpetual Association of Mafia Wives

Matisse And Chloe.

"If you know what's good for you, you'd tell me everything you know about those missing drugs. You're going to die anyway." The Boss sneered, squeezing the man's jaw in his first.

"Bastard!" The man spat, earning a heavy slap.

"I WILL NOT TOLERATE A TRAITOR AND MUCH LESS A SCHEMING-"

"MATIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIISSSSSEEEEEE!" Came a shrill cry followed by pattering feet. "Where are youuuuuuuuuu!"

"In the basement honey!" The Boss called back.

Seconds later, a slim Asian woman came bounding down the basement stairs in nothing but a silk robe.

"Matisse Antonio Ficilli. You have some nerve!" She fumed.

"Chloe honey, now is not the time you see, I'm in the middle of-"

SMACK!

"I LEFT SALMON IN THE FRIDGE AFTER DINNER LAST NIGHT TO MAKE FISHCAKES FOR TONIGHT ONLY TO FIND YOU HAD IT FOR LUNCH!" She screamed in his face. "Baby you know not to touch the food in the blue tubs and I made sweet chilli shrimp for your lunch in the morning."

The Boss frowned at his wife. "I'm sorry babe. I didn't see them and nobody told me."

"Well obviously, we gave the staff a day off."

"I'm so so sorry." The Boss shook his head, his wife made the best sweet chilli shrimp. "But Chloe, you know I hate when you slap me in front of prisoners."

His wife scoffed. "That little bitch won't live to see tomorrow. Now tell me what you think."

Her mood quickly flipped as she opened up her dressing gown for her husband's eyes only.

The Boss eyes double in size as he lustfully stared at his wife. But when he reached out to touch she slapped him away.

"If you behave this evening then you can do what ever you want." She said, doing up her dressing gown. "Otherwise forget getting anything for the next week. Don't make me waste my time."

With that, Chloe Rose Ficilli, ran out of the room and slammed the door.

"Women huh..." The man said after some awkward silence, earning a bullet in the shin.

"If you're not telling me about those missing drugs shut the fuck. In fact..." The Boss quickly emptied a round in the man's head. "I don't need you. Dan, clean this mess up."

Without another word, Matisse stalked out of the basement and up to his room where he found his wife struggling with her dress zipper.

"Oh good you're here. Be a dear a help me out." She said to him.

He smirked, as he approached her. But instead of doing the rest of the zipper, he undid it and slipped his finger under her thong.

"Hmmm. Maybe I'll just fuck you on the dresser." He mumbled.

His wife looked at him with that adorable angry pout of hers.

"Sorry honey, but these have to go." Matisse said before ripping the thing off.

"MATIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIISSSSSEEEEEE!!"