The Mafia's Angels

8. Welcome to the Mafia

Josephine's POV:

I gulp, before mustering up the courage to face the man who I assumed was in charge of this whole fucking ordeal. I survey my surroundings, realising I'm in a formal-looking office, with large bookcases filled with books and a huge open window, the light curtains fluttering around it from the breeze wafting in. There is a seating area with 4 large, expensive looking chairs surrounding a coffee table to the side, next to a large marble fireplace. Towards the back of the big room, where there is a large set of glass doors that are open, is a large desk, where a man is sitting, reclining in an oversized plush office chair.

I almost expected the man to have a little white cat in his lap that he was stroking, just to complete the whole, super villain vibe. Instead, he's clothed in a white suit shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his tanned forearms. He has dark grey hair, a thick, dark furrowed brow, and almost black eyes. He has some heavy salt and pepper stubble, and an unreadable expression on his face, which I notice is littered with a few healed scars, adding to his terrifying persona.

"Come, take a seat, bellissima," he speaks, his voice low and smooth, with a thick Italian accent, his finger beckoning me.

"Who the hell are you?" I ask, bravely, my voice barely faltering.

"Well, well, well, you fit the name tigrotta," he chuckles. "It means tiger cub. Fits you well bellissima. You're standing in front of me... and yet you're so... feisty!" He begins to walk towards me, his expression still unreadable on his dark, brooding gaze.

"Who are you?" I gulp.

"My name is Salvatore Drago," he drawls, picking up my hand to kiss it slowly. "And if you haven't already guessed, I'm the leader of the mafia."

My mouth drops to an 'o' in shock, and I audibly gasp. Salvatore eyes my expression, a grin forming.

"The... The... THE MAFIA'S REAL?" I ask, incredulously. "I THOUGHT THEY WERE JUST IN THE MOVIES!"

"Yes, of course bellissima, don't act so surprised," he replies simply. I don't know how to react, instead, I stand there, stunned. But the stunned feeling soon turns to terror as I realise I'm standing in the same room as a mob boss, who could squish me like a bug in an instant if he wanted to.

"I think you might be in shock," Salvatore states, towering in front of me, and taking a puff from a large cigar.

"What... what are you going to do to me?" I ask, backing towards the door.

"Well, quite frankly, you know way too fuckin' much, and so I'm gonna kill you," he says, his expression unreadable.

Tears pool at my eyes for the seemingly thousandth time today, and I wipe away the hot sting. Being threatened by a mafia boss was something I never thought I'd have to experience, and yet here I was, cowering in a corner, this monster of a man glaring at me, saying he's going to kill me.

They say in your final moments, you remember all your most important life moments, but my mind is blank, no memories appear that I can grasp at and hold to.

I think it's because I haven't actually experienced anything that memorable. I've barely been able to live, and now I was preparing to die.

"I'll do anything PLEASE, ANYTHING!" I beg, crying uncontrollably now, and trying to open the large doors. Salvatore advances towards me and I recoil even further. "PLEASE I JUST DON'T WANT TO DIE!"

Silence fills the room, and a vacant look clouds the man's eyes, as he looks at me. He quickly clears his throat, before speaking again. Was that a sliver of sadness I saw?