CLAIMED BY THE RUTHLESS MAFIA LORD

Broadway Burlesque The neon lights on the Broadway Burlesque sign kept flickering like it was about to die. Loud music shook the walls and spilled out every time someone opened the heavy door. This place wasn’t for regular people. It was where mafia guys from different clans came to drink, make deals, and sometimes f**k in the corners without starting a war right there. Two black SUVs stopped right in front. The guard at the door stood up straight and fast. The back door opened and a shiny black leather shoe stepped out first. Alessandro DeSantos got out slowly, like he owned the whole street. He was thirty-one, tall, with a cold face that made most men look away quickly. A roll of weed sat between his lips, burning slowly. His gray eyes didn’t show much. He wore a black shirt and trousers that looked normal but hid guns and knives. People called him Venom. He was the top Italian mafia lord, the strongest one, and everybody knew it. He was the main man for Godfather Marco. His men came out behind him. Four of them, hands close to their guns. Alessandro didn’t even look at the bouncer who bowed and opened the door. He just walked straight in. Only two guys followed him inside, Reaper and Butcher. The rest stayed by the cars. Inside the club, the air was thick. Smoke from cigarettes, the smell of strong whiskey, and the heavy scent of s*x. Girls danced on poles with almost nothing on. In the dark corners, some people were f*****g openly, couples, sometimes more than two. Everybody inside looked rough. Tattoos all over, scars, thick gold chains. When Alessandro walked past, the talking got quieter. Bartenders and waiters lowered their heads. Nobody wanted to stare at Venom too long. He went straight to the VIP section where the big bosses usually sat. The curtain opened and there was Pedro on a big couch. Three naked girls were all over him. One was on her knees sucking his d**k, head moving up and down. The other two were kissing his neck and touching him everywhere. Pedro was grunting loud, not caring who heard. One hand in the girl’s hair, the other grabbing a tit. Alessandro stopped a few steps away. His face stayed blank. The weed in his mouth was almost finished. He just waited. Pedro finally looked up. He smiled lazily even while the girl kept going. “Like I thought. Godfather Marco sent you. The old man is too busy to come himself?” We are here for business. Let’s get to it.”Alessandro’s voice came out calm but heavy. “ Pedro laughed a little, then groaned when the girl took him deeper. “You really like what they say. Cold. Marco must be proud of his boy.” Marco was the only man Alessandro respected in this dirty world. After his family got killed when he was ten, Marco took him in, trained him, made him Venom. He was like a father. “You got two minutes,” Alessandro said, checking his watch. Pedro’s smile got smaller. He waved the girls away. They stood up slowly, picked their clothes, and left the room pouting. When the door closed, Pedro sat up and zipped his pants. “Always rushing, Venom,” he said, using the name nobody dared call Alessandro by his real one. “Okay, business.” One guard brought a silver briefcase and opened it. Inside were clean packs of good drugs, cocaine and other stuff. Alessandro nodded at Reaper. His man stepped up, took one pack, and tested it quickly with a small kit from his pocket. After a second, Reaper nodded back. “See? I don’t sell fake s**t to you people no more,” Pedro said, smiling big. Another briefcase, this one black, dropped in front of Pedro. He opened it and his eyes lit up at all the cash inside. “Nice doing business, Venom. We should hang out sometime. You Italians know how to have fun, right?” Alessandro was already turning to leave. He didn’t answer. His men followed. Pedro watched him go and scoffed. “That f*****g kid.” He pulled on his pipe, smoke filling the room. One guard came close. “Job done, boss.” Pedro laughed low. “Good. Let’s see how Marco does without his strong right hand.” He smiled dangerously for a second, then it turned cold. He snapped his fingers and the three girls came back. Soon the room was full of moans again. Pedro forgot everything else, thinking about the trap he just set. --- Outside, the night felt colder. “s**t…” Reaper said when they reached the cars. All their guards were on the ground. Dead. Bullet holes in their bodies. Both SUVs had flat tires, slashed badly. Butcher pulled his gun fast. “This is a setup. Boss, you need to leave now.” Alessandro’s face didn’t change even though his blood was pumping hard. “You two take the money bag and go. Right now.” “Boss….” Reaper tried. “I said go,” Alessandro cut him off. His voice left no room for talk. The two men looked at each other, grabbed the briefcase, and ran toward the side street. They didn’t get far. A big explosion tore the night. Their car blew up in fire and metal. Reaper and Butcher turned back scared. Smoke was everywhere. Guns started shooting from the club doors. More men running out. “Come on!” Butcher yelled, pulling Reaper. “Boss will be fine. He always is.” In the middle of the smoke, Alessandro cursed. “Bastardo.” The blast threw him back hard. Blood covered his shirt from cuts and pieces of metal. His shoulder and back hurt like hell, but he pushed up and hid behind one of the parked cars. His eyes were getting blurry but he held his gun tight. He could hear the footsteps and voices coming closer. “Find him! When you see the bastard, shoot him in the head!” one guy shouted. Alessandro waited, breathing slow. Then he ran out. Bullets flew past him, hitting cars and the road. He shot back fast and dropped five men before hiding again. One bullet hit his left shoulder hard. The pain burned through him like fire. He kept running anyway, shooting over his shoulder. Two more bullets slammed into his upper back. His legs gave out and he fell to the ground. The pain was bad. Worse than anything in a long time. Old memories came fast, his parents and little brother dying right in front of him when he was only ten. He hid under the bed like a scared kid and watched them get killed. He couldn't do anything. Their screams still woke him up at night sometimes. ‘I can’t die like this. Not before I kill every single one responsible.’ He growled and rolled on the ground, dodging bullets while shooting. He took down nine more men before he got up again. Only six left, still chasing him. He slipped into a small alley then into some thick bushes near houses. Blood kept dripping, making a clear path. His body felt heavier with every step. He was getting weak. “The blood trail stops here,” one of the men said. “He is in the bushes. Watch out, he is dangerous.” Alessandro leaned against a big tree, trying to breathe quiet. When the men walked past, he put the silencer on his gun with shaky hands. Then he started shooting. The shots were soft but deadly. The six men fell one after another, surprised looks on their faces. When the last one dropped, Alessandro stepped out slowly. He could barely stand now. Blood ran down his back and shoulder. His eyes wanted to close. Up ahead he saw a small apartment building. It looked quiet. Maybe safe for a little while. He dragged his feet forward, leaving red drops on the ground. Everything was getting dark around the edges. *Just a bit more… I can’t die tonight.* --- At the same time, inside one of the ground floor apartments, Harmony Thompson was jumping on the couch. “Yes! Punch, kick, and I win!” she shouted happily, mouth full of fried chicken. She had her purple headphones on, playing her game like the world outside didn’t exist. Her whole room was purple, walls, bed cover, even her phone case. Purple was her favorite color. She was twenty-one and lived a small life with her big brother Hardin. He homeschooled her, didn’t let her go out much, and made sure she had what she needed even though they weren’t rich. She didn’t have many friends, but she had her games and her music. Her phone rang. She paused the game and took one headphone off. It was Hardin. “Hello brother!” she said, still chewing. “What are you eating?” he asked, sounding calm. “Chicken,” she answered with a small laugh. “Don’t eat too fast. I’ll come home late tonight. Important guest at the club. Make sure you lock the door before you sleep, okay?” “Okay brother.” “You buy the groceries like I said?” Harmony’s eyes went wide. She forgot all day because of the game. “Yes, I did!” She lied quickly and stood up already. “Good. If you are too tired to cook, I can eat something outside.” “No! I will cook for you. What do you want?” “Anything. Just don’t burn it,” he joked softly. “Stay inside safe, Harmony.” She hung up, changed into her purple dress under her hoodie, put her headphones back, and took a small bag. The grocery store wasn’t far. She could go quickly and come back before Hardin knew. She locked the apartment and walked down the quiet street, singing loudly to her BTS song. “Run bulletproof, run! Yeah you gotta run!” She even danced a little on the way, feeling free for once. The store was still open. She picked rice, chicken, some vegetables, and small snacks fast. Paid with the money her brother left and headed home humming the whole way. Back inside, she dropped the bags and started cooking something simple for Hardin. She was cutting vegetables when she saw the full trash bag. “Oh no!” she said out loud. Hardin would be angry if he saw it still there in the morning. She grabbed the bag, put her headphones on again, and ran outside singing, “I’m gonna light it up like dynamite, oh oh!” She threw the trash in the bin and was turning to go back when a bloody hand suddenly grabbed her ankle tight. Harmony stopped cold. She pulled her headphones off fast. Her heart started beating hard. A man was lying on the ground right at her feet. Covered in blood. His clothes were torn and wet with red. His face was handsome but pale and full of pain. His gray eyes looked up at her, strong even though he was weak. “Save me…” he said, voice rough and low. “I don’t want to die…” Everything went quiet for a second. Then Harmony screamed. “Ahhhhhh!”