The Mafia Don Dark Obsession

CHAPTER 3

Gerald stepped out of the private elevator into the underground parking area beneath the building. The memory of Lily still burned in his mind. Her tight wet p***y squeezing around his c**k, those soft moans, the way she pushed back against him like her body already knew its owner. f**k, she felt perfect. He had seen her once, during his visits to one of the bars he owned and he wanted her instantly. But one thing he does not do is share his toys.

He adjusted his jacket as he walked toward the waiting black SUV. No one could see how his blood still ran hot from the hard f**k he had just given her.

She was his now. Completely. The thought brought a dark satisfaction that settled deep in his chest. He had paid a fortune for her, and he planned to use every single inch of that body whenever he wanted. But business came first. Always.

The drive to his main headquarters took only fifteen minutes. Gerald stared out the window at the city lights. Crimson Hollow belonged to him. The streets, the clubs, the shipments. Everything. Yet the image of Lily naked and covered in his c*m kept flashing back. He wanted more already. He wanted to break her down and build her back up until she craved only him.

The SUV stopped at the entrance of the tall building that served as the nerve center for his operations. Two armed guards greeted respectfully as he passed. Gerald took the elevator straight to the top floor. His office was large and cold. Dark wood furniture, leather chairs, and a wide desk that faced the city skyline. He poured himself a glass of whiskey and sat down. The drink burned nicely.

A knock sounded on the door.

"Come in," Gerald called.

Mako entered. His second in command was a tall, muscular man with a shaved head and a scar across his left cheek. He had been with Gerald for twelve years. Loyal as a dog and just as deadly.

"Boss," Mako said. "We got the guy who f****d with our last shipment. He's in the lower cells. Still breathing, but not for long if you ask me."

Gerald's eyes sharpened. The shipment trouble had cost him money and respect from his clients. He finished his whiskey in one swallow and stood up. "Good. Let's go have a chat."

They took the elevator down to the basement levels. The air grew colder and smelled of damp concrete and blood. Two more guards waited outside the metal door of the interrogation room. Gerald rolled up the sleeves of his shirt as he stepped inside.

The man sat tied to a metal chair in the center of the room. His face was already bruised. Blood dripped from his split lip. He looked up when Gerald entered and spat on the floor.

"Well, if it isn't the big bad self proclaimed king himself," the prisoner sneered. "Gerald f*****g Maldovo."

Gerald walked slowly around the chair. His voice stayed calm but carried deadly weight. "Hmm…..You seem to have a lot to say, your activities cost me a lot of money, start talking. Who sent you?"

The man laughed, a wet, ugly sound. "Go f**k yourself. I ain't telling you shit."

Mako leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. He watched quietly. He knew how these things usually ended.

Gerald grabbed the man's hair and yanked his head back hard. "You think this is a game, hmm? I have all night. You will break. They always do."

"f**k you," the prisoner hissed through bloody teeth. "You will die just like your old man. Gutted like a f*****g pig in the street. Pathetic."

The words hit like a knife. Gerald's father had been killed five years ago in a brutal ambush. They still did not know exactly who ordered it, though Gerald had his strong suspicions. The wound had never healed. Rage exploded inside him, hot and blinding.

He pulled out his gun in one smooth motion. The prisoner’s eyes widened for a split second.

"Wait—"

Gerald pressed the barrel to the man's forehead and pulled the trigger. The gunshot echoed loudly in the small room. Blood and brain matter splattered the back wall. The body slumped forward in the ropes.

"f*****g piece of s**t," Gerald muttered. His hand stayed steady, but his jaw clenched tight. No one talked about his father. No one.

Mako did not flinch. He had seen this side of his boss many times. "Clean shot, boss."

Gerald holstered the gun. His breathing slowly returned to normal. "Check him for tattoos, marks, anything that might tell us who he worked for. Wallet, phone, everything. I want to know who sent this bastard."

"Got it," Mako replied. He waved at two men from outside. They started searching the dead body while Gerald watched.

The guards pulled off the man's shirt. They checked his arms, chest, and back. Nothing. No familiar tattoos. No symbols from rival families. Just old scars and fresh bruises. They emptied his pockets. Cheap phone, cash and fake ID. Nothing useful.

"Nothing stands out, boss," Mako reported after a few minutes. "No ink we recognize. The phone is probably a burner. We'll try to pull what we can, but it looks like a ghost."

Gerald cursed under his breath. "Keep digging. I want answers. If another shipment gets touched, more heads will roll."

He turned and walked out of the cell. Mako followed close behind. The other two stayed to clean up the mess. Blood would be washed away like it always was. In their world, death was just another part of business.

Back in the elevator, Gerald straightened his sleeves. The anger still simmered, but the image of Lily flashed in his mind again. Her soft skin, the way she moaned when he f****d her hard from behind. He needed to bury himself in her again soon. She would be a good way to release this tension later.

"We have a meeting with the Russo crew tonight," Mako said as they reached the ground floor. "They want to talk about new routes through the docks. Are you still good to go?"

"Yeah," Gerald answered. "We go in strong. I am not in the mood for their bullshit tonight. If they try to push for more money, remind them who controls this city."

Mako grinned. "They never learn."

Gerald gathered four more of his best men in the main lobby. All of them carried guns and wore serious expressions. They moved as a unit toward the line of black SUVs waiting outside. Engines roared to life as they climbed in.

As the convoy pulled away from the building, Gerald lit a cigarette and took a long drag. The meeting ahead would decide how much blood would flow in the coming weeks. But later, when business was done, he would return to Lily. He would f**k her again, harder this time. Maybe tie her up and make her beg.

For now, the king had work to do.

The cars sped through the night toward the meeting point. Mako sat beside him in the back seat, checking his own weapon. The other men followed in the vehicles behind them. Crimson Hollow never slept, and neither did its rulers.