Taming My Savage Mafia

A Man’s Plaything

Michael’s hand hovered near his ankle, ready to draw his concealed pistol. His eyes narrowed, tracking the four strangers who had suddenly emerged from behind the velvet curtains.

Seeing his guarded stance, Harmer let out a dry chuckle. “Haha, for a second I thought you’re the bravest alive. Relax, Boy. I only want to show you something.”

The old man, a veteran of the illicit drug trade, gave a sharp nod. Immediately, the blonde woman beside him lunged, attempting to snatch a single rose from Harmer’s aide.

She was clever, realizing her raw strength was no match for four hulking men. Instead, she moved like a shadow, targeting their vital points with surgical precision. The skirmish in the cramped room shattered several tables, but her lithe frame was far more agile than her opponents. Within moments, all four men—each triple her size—collapsed, gasping for air after she struck their solar plexus and delivered a punishing blow to their groins.

“Boss.” The woman knelt, presenting the rose she had seized. It was perfectly intact, without a single bruised petal.

Harmer glanced at Michael, a smug grin on his face. “Impressive, isn't she? I’ll give her to you as a gift.”

“What’s the catch?” Michael asked, finally playing along with the old man's game.

“The mine behind your Realgar Mountain.”

“The gold there isn't as plentiful as you’d imagine,” Michael countered.

Harmer’s grin widened. “It’s not the gold I’m after. It's arsenic. The deposits must be massive if mined correctly.”

Michael’s brow furrowed. This man knew too much. That mine had been intentionally left derelict to avoid drawing eyes, precisely because arsenic was a chemical that could be easily weaponized. And yet, this reclusive dealer knew exactly what lay beneath the soil.

“You’re a medicine peddler, but arsenic is a toxin. What’s your angle?” Michael stared directly into Harmer’s eyes.

“Boy, a brat like you wouldn't understand the true utility of arsenic.”

“ I use it to kill people, tho.” Michael said flatly.

“Well, that’s the common use. Odorless, colorless ... people just drop dead.” Harmer leaned over the table. “But when heated, arsenic transforms into salvarsan. I plan to distribute it as a cure for syphilis.”

Syphilis—the divine punishment for those who failed to control their lust. Similar to HIV in its social stigma but caused by bacteria and spread through s****l contact, it was a frequent 'souvenir' for those who frequented nightclubs and slept with strangers.

“Don’t tell me you expect to trade mine for just one useless woman.” Michael tilted his head, well aware of the mine's true worth.

“Twenty percent of the profits go to you. I’ll also pay an annual lease for the site.”

“And if I refuse?”

Harmer raised both hands in a mock gesture of surrender. “Well, I can’t force you. But I can offer you information.”

“Such as?”

“The owner of the club you burned down? He’s a relative of mine. They’re planning a war.”

“I’m not surprised at all.”

“They’ve enlisted the Black Lions. That organization has been your family’s enemy since your grandfather’s time, hasn't it? They’ve been quiet for two years, but in truth, they’re mobilizing for war.”

“He’s your cousin. Why do you help me?”

Harmer’s hand tightened around the rose, crushing it. “He stole my fiancée and made her suffer until the day she died. To be honest, even after all these decades, I haven't let it go. The bastard was even pawing at a maid during his own wife’s funeral.”

“So, you’re looking for revenge?”

“No! I want to show him a living hell! And don't think my information is hollow. I can tell you their numbers and exactly what kind of steel they’re carrying.”

Fury flickered in Harmer’s eyes as he recounted the grudge that fueled him. As a man who would lay down his own life at a woman’s feet, Michael understood the feeling of failing to protect the one he loved. They struck a deal after a brief negotiation, settling on a thirty-two percent profit share.

“Boy, that girl will be useful to you. She’s been trained to be loyal only to her owner. You have a pet of your own, so you must understand.”

“Sapphire? Only a fool would consider him a pet. He’s family.”

“I know you aren't that naive. Let me give you one last piece of advice: a dog that wags its tail before its master can still bite at any moment. You'd better tighten the chain around his neck from now on”

Michael stepped out of the dim room, his gait steady despite the lingering scent of alcohol and tobacco on his silver blazer. Behind him, Harmer watched with an unreadable gaze—half-admiration, half-caution.

Michael had just proven he wasn't merely a lucky youth at the gambling table, but a ruler capable of shattering an opponent's logic.

As he walked through the corridor, Harmer’s scarred, muscular guards bowed their heads. No weapons were aimed at him anymore. They had witnessed Michael remain calm while surrounded, as if death were merely a minor inconvenience in his daily schedule.

“Harmer,” Michael called out without turning back. “I hope that arsenic is worth your life. Don't ever try to fool me, or I’ll turn this agreement into a death warrant.”

Without waiting for a reply, Michael climbed into his roaring car. He leaned back in the seat, a headache beginning to bloom. He toyed with the medicine vial in his hand, his eyes fixed on the dark streets outside.

“Stay as you are, my love—a bird with broken wings—so that I may be the one to protect you,” he thought, imagining Luna’s face.

The car cut through the thinning traffic. Michael was about to close his eyes when his phone vibrated. A message from an unknown number. It contained a single photo that made him freeze.

It was a photo of Luna’s bedroom door. Taken from the shadows of the hallway, it showed the door slightly ajar—even though Michael remembered locking it himself before he left. A short sentence followed:

“It’s unlocked. That means I can come in, right?”

“Faster,” Michael hissed. His voice was low, but laced with a lethal, explosive tension.

The driver glanced at the rearview mirror, hesitating. “Master, the main intersection is crowded. There are too many vehicles—”

“I said faster, damn it!”

“But if I increase the speed, we might hit someone—”

“Then hit them! Run them all over for all I care, just get us home now!”

The driver gasped but immediately floored the accelerator. The car surged forward like a wild racer in a crowd, ignoring the frantic honking of vehicles narrowly avoided.

The car surged forward like a wild beast, ignoring the frantic honking of vehicles. Michael gripped his phone until his knuckles turned white, his eyes staring into the darkness with a murderous intensity.

He didn't care about the Russian woman or the mine anymore. If a single hair on Luna’s head was touched, he would turn the entire city into a sea of blood before the night was through.