Property of the Mafia

[01] Engaged

This couldn't be happening.

This had to be some sort of sick, twisted joke.

This was not normal! My life was not a movie, for crying out loud!

"Straighten your back, Linette. You've got to make a strong impression. He's going to be coming back any minute now, and that's your only chance!"

My mother continued to powder her cheeks, padding so furiously that small smog-like clouds wafted towards me. I sat next to her, wide-eyed and in complete shock.

I was meeting the next-generation boss and head of the city's mafia.

I know. Absolutely unbelievable. But the dozens of pinchmarks on my arms should prove something. The fact there even was an underground following was news to me.

I had originally made plans on attending university this year after travelling abroad, but clearly that was out of the picture.

Remind me to never trust my mother again.

Apparently my parents had been active members of the notorious black market and whole 'underworld' jazz for quite some time without my knowing. Did I mention my dad was the Head's right-hand man? Yeah. He forgot to 'mention' that to me as well. You think your parents would tell you these things after living with them for the past nineteen years.

So why was I here? I had no idea, but considering how much makeup and effort had gone to making me look--'robust' as my mother called it--for the occasion was not a good sign.

"Sorry, did I keep you waiting?"

The room was suddenly filled with the strong scent of smoke. I tried to resist the urge to run away.

The first man that had just entered the room was a broad, grand looking man in probably his mid-to-late forties or so, and was wearing a classic white-suit with a huge pipe perched at the edge of his lip. The only thing that was menacing about him was the enormous scar that stretched from one eyebrow to the lower side of his jaw across his nose. His visage spoke for itself, practically screaming "YOU DON'T WANT TO MESS WITH ME" from a mile away. That was comforting.

Two larger, and much rougher-looking men followed in after the man, wearing black from head to toe with their collars popped and hair gelled back. It was hard to decide who was scarier: the 'boss', the huge bodyguards, or my mom.

"Linette." My mother nudged me painfully in the ribs. I had been too preoccupied to notice the man was staring intently at me with his hand out.

"Sorry hon, do I scare yah? Don' worry, I wont hurt ma parter's girl." He smiled, revealing a couple of golden teeth along his otherwise white set of teeth. Lovely. Just lovely.

"Oh, please excuse me." I smiled innocently, trying to be on my best performance as my mother's eyes practically popped out of her eyed as she silently urged me to make a good impression. "I'm Linette Cyan, as you must know. It's a pleasure to meet you, sir." I beamed angelically, batting my eyelashes as my mother had insisted upon. She gave me a brief thumbs up from behind the man.

Good job! I encouraged myself.

... But wasn't doing a good job a bad thing?

Stretching his arms out to his sides, the man sat down on the couch opposite my mother and I and lit another cigar. He promptly placed it to his mouth, with the other cigar still lit and absolutely reeking. He eyed me up and down, looking pleased at the moment as he suddenly ran his tongue across his lower lip. The urge to run just grew about 10000x stronger.

"She's lovely." He spoke almost matter-of-factly as another grin spread across his face, only highlighting the shape of the scar down his face. My mom looked pretty calm, but the sofa seat shaking beneath me told otherwise. The two large bodyguards leaned down as Van whispered something to them. He winked at me as our eyes met.