Mafia (DNF)

Seven

GEORGE

This was insane. I had no idea how to be a private assistant, let alone work for the mafia. Would he really send someone to kill me if I ran away? Was it worth a shot?

I decided it probably wasn't, when I saw a ruined black car pull up to the lobby. Dream (which was his code name, apparently) waved the driver over when he got out. My eyes widened as I realized the holes in the car were dents from bullets.

"Hey, Sam. What happened?" Dream questioned, referring to the wrecked car.

"Oh, nothing. The police got called while I was on a job, but I was leaving anyways. They had a machine gun, but it's a good thing we installed the bulletproof windows the other day."

"What job?" I asked incredulously.

The man (named Sam, apparently) raised his eyebrows when he saw me. "Oh, it's you."

I frowned. "Huh?"

"I was the one who kidnapped you yesterday," he replied nonchalantly, and turned back to Dream. "I'll get it fixed up tomorrow, but I'm done for tonight."

He headed over to the elevator, and I just then noticed the stain of blood on his jacket.

"That's the hit man," Dream pointed out. "In case you were wondering. Anyways, this is the building for most of my close partners and people who work under me. Our penthouse is floor 50."

"Our penthouse? Do I have to live with you?" I asked, surprised.

"I need you on call 24/7. So, yes. Plus, it's probably a million times nicer than your apartment."

Well, he wasn't wrong about that. I felt a little uncomfortable living in the same apartment as someone so dangerous, but I guess this was my life now.

"Oh yeah, how much am I getting paid?" I asked, as he showed me the parking garage.

"The our last secretary had a salary of $100,00, but if you do better, I'll consider something higher," he replied.

My jaw dropped. "$100,000 for a secretary? What kind of stuff am I supposed to do?"

He looked like he was thinking. His blonde hair fell over his eyes a bit, and he pulled his hand up to smooth it back.

"Normal things, like checking my emails and planning my calls and meetings. You'll have to come to some of them.... oh, can you shoot a gun?" He asked.

"Um, no? Why would I?" I didn't like where this was going.

"I guess that's what you're doing today. I'll send one of my friends here to help you, but I have to leave now." He checked his watch, and then took out his phone and called someone.

"Hey, Nick? Come over and bring Bad. He's gonna teach George to shoot a pistol."

A pause. "That's the guy we got yesterday, he's my PA now." Dream looked annoyed at whatever the caller was saying, and hung up.

"He's so dumb," he muttered. "Anyways, wait here. My bodyguard will come meet you."

He strolled off to a car waiting outside, probably to do something important.

I sat down on one of the chairs in the lobby. Learning to shoot a gun, huh. What has my life become.