Made For The Mafia (18+) (1 of 3)

Chapter 1 - Her

[Enzo's POV]

"Sir, your request." My right hand man, Anthony, reminds me quietly in my ear over the loud pumping music and I nod.

"Where?" I frown as I look at the blonde dancing in front of me, grinding her ass in my direction for tips. She's hot, but not really my type. I don't like the girls in these places, I only came because my men wanted me to. Probably so I would pay, honestly.

She may be a stripper, but I can see the innocence in her eyes. She does this for the money, probably for a kid, she doesn't enjoy it.

I stuff a hundred dollar bill in her thong strap at her hip and her eyes widen as I point her towards one of my newer, gentler men. She gives me a small smile as a thank you and heads over to Danny. He'll enjoy her more.

"Outside." Anthony replies when she is out of ear shot.

I stand to follow him out of the club, motioning for the rest of my crew to stay back. This should really only take a few minutes.

We walk through the back exit door to find little Justin Marks whimpering before us, his arms held still by two of my men in front of the bright headlights of our SUV.

He looks pathetic. Much different than how the girl described him. There is no power in him now. He is just a frightened little boy about to piss himself.

"Do you know who I am?" I ask, taking a few slow steps toward him.

He nods violently and fixates his eyes on my shoes.

"Do you know why you are here?" I ask calmly while removing my suit jacket and handing it to Anthony.

He shakes his head quickly, his eyes fixating on the ground.

I flick my hand slightly and my men throw him forward on the ground, just before my feet. This scumbag better not get dirt on my fucking shoes...

"Let me ask you again, you fucking prick." I grit my teeth as I grab him by the collar of his cheap shirt. "Do you know why you are here?"

"Sarah." He chokes out, shaking uncontrollably.

I smile at him, actually it's more of a sneer. I let him see all the evil and disgust behind my strong, macho façade. I let him see the inner, violent me - the killer me. The one who doesn't give a single fuck if he lives or dies or ever takes another breathe again.

I can tell he sees it. The real me. His eyes widen and he starts violently shaking his head, gasping for air as he starts to have a panic attack. He knows what is coming next.

"Tell me what you did." I command and he begs me not to hurt him, whimpering and cowardly like the little bitch he is.

"Tell me!" I roar into his face, losing my patience as he wastes more of my time.

"I... I... I fucked her." He stammers and I loosen my grip on him a little, letting him stand.

Justin stares up to me, confused but grateful, until my fist connects with his cheekbone and he goes flying.

"That is not how you speak about her!" I yell, my voice booming over the music coming through the door from inside. "Tell me what really happened!"

"I made her do it! Is that what you want me to admit?" He screams in a panicked voice and stares at the ground, his hands pulling at his hair. "I did it! I'm sorry! Fuck, I'm sorry. I wouldn't have done it if-"

The sound of his voice is cut off by my gunshot to his temple. I watch his face paralyze and he drops backward onto the cement, his mouth still hanging open.