My Mafia Daddy | REWRITTEN | DDLG 18+

Twenty-Five

"Yes, yes, sir," He whispers, choking up as he looks up to Chichi, who's tapping rigorously on her phone. Looking the man up.

Seconds tick by and before I know it, Gustaf's holding Chichis' phone up to my face. Kane's face sits smugly with a smile on the screen, dressed in a white shirt and a gold chain.

He looks so ridiculous that I almost want to puke. I reach up and scroll through his information; 22, dead parents, alive little sister, no official address or job. Disappointing.

My eyes slide back over to him, slitting at the sight of him crying.

"Why were you after her?" Gustaf asks, making Kane snap his neck to the left so he can look at the bear of a man. Despite the effort to pay attention, he stays silent, fear flashing in his eyes.

Not fear of us though, something else, something that scares him much more.

Inching closer, I hold my bulky gun to the bottom of his chin as I snarl.

"Answer. Now," I order, pushing it against his skin harshly, leaving a red ring behind. "Or I'll shoot."

He bites his lip, really sticking to his silent plan. I take the gun and trace his mouth with it, smiling gently before I shove it in his mouth.

At first, he fights it but gives up when the cracking noise of one of his teeth rings out in the alleyway. His mouth breaks open with a cry and I shove it down his throat, holding it there as his face slowly works its way through the rainbow and his eyes are bulging.

I yank it out, laughing at how he leans over to puke.

"I can't! I can't tell you!" He wails, spitting and coughing up more before begging me to stop.

"I'm a little fucking trigger-happy today," I say, smiling to myself as I aim my gun at the wall and shoot a warning shot. "Look at that little bullet ricochet, hopefully it won't come this way."

Kane flinches backward, flinging himself back against the wall and knocking his head sideways off the brick in shock. He hides his face as his pants darken around the crotch and I laugh humorlessly.

"You piss yourself?" I taunt, scoffing unbelievably. "For black pants, they don't do much good."

I smack the butt of the gun into his forehead, making sure to smash the forming bruise from the bricks. "Fucking answer me," I growl, digging my heel into his dick and grinding it against the concrete ground.

"Yes, sir!" He sobs, flailing and wiggling underneath my foot as he cries out. "I pissed myself!"

Disgust rolls over my face, such a pathetic little man. He didn't even bother fighting and now, he's going to die for it.

He would've died either way.

Scoffing, I move away from him before pausing to look back. His face is twisted into relief, thankful that my heel isn't trying to break the concrete with his shtick, and his hands are reaching down to hold them tenderly. Quickly, I return and deliver a harsh kick to his gut.

Immediately, he grunts and curls into a ball, hoping to deflect any more hits.

Turning to Gustaf, I walk towards him and dust my hands off on my pants. "Take him to building D and hold him, I'll come for him tomorrow night."

"Of course, sir," he nods slightly and begins to start the process of cleaning up. I pause, taking a moment behind Chichi to calm myself down.

Constance, my perfect angel, has been through so much tonight and she needs me to calm down. I can't help her if I'm not steady.