Hitman vs Mafia ~Mafia!Jimin X Hitman!Reader~

Chapter 1 - The Contract

It isn't too hard to fuck up in my profession. It's easy to miss the target, easy to hesitate, easy to get lost, and easy to leave the smallest bit of evidence that would ruin you.

Unfortunately for me, I fucked up. Badly.

~~~~~

This begins with a routine murder from a routine customer. Some poor bastard who enjoyed gambling a little too much had borrowed money from the most famous mafia boss. That boss had a legal business, naturally, as a loan shark. He kept his interest as high as was legally possible, but it's really not hard to go a bit beyond it. It's also not hard to avoid the law considering all the technicalities they need. I mean, probable cause? Warrants? Circumstantial evidence? Anyone can get away with murder if they just keep their mouth shut.

Anyway, back to it.

I walk up to the front desk with a sway of my hips and a pretty smile on my face. I lean over the counter, sticking my ass out. I could feel the burning of eyes on me. I'd done my best to look enticing, putting a wig on and some makeup to really sell the image. Posing as a prostitute was the easiest way to get my contracts from this client. The men were always dirty and therefore easy to trick everyone around them. I lick my bottom lip sensually as the man at the front desk rakes his eyes up my body.

"How can I help you, sweets?"

I smile, the red lipstick stretching across my lips. "Sweet of you, sugar. I need a room key for a certain pleasure of mine. A Mr. Derrant?"

He pulls up the room and scans me a key without further questions. He hands it over, but he makes sure to glide his hand over mine. "Perhaps I'll request your services soon."

I don't reply, I simply walk away with a small wave of my fingers. I take the elevator upstairs, all the while tapping my heeled foot. There was some music playing in the background coming from the casino part of the building. Once I get to the floor, and no one's there, I walk out of the elevator without bothering how I looked. I hated killing people in heels, but a hitman's gotta do what a hitman's gotta do. I knock on the door before entering the room. I nearly gag at the smell, but I keep a straight face. I smile when he comes into view, though disgust fills my entire body. He was only wearing a towel around his waist.

"I've been ordered?" I purr, sliding a hand to hike the skimpy shorts up my curved thigh.

He smiles. "Well, doll, I don't remember doing so, but I surely won't send you away."

"Oh, ordered to kill."

I pull the shorts up more and sling the knife out with one fluid motion. It imbedded itself into his throat, handle deep. I watch the surprised look on his face as blood spurts from the wound. Even the knife couldn't stop the force of the blood spurting from the vein. I watched with satisfaction as he fell to the ground. I walked over and proceed to pull the knife out as he twitches with his last bit of life. I get out of the room after that, just leaving the dead body. Evidence for cops wouldn't get them much. A dead body with a knife wound in it, and that's it. Maybe a strand from the shitty wig I bought at the corner store. I walk out of the room with soft steps. Leaving the hotel was easy after that. Prostitutes wander the area like it's their business to do so, so I simply winked at some people as I left.

God, I fucking hate heels.

~~~~~

Washing my actual hair during a long shower is my favorite thing. Feeling the warm water cascade down my bruised and scarred body was the only relaxing thing I was allowed. After the shower, I dried off my body and got dressed in some regular jeans and a t-shirt. I leave my apartment and head to the office for the client. The walk was short and easy, and no one bothered me on the way. I enter the building, no one giving me a second glance. Everyone knew exactly why I was there.

"Ah, Mr./Ms. (L/N)."

I turn around and watch the Boss come up to me. He's wearing his regular pinstriped suit and walking with the cane he always walks with. It has a knife embedded in the handle, which I only figured out because I once used it to beat the crap out of him once before we had officially met. The handle had slipped off when I swung it too hard.

"Boss."

He shakes my hand. "Job well done, I assume."

I simply nod before taking my hand back. He leads me up to his office. I assume it's for another hit. He loved giving me back to back jobs and reserving me as his personal hitman, but I still took side jobs that were small and paid a bit more. It had made me a very rich person.

"You must be wondering just who your next target is."

I sit down on the couch in his lavish office. "For your information, I'm more curious what's with the formalities. You don't usually take me to your office or let me sit down. You usually just hand me a folder and call it a day."

He makes an annoyed humming sound. "A certain group of people have been particular pests to me. Unfortunately for you, they only operate with their faces covered, so I don't know their identities. I don't even know their names."

I roll my eyes. Fan-fucking-tastic.

"They've been fucking with my business for almost a year now and have only taken more money from me. I don't care how you do it, I don't care when." He slams the folder onto the table in front of me. "Just end them. You get more money the faster you do it."

I take the folder and open it. I scan the single page of information, but I stop after a moment because of the name I see. "My next hit is BTS?"