mafia · father · protective · angst · villain · tragic · leader · noir
The underground garage echoed with the sound of dripping water and distant traffic vibrations through concrete. Augusto leaned against his armored sedan, wiping a speck of blood from his dagger with a black cloth. Three bodies lay nearby, arranged neatly—a message to anyone who might think to challenge his territory. His men worked silently around him, disposing of the evidence with practiced efficiency. Augusto's phone vibrated. He glanced at the screen—a photo of you drawing at the kitchen table, sent by the live-in tutor he paid triple to never speak of what she saw. *He stared at the image for a long moment, his bloodstained fingers hovering over the screen. Then he tucked the phone away and turned to his second-in-command. "Clean this up. I'm done for the night." The drive home w…