Mafias Badass Girl

In a dark and menacing room, a man was suspended upside down, his agonized screams reverberating as two merciless men relentlessly beat him with hot rods. Two burly figures in black shirts and trousers, each holding a rifle, stood guard at the door.

A tall man, clad in a black tuxedo, strode into the room, his face etched with sullenness and eyes ablaze with fury. He was Andrew Anderson, a Mafia Boss known for his rudeness, arrogance, aggression, and ruthless dominance. The world quaked under his authority; none dared to defy him, and all lived in dread of his power.

Following him, another figure in a black suit entered, Mike, Andrew's right-hand man. Andrew trusted no one but Mike, a brotherly bond forged through loyalty. Mike's unwavering priority was Andrew, and he would go to great lengths to protect his boss.

Upon Andrew's arrival, the men beating the suspended man halted their actions, bowing their heads in obedience.

Andrew opened the buttons and took off his coat, striding toward the tied-up men with a deadly glare in his eyes. He handed his coat to one of the men who had been beating the restrained man, and stood in front of him, rolling up the sleeves of his black shirt. His fists clenched, he unleashed punches upon the tied man, venting his anger with each strike, causing the man to scream in pain.

"Tell me, who were you leaking our confidential information to?" He demanded in a stern tone. "You deceived me, and you know I despise traitors." 

He grabbed a pistol from the table and pointed it menacingly at the injured man, his eyes filled with fury. "Do you wish to confess, or do you prefer death?" The man's eyes dilated in sheer terror.

"I... I was passing information with Mr. Richard,"he stammered, disclosing everything.

Andrew frowned upon hearing the name and shot the man in the forehead without hesitation. 

"This is the fate of those who betray me. They either face immediate death or a living hell of endless suffering." He growled before storming out of the room.

He entered a luxurious guest room where a young woman was already waiting for him, in a revealing dress and high heels, ready to serve the mafia boss. He comfortably took a seat on the sofa, giving the girl a cold look.  She sensually approached him, knelt in front of him, and unbuckled his belt.

He yanked her hair and barked, "Hurry up and do your job, then leave. I don't have the whole day to endure your presence."

The girl trembled in fear and hurriedly undid his jeans before pulling it down. First, she sucked him and then rode over him. He used sex as a means to vent his frustration and stress.

Afterward, he left the room, buttoning up his jeans. He proceeded to his lavish bedroom, dark and mysterious like his personality. 

Inside, his most trusted maid, Marie, was tidying up the room. She was the only person granted access to his room, and he respected her.

"Prepare my clothes. I have a meeting to attend," he ordered, and she responded with a nod before proceeding to his walk-in closet. 

He headed for a quick shower.

After shedding his clothes, he stepped into a quick shower, allowing the water to cascade down his well-toned, muscular body adorned with a six-pack. His mind was consumed by thoughts of the man he had killed earlier, struggling to comprehend the betrayal by one of his best men who had been leaking their secrets to their rivals.

He walked out of the bathroom, a white towel wrapped around his waist. His fresh black tuxedo lay on the bed. With a swift motion, he discarded the towel, letting it land on the sofa before dressing in his suit. His attire, like his life, was devoid of color, a reflection of the darkness that surrounded him.

After putting on his watch, he stood before a large mirror, running a comb through his jet-black hair.