(MY UPDATE SCHEDULE IS NOW FRIDAY AND TUESDAYS! AMETHYST IS NOW "KACELYNN". thank you!)

Arlan's Point of View

'Is everything okay at work?'

"Fuckin' bitch," I muttered with a shake of my head, recalling Aurora's whiney, mousy, annoying voice, as I drove to my headquarters.

Usually, the little vixen never uttered a word about my place of work. Interposing terror surrounding my career was evident in her. She refrained from mentioning it.

I could visualize now the goosebumps that paraded her milky skin every time I came home with my shirt inked in a black cherry colored blood splatter and face in purple colored bruises; the tenuous gulp contracting in her throat, blueberry eyes inundated with alertness, frightened little milky fingers gripping her bedsheets as she lowered herself, knuckles white. The imagery was comparative to a baby doe hiding from a bear.

Especially after I forced her to come in with me to work, her fear had escalated even further some. She never uttered a word even remotely having to do with the mafia. Little thing shook at times just looking at my tattoos for too long, so she didn't dare step into the territory of perusing through questions about my crimes.

So when did she get so emboldened?

With how lenient I had become with her, she should've kept her pouty little mouth shut and shown some gratitude. No longer was she chained up, and I had even agreed to let her go to that stupid dance with Nathaniel and my maid. I was reluctantly easing up on my punishments and 'turning a new leaf' so we could return to normal; I longed for us to return to before, where things had gradually become more comfortable. I wanted to have dinner with her and not feel like I have to intimidate her boldness out of her. I want to hold her at night and fuck her to exhaustion until we fall asleep. I craved a sort of gentle intimacy with her, to be frank.

Sure, I enjoyed torturing her and relishing in my hedonistic, sadistic ways. The euphoric headrush I got from choking her, slapping her, even drowning her temporarily, excited me, made my blood thrum in my veins like a power surge and rush to my dick. My complete dominance over her weakness gave purpose to the title mafia boss in the bedroom, I loved exercising it over my little girlfriend.

But with work becoming increasingly tedious and frustrating, working out this operation of fixing my debt, I was pulling my hair out here.

Well, not literally, I got it cut- and that's because I was literally pulling it out with how stressed I was becoming.

And I wanted some genuine affection and love, so I was easy up on the little Dove, bending some of her metal cages so to speak so she can a little air way to squeeze through. Only a little.

And yet she thought she could ask about the privacy of my work! When will she learn to shut the fuck up and let me just earn the money for us?! Aurora needed to learn to be more of a woman; quiet, subservient, obeying, and not ask questions. It didn't matter if she asked, she wouldn't get to know those details. Ever.

My thumb jammed on the sound sphere of my car to divert her vexatious inquiries with some radio music. I exhaled shakily.

A random, rather lackluster bubblegum pop song with synthesized instruments made me elicit a groan. I jammed it again, some trash rap playing. Lame. When did modern music become so atrocious? Another thumb jam on the sphere.

"In other news, Bel Air residents Alice Elizabeth Blake and Denver Montero Blake have filed a police report for stolen property. The couple reports their diamonds had been stolen around the night of ThanksGiving,"-

"Fuck," I hissed, teeth clenching, whole entire body clenching. The Blake's had reported it and was already out.

"The couple has a seven year old daughter and fears for her safety," The nasily female news reporter continues, "The couple doesn't wish to press charges, nor for the return of the diamonds. They only wish the criminal to come forward, for their peace of mind."

I hesitated, and then couldn't help the chortle that rumbled deeply from my chest in amusement. I was cackling. These fuckers were so nice... they didn't even want their materials back? Or to press charges?

They just....wanted to know who it was? For their 'peace of mind'?

When did people become such pussies? It was laughable!

With a shake of my head, I couldn't believe my luck. The Blake's were about as idiotic as mice with blindfolds, this whole thievery was a cake walk. Well, Blake's, you're not gonna know it's me, that's for sure. I jammed my thumb the sound sphere again, only to quickly turn it off. I was already rolling into the parking lot, hands smoothly twisting the wheel to secure my Lamborghini into my spot. No use in perusing through this mediocre music or irrelevant, baby news story.

I went through the security system and up the secretive staircase before pressing the elevator button. As a chimey little bell sound resounded from it, I got to straightening up my tie, peering down at it. It was Friday, we usually dressed sharp for the occasion, per my orders. I was in a well-tailored, velvet black suit, my newly trimmed hair gelled away from my face and eyes. A collared white shirt left my neck's tattoos to be exposed, adding some distinction to the look.

"Arlan," A voice purred, catching my attention.

I felt caught off guard as I peered to my right, pausing with my tie.

Rosen, our secretary, stood, her sultry curves mapped out in the fabric of tight clothing, teething her injection-filled, red lipstick covered bottom lip. Her Havelock colored blazer purposefully neglected its top three buttons so her breasts overflowed sloppily, her very tight black mini skirt barely covered her thighs. Dark, thick sweeping black eyelashes bat in a falsely-innocent gaze above her green eyes as she smirked. Green eyes like a snake, ready to hiss and attack.

Rosen and I had many encounters while I was dating Kacelynn. Even though all me and Kacelynn pretty much did was sex, I was still sex-starved at work, needing someone to satisfy my needs. When work got too infuriating and things weren't going my way, a quick text had me dragging her by the hair to a storage closet or empty conference room to pound the shit out of her. And it wasn't like she didn't oblige; Rosen had practically thrown herself at me like a steady prostitute the moment she started last year.

However, it had stopped once I met Aurora, and I hadn't called for her to see me since.

Here Rosen was, approaching me. The stepping of her six inch heels met the floor with irksome clacks as she sauntered to me, her curvy hips tipping side to side like a seesaw as she walked. My Adams Apple bobbed subtly as I was trapped in her heated eye contact. Then, her fingers smoothly grazed my lightly stubbled, diamond jaw.

"Hi, handsome. It's been some time, hasn't it?" Her breathy, baby-voice implores as she stands in front of me.

She was twenty six, older than Aurora, older than me. She was a real woman, her body filled out and had life to it. She was so full in every sense of her body, but her sensuality was so forced through tacky clothing that looked like a Halloween costume for a college slut. She was still the best cock sucker I'd ever met in my God damn life.

Then, her body goes behind me, her hands coming to smooth over my blazer covered shoulders. I shiver slightly, still holding my tie. Her body is perfumed heavily in something expensive, the smell is suffocating compared to Aurora's natural, pure cotton candy smell.

"Why don't I help you with that?" Rosen asks 'innocently', voice becoming heavy and husky.

I stand silently, not quite objecting but not engaging verbally or physically. We're in the middle of the hallway, but Rosen knows I don't give a fuck about having a public fuck. In fact, I loved it before; knowing everyone can hear me make a bitch scream and beg, knowing any moment someone might accidently walk in and see cum running down her leg. She'd be screaming from my cock but still look so embarrassed; I fucking loved it. Her slim, soft hands slide down my chest, achingly slow, intimately. Her touch feels good, it's been a while. I shiver again. It's been so long since I had someone come onto me, seduce me, be so present with me sexually. I felt desired again. Then, her long fingers go lower and wrap around my tie. Her fingers get to working, but instead of adjusting it, she's loosening it even more. The tie is starting to fall limp from my neck. But I don't want this.

I want Aurora's shy, fearful eyes that water and can't handle my glare and I want her timidness and red cheeks, like two Autumnal, ripe apples.

"Stop," I clutch Rosen's tan wrist, abruptly ending her insinuations. Her arm tenses in surprise at my grip, but she tries to cover it with a sexual whimper, trying to sound turned on. I'm not buying it. I throw her arm back

Her body weight lifts off mine and I pierce her with a menacing, enraged glare. Her mouth is ajar as she blinks several times at me, cowering back.

The elevator had long since opened and also closed, I had lost complete attention of it.

"Baby," She tries, coming forward again, coasting a hand over my arm but I swat her away. Her mouth falls open further with a look of hurt.

"Shut the fuck up!" I growl. "I have a girlfriend, don't touch me you filthy whore."

Rosen's eyes burned with jealousy momentarily before they resumed a brighter, flirtatious glance.

"Mmm sexy, that's never stopped you from pounding me before," Rosen countered, eyebrows raising as a smirk painted her crimson lips.

"It's different now," My voice was dark. "I have absolutely no interest in you."

"Baby, please, I've always been so loyal to you," Rosen whined, hand squeezing her breasts and tugging it outwards so her remarkably prodigious nipple came out.

She whined louder, twirling the nipple in her fingers. She was fucking pathetic, voice so whiney and not the good kind, the kind that grates your ears. Sure, she was pleasing to the eye. But she was overly theatrical and not naturally sexy. Way too much of a try-hard.

"I need your cock pounding me so bad. Look, I'm such a mess," She pouted, eyes glimmering. Her body approached me again. "I wanna choke on it so good, it's been so long. So please let me serve you," Her eyes sparkled with lust, biting her lip again.

My anger was boiling hotter than the magma of volcanos, the fury floodgates flying open. I saw red.

How fucking dare she!

In a rush of fury I snatched her neck with such tightness that her face grew purple in seconds. She gasped, desperately needing air, she clawed at me.

"AR,"-

"Shut the fuck up, filthy fucking slut!" I bemoaned loudly, shaking her neck in my grip, her hair flying. My grip on her tightened excruciatingly, her lips were blue. She was coughing crazily, gasping like a fish out of water. "You dare fucking touch me when I just told you, I'm taken! I'll kill you!"

Her eyes widened like some freaked out cartoon character as tears pushed through them.

"Pl-p-pl," She couldn't even get out her pleads as her airway closed tighter, her black pupils enlarging.

I dragged her as I stomped down the hallways, approaching the stairway. Then, I flung her easily down the steps, exhaling heavily. I walked away as she screeched, body flying down.

Needy, annoying women!

Her body hit each step as I casually breezed over back to the elevator, pressing the button. All was silent, and I presumed she'd hit the floor, dead. The little bell from the elevator button chimed again and satisfied, I walked in as the doors clunkily opened for me.

I tried to ignore that Rosen's filthy hand prints had tainted my suit and quickly adjusted my tie. Maybe in the past I'd take a quick fuck, but now my loyalty resided in Aurora. She was suited to perfection for all my needs, not just the physical ones, but the emotional ones. Her aura grounded me, it kept me level-headed when I needed to come down and unwind. Her laugh, sweet little dimples, her innocent charisma, infectious smell and effortless beauty, I craved it so much that no mere whore could distract me from that. And even moreso, it angered me to no end that someone would try to delegitimize my relationship with her and try to seduce me to cheat. It simply wasn't going to happen, and if someone tried again - well, it's obvious how they'd end up.

One death down and it was only nine in the morning. Then, in a timely and professional manner, I sauntered into my headquarters. Ghostly wisps of cigar smoke and the smell of heavy scotch clouded the red-lit room. My men are dressed sleek and debonair, exuding stealth and confidence. When the door shut, they noticed my appearance and an autocratic aura punched the air, domineering authority sending my men turning obediently in unison to greet me. I strode in.

"Gentlemen," I nodded curtly, voice booming and dark.

"Hi boss," Their respect is impeccable as they all greet me in a chorus.

All but Nate, who glares at me begrudgingly through his chestnut bangs. I meet his glare and challenge him through much more smoldering eyes. He hadn't attended a meeting in person in weeks; Rather, had been doing research from the estate and avoiding us. But in order for me to agree to let him go to his stupid little college event with Aurora tonight, I forced him to come to a meeting today. He looked foolish in his suit that was too big on him; If only he put down the books and hit the gym with me, he'd have the body of a man. And clearly, he didn't put much effort into his look- his tie loose and untied around his neck. His body slumped against his seat like a kid forced to go out to dinner with his parents, face full of resentment towards me. Whatever, so be it. He still had to be here.

I offered him a cordial grin, tilting my head slightly.

Then, I sauntered to my opulent, velvet seat at the head of the table and slowly sunk into it. My men straightened their posture and glanced at me attentively.

"As always, under the oath of Obsidian Wrath Mafia, established 1983, in Shilstreet, California, every and any syllable uttered in this room, recognized and heard in the name of God,"-

"Like you believe in God," Nate mumbled with a humorless laugh into his chest, eyes down.

I paused, bewildered. No one dared interrupting me, let alone while I read our beginning oath. It was a sacred scripture and ritual of the mafia to begin our meetings with it. My head tilted, eyes zeroed in on Nate directly across from me on the far end of the table as he played with his loose tie, his eyes still downcast.

What had gotten into him, thinking he could humiliate my authority in front of everyone?

"What was that, Nathaniel?" I implored coolly as his head jerked up to see me. Nate's puppy eyes glanced coyly at me. Weak puppy dog against a lion. I rolled my jaw and slightly clenched my teeth. Thought so.

I was already up to fucking here with people testing me today, I had zero patience left.

First, Aurora asking if all was well with work this morning.

Then the Blake's with their report on the radio (attention-thirsty bastards).

And then Rosen flashing her slutty nipples at me like a cheap whore.

Now, Nate being a smart ass.

Nate was losing confidence, eyes falling from mine, not answering. Silent, like a fucking loser. Everyone who tried to challenge me ultimately knew it was an unfair battle. Once they lost due to my power, strength and intimidation, they submitted to me.

I cleared my throat and continued, a slight edge of bitterness in my tone.

"As always, under the oath of Obsidian Wrath Mafia established 1983, in Shilstreet, California, every and any syllable uttered in this room, recognized and heard in the name of God is confidential. If broken, a man understands his justifiable death."

"Yes, boss," My men respond in a monotone chorus, only one person mutters a 'yes boss', and Nate's voice is easily distinguishable among everyone else's. I ignore it and let slide.

"So," I roll my shoulders and bring my leathered brief case to the table. Clicking it open, I begin to take out files, and securely snap it shut. Spreading the files in front of me, I sigh.

"We're in debt following our legion's loss of an important proposition with the central region of South America to another mafia," I peer up to remain eye contact with each of my men as I speak. "This obviously lead us to attempt to find said mafia who sabotaged us; I've since chosen that we desist. It is wasting too much time, and too much money. Our next best plan is to simply find another mafia to negotiate with. My interest is Russian mafia Chernyye Rystari, known in English as the Black Knights Mafia," I turn one paper over to show my men.

"Boss, why Russia?" Devyn, who wears a velvet navy suit, inquires, swirling his scotch, his brow furrowed. "The language barrier places Obsidian at a disadvantage, wouldn't they favor a mafia in Eastern Europe or North Asia?"

It's true, we had never negotiated with the country before, let alone any; Obsidian Wrath consistently remained national, besides rare circumstances and brief occasions. But it was important we started somewhere.

"Multiple reasons. Their location is a clever advancement for us; For one, we are expanding ourselves by becoming transglobally known. Once we establish ourselves outside of America, it will bring attention to other European mafias, opening other doors of alliances for us with our clever placement. Secondly, Chernyye Rystari is especially vulnerable because they're enervated by a lack of alliances due to a history of failed localized relations. Bluntly, my men, the capital they reside in is rich in resources that would have us tripling in millions, and they've surprisingly lacked offers or negotiations from other mafias. We have a long-standing history of success and wealth, who wouldn't be intrigued to work with us?" I smirk, feeling oh-so self assured. "And language barrier? We can easily work around that by preparing ourselves with research and traveling with a bilingual spy.

The Chernyye Rystari are easily monopolizable. We convince them that taking 22% of their shares is somehow beneficial to them, and they'll put putty in our hands. It's unethical utilitarianism, darlings," I flashed a grin with raised brows, earning laughter from them, I finish.

"Their leader is Maksim Kiselyov, we'll need something to negotiate. He likes weaponry, as any leader of a mafia would."

"I'll take the lead on gathering AK-74M machinery. They're predominant in the Russian Armed Forces, their favorite weapon of choice. We'll need a starting point to intrigue them," Dominic offered, already writing it down.

"Excellent," I clapped my hands together.

"And, what if they try to negotiate less than 22%?" Griffin, a subordinant towards my left, questions. He rubs at his ginger stubble. "A first time negotiation can go to a mafia's head; They might feel so inclined to ask for more."

I snickered, taking a puff of my own cigar and speaking through large white clouds of smoke.