He pulled the tie tighter around his neck. Any tighter and he would have been committing suicide. Behind him, on the bed, she yawned as she woke.

“You’re up already?”

“And for a mafia boss you wake up rather late.”

“I told you before. I’m the don outside the bedroom.”

“So the don never sleeps.”

“Nope. She’s great, isn’t she? But when I sleep...”

“Right, you sleep with me. I should be thankful to know two beautiful women then.”

“You should be. And get to work, I’ll catch up soon.”

“Even if you’re late, who's gonna scold you? You’re the fucking boss.”

“My father, probably. Even as a consigliere, he still goes on about waking up early.”

She got out of bed and approached him. As she walked up behind him, he could see her entire self contained within the mirror. She smirked, as if she knew what she was doing. From behind, she hugged him.

“What are you doing?” He raised his arms in response.

“Oh, you know. Messing with you.”

With a pull, she dragged him back. He gave no resistance. Pushing him down onto the bed again, she flashed a toothy smile.

“You just crumpled my suit. And it's my first day too.”

“What better first impression can you give? I’ll walk in while holding hands. That’s enough recognition for the group.”

“If you say so. Anyway, I took a look at your filings. Sloppy, mislabelled, everything a child would do.”

“That’s Tim’s fault. I had him fired for a reason.”

“By fired you mean with severance pay or with a gun to a head.”

“Whichever helps you sleep at night.”

“I’ve told you a million times. I don’t care if you’re a murderer. Just don’t get caught.”

“Hey, even if we do get caught, the police won’t do anything.”

He sat back up and shrugged. With a sigh, she left the bed and headed into the bathroom. After her morning rituals were finished, she stepped out, still completely naked.

“Why didn’t you change inside?” He hid his face with his hands.

“We’ve done it on the countertop before. You shouldn’t be embarrassed.”

“Just, get changed and we can go. I’ll wait outside.”

“Urg, fine.” She opened up her wardrobe and took out a pair of matching black undergarments as he left.

He leaned against the bedroom door. Beyond that, the sounds of clothes rustling tickled his ears. Eventually, the door opened.

“You look good.”

“Thank you. You too.”

They made their way down from her home to the ground floor. On the side of the road, a nondescript, plain back car waited. Its tinted windows showed off their reflections.

“Get in,” she said as the doors opened for her. Ashley shoved him in.

The inside of the car was rather tight. But it made sense. The walls and glass of the vehicle were thick, bullet proof no doubt. He moved closer towards the other side, and made space for the lady. Once they were both in, the door slammed shut and the driver stepped on the accelerator. From the outside, seeing through the windows was difficult if the voyeur did not have the correct circumstances.

“How about you don’t be so rough?”

“Yeah boss. If you hurt his beautiful face...”

“And why the hell are you here Roberto?”

“Update on the Quoni family.”

“Well? Out with it.” She slammed the door shut.

“They’re on the move.”

“Where?”

Ashley leaned forwards to look at a tablet the consigliere held. Her eyebrows furrowed as her eyes darted across the screen. Her hand wandered, until it found itself atop of his head. She pulled him closer to her from his hair. Throwing his head down towards her lap, she hit him right on the back of his head.

“Shit!” she cursed.

“Ouch. I don’t understand, why did you have to hit me.”

“Sorry. I know I have anger issues and I need to work on those.”

“Yeah, whatever. What’s going on?”

“The Quoni family wants to eliminate us from the map entirely. A war’s gonna break out.”

“So just destroy them before they destroy you. Easy.”

“But how? It's not like your chess games. You can’t see what they have at hand.”

“Well what do we know about their leader?”

“Hmm. He’s the type to do the important work himself. And he tends to bring along his successor to watch and learn.”

“Then I have an idea. Kill them both.”

“How?”

He sat up straight and looked her in the eye. What he was about to say, she would have numerous objections. And he knew that.

“We've been dating for a long time now. They definitely know that. No doubt, my name has come up in their conversations before, probably as a bargaining chip or something. So how about this? Instead of stashing me in a safehouse somewhere, I walk out here, without you. Instead, I have a wire on me that gives you my location and lets you hear everything.”

“What are you getting at?”

“They take me hostage. The leader and the successor will be there. You bring all your guns and kill them there.”

“You’re insane.”

“People are attracted to others with similar sanity levels. A sane person would never date you, much less fall in love.”

“I suppose that is true. Are you sure you want to do this, though?”

“Of course. You need to have some faith in me.”

She sighed and rubbed her temples. Was it really that insane of a plan? She seemed like she was deep in thought. The consigliere whipped out a box of cigarettes and offered one to the boss’ boyfriend.

“I don’t smoke.”

“Really? She doesn’t roll over and light one up after sex?”

“You talk as though you know her.”

“That’s what I do after unloading.”

“Will you please shut the fuck up?”

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“Hey, this isn’t your car.” He lit up his cigarette in defiance. “Besides, we both know not to disturb her when she’s thinking.”

“It's bad for your health, you know. Lung cancer.”

“You do know what business we’re in, right?”

“Murder’s your dayjob, I know. But still, mafia or not, you should take care of your health.”

“I can see why she fell in love with-” The car skidded to a stop at a red light. “Can’t you drive any better?”

“Not my fault, boss. Some bastard caused a jam in front of us.” The driver slapped the steering wheel.

“But it's not even rush hour.”

“It's not. We woke up at 10 and only came down half an hour later. Rush hour should be long over.”

“Is there an accident up ahead?” asked Roberto.

“Can’t tell from here boss.”

“Weird. Something’s wrong.”

“I feel the same. There’s something off here.”

“Stop it, both of you. We’re surrounded by unknowns, and this jam was probably caused by them. So here’s the plan. They know who we are, or at least know what we’re wearing.” Ashley finally snapped out of her deep thoughts.

“So Plan G then, boss?” Roberto put out his cigarette. “I’ll call for the backup.”

“Yeah. The two of us are gonna change and leave this car.”

She reached below her seat. With a click, she pulled out several long bars and folded black cloth. What were they? Judging from the fabrics, they looked like a sort of curtain.

“If you peek I will chop off your limbs one by one,” she said without flinching.

“Make sure to skin their limbs first,” he contributed.

“Good idea.”

Ashley placed the bars in front and behind of her, separating the car into 3 parts. With the two remaining shorter ones, she stuck them to the windows, and attached the curtains to all of them. Pulling the cloth together, she created an area of obfuscation.

“There should be a box under your seat. Contains spare clothes I got for you. Change.” She searched beneath her, and pulled out a neat black box. Popping the lid off, she pulled out a set of folded clothes. “Come one. We might be in danger.”

He nodded, and reached beneath. His hands found a similar sized box and pulled it out from under. As he turned his attention back, he couldn’t quite help but blush at the girlfriend.

“Stop staring and start changing.”

“I know. But why did you prepare mine?” He turned around and changed. Much of his effort went to trying to keep himself calm and composed in the situation.

“You underestimate my love for you.” He had no answer.

Still, there was an uneasy feeling deep in his stomach. The sort of gut instinct that one would feel moments before making a mistake, and yet too powerless to prevent it. He wasn’t unfamiliar with that, an accidental spilt secret here and there, the likes.

He turned around. As it turned out, she was ready long ago. She pulled a pair of black gloves over her hands, and shoved them inside her pants pockets. She wore a dark blazer jacket over a buttoned white blouse.

“Looking good as always,” she commented.

“You have good fashion sense.”

“Course I do. Suits get boring after a while. Anyway, let's go.”

With an affirming nod, she opened the car door and stepped outside. There was no progress in traffic, and they were trapped in that same position, barely moving for close to an hour. There was an occasional 5 seconds or so of movement, but even that was stopped by an invisible wall of cars. Even Roberto’s patience was running out. The driver had long since resigned himself to this purgatory.

Several people were outside of their cars, milling about. Some of them talked, whilst others tried their best to find out more about the situation. But the two ignored all of them. Moving past cars of red, yellow, blue, white, and every other colour one could think of, they made their way to the back of the queue.

“Watch out. Our enemies are definitely here. Move cautiously,” she warned. Grabbing his arm, she pulled him forwards.

“You’re packing, right?”

“Good job on picking up on the language. Of course I am. But if they outnumber us, we have no chance of winning at all.”

“But what about the others?”

“It would be better to disperse. They’re probably waiting for a moment of chaos.”

“Then we better run. Wait!” he whispered loudly. As an act of resistance, he pulled her back.

“What? Did you trip?”

“No. We’re being followed. There’s a guy, 8 o’clock. Been keeping up with us ever since we left.”

“Shit. So it is true.”

“But a gunfight won’t happen. Not here. There’s too many people. The moment we get into the new car, prepare for a fight. Are there weapons inside?”

“Yeah, rifles and pistols. Nothing heavy.”

“Then I’ll just shoot the driver chasing us.”

“You? Killing someone?”

“Why? Can’t imagine that?”

“No, just seemed unlikely. Okay, I’ll go along. It’s that one there, see? Black 4 seater.” She motioned with her head.

“Got it. Let’s go.”

They raced towards the car, and the pursuer followed. His hand reached into a pocket, it stayed in. The moment they were within reach of the car, the doors flew open and they jumped inside.

“Step on it!” she commanded.

“Stop them!” the man shouted as he pointed.

“Just a random goon. Do a 180 and go to HQ.”

The driver obliged. Turning the car around, he weaved between cars and buses. A nearby red car followed suit.

“We’ve got a chaser.” She clicked her tongue and reached for a weapon. Pulling out a rifle, she took aim.

“Wait, pretend to push me out. Do you have a wire in the car?”

“A literal one or a tracker?”

“A tracker!”

“Catch, boyo!” The driver tossed a small device behind and it landed nicely into his laps.

“Great! Just push me out of the car. I’ll take care of the rest.” He shoved the tracker into a pocket.

“What? Fuck off with that!”

“We can eliminate them. Get rid of them entirely.”

“You! You better not be a self sacrificing hero.”

“I’m more than willing to murder someone. I’m not a hero.”

“What do we do, boss?” the driver shouted.

“Slow the car down! I’m kicking him out. I’m sorry.”

The driver braked. She reached behind him and opened the door. With her heels, she kicked him right in the stomach and he fell out of the car, onto the hard rough asphalt. Scratches formed all over his body. To anyone else, it probably looked like he fell out.

“What the fuck?” he screamed. The chaser approached. Good.

Later that night, he was bound to a chair in the middle of an abandoned warehouse. Dusty, with the waves crashing onto the nearby beach. The salty sea air filled his nose. Miraculously, he had managed to emerge mostly unharmed.

“Heh. If she doesn’t show, I really pity you, boy.” The man was well dressed, with a rose stuck inside his breast pocket.

“But she said she loved me.”

“You made a horrible mistake dating her, ya know. Horrible.”

“But she will show. I know that.”

Everything they said, where they were, it was all picked up by the tracker. The man held a gun to his head. With his thumb, he cocked it. The revolver turned.

“Y-you must be joking.”

“But I’m not. There’s 10 minutes left, boy. And your value as a hostage goes down. What’s a damn civvy doing with her anyway?”

“I didn’t know.”

“Heh. She likes civvies, eh? Good to know.”

“Quoni!” A woman’s voice echoed throughout the warehouse.

“Ashley, Ashley, Ashley. What a pleasure it is to see you here. Accepting the deal?”

“Of course I am. Pull out of the city, right?”

“Mhm.” He nodded. “This boy’s worth that much to you.”

She tapped her fingers on her thighs. With an internal smirk, he thrashed around in the chair until he ended up on the ground.

“Oi! What’s happening here?”

“Hang on. I need to make sure you aren’t bullshitting me. I need to check if he’s hurt.”

“Feel free.” He waved to the boy tied up.

Ashley strutted over and squatted down. A single raise of her eyebrows. That was all that was needed. He knew what was coming, and braced himself. She dropped down onto the ground, and glass broke. Guns went off, as bullets flew into the warehouse. Gunpowder and blood mixed with the salt to create a weird cocktail of smells.

“How did it all go?” he asked with his eyes closed.

“Overwhelming success. Hot damn.” She held him close and pulled him up.

When his eyes opened, a scene of carnage unfolded in front of him. Bodies lay strewn around, like scraps of food thrown into the trash. Blood poured out from each of them, filled with holes like cheese.

“You bastard.” The leader of the Quoni family survived, probably not for long though. His voice was weak.

“Want to do the honours?” Ashley asked.

“Oh, hell yeah.”

She handed him a simple pistol. Nothing too complicated about it. He just had to pull the trigger. And that he did.

With a gun pressed against the man’s head, he couldn’t quite help but laugh. He killed someone. And yet he felt nothing. No world crushing guilt, no remorse. A hole through the brain was all that was left.

“And that’s the Quoni family gone. The successor’s dead, and the leader’s dead. We win. How was your first kill?”

“Easy. Surprisingly therapeutic.”

“You’re much more fucked up than me.”

He shrugged. With his clothes soaked with the blood of others, he longed for home. And for a shower. But Ashley’s phone rang.

“It's your sister. Want to pick up?” she asked.

“Of course. Put it on speaker.”

“Hello?” the voice called out.

“Hey. It's me. What do you need? My phone was dead, sorry.” he asked with a pleasant voice.

“I just want you to know that I will always love you. This isn’t your fault.” She ignored his words.

“Wait, what?”

“At home, you’ll find my explanation. This is my final goodbye.” She ignored his words.

“What?”

“Goodbye. I love you, forever.” She ignored his words.

A chair fell over. Her grunts transmitted through the phone, and her struggles. He stayed stunned. He knew what he was hearing. But did he? Did he? Did he? Was it his fault? It was his fault. The world went dark.