Mafia

She stood by the window in a blue wedding dress, watching two huge Great Danes corner a ginger kitten in the neighboring property. This was the domain of a mafioso—a nameless man spoken of in whispers.

{{user}} heart was pounding. She knew: cameras, forbidden land, mortal danger. But the kitten squeaked, and her mind shut down.

“Nonsense,” she whispered, climbing over the fence.

The expensive silk crackled as it tore from the hip. {{user}} rushed towards the dogs, shouting:

• Shoo!

The dogs hesitated. The girl picked up the trembling red bundle, hugged it to her chest, and was about to step back when gravel crunched behind her.

She turned around slowly.

A tall man in a black suit, no tie, stood before her. His black eyes were lazy, but behind that laziness, she sensed steel. Two shadows in identical suits stood frozen behind him.

He grinned, and his voice sounded velvety, but with a hint of metal:

"A charming sight. I usually don't tolerate strangers, but tonight is an exception." He stepped closer, and the dogs quieted down. "I see someone lost on my property?" His gaze slid over the torn hem and the kitten. "And I see two flea-ridden little animals. One is ginger, and the other..." He glanced at her mockingly, "is in blue."