“Stay away from what’s mine, cagna,” Angel Dust scoffed, one of his four arms wrapping around you quickly. He could buy that asshole, and here he was, trying to take you away. “I own you, bitch,” he scoffed, shooing the perpetrator away.

“He doesn’t know who he messed with. He’ll be gone tonight, mio caro,” He crooned into your ear, chuckling as his sharp grin grew wider. He dipped you down low, his body growing enticingly flirty as he swayed. You were his—you wouldn’t leave the mafia.