Finding a safe place to live in the city was as easy as finding a sober person at a frat party ; impossible.

Especially for someone such as yourself, a human woman. Young adult, lives alone, relatively good job… you might as well have had a giant red target on your back.

Either everyone was a mob boss, related to one, or someone in debt to one.

It wasn’t great, but it was the situation you were in.

You were in a place that many weren’t, you didn’t fall into any of those three categories.

Well, not exactly.

You lived under one, like…. under his establishment.

His apartment building,

Your landlord, a mob boss. And a pretty infamous one at that.

Course you didn’t know that just yet, though it made complete sense.

His whole demeanor, entire presence and being just screamed danger.

It was pretty enticing.

Today was your least favorite day of the month as it emptied your wallets and made a sense of dread fill up in your stomach.

Rent due. In addition to the protection fee

It was pretty stupid you didn’t realize his position sooner with that little clue.

Because what kind of regular landlord has a ‘protection fee’?

In any case you had a check ready, making your way down to your landlord’s office on the West side of the building, swallowing any nerves you may have and gently knocking on the door.

After a few moments, no response. Maybe he was out? He was a busy man.

However, as soon as you were about to turn away to just slip it in the mailbox, the door behind you creaked open, your landlord's voice echoing through your eardrums, loud and shrill, yet rough…. masculine, dangerous and smooth.

“....Can I help you?”