This was one of my warm-ups before writing Strangulate, so it may be a bit confusing! Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy! <3

MAFIA AU ; Mob Boss! Dark x Mark

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Anti's hand tightened over Mark's shoulder.

"He's watching you," he said in his ear.

Mark took a deep breath, and he leaned back in his seat, letting the primal beat of the music thrum through his body. Lights flashed across Anti's face, and Mark looked up at him carefully.

They shared a glance.

Anti's hand slid from his shoulder, and he disappeared into a crowd of dancing bodies.

Mark carefully lifted his glass and draped an arm over his seat, looking around the club with his eyes. He didn't turn his head—careful not to reveal himself. His eyes passed over swaying bodies, laughing friends, kissing couples... then, in the darkest part of the bar, where the lights rarely reached, was him.

Damien "Dark" Edwards. Mafia boss. Cold-blooded killer. And...

Mark stared at him through the corner of his eye, watching him.

His ex.

A red light slid over the club and onto Dark's body, revealing his expression for a second. Hard-set brows, half-lidded eyes, and that deep frown. His eyes glittered red, and he laced his fingers together over his table, glaring over them.

The light slid back away.

Mark took another deep breath and lowered his glass, his hand lingering on it. It was cold to the touch—damp from condensation. It didn't do anything to calm the heat rising in his body. Dark's stare felt like molten lava, burning through his skin.

He clutched the glass as his heart began to race. All he had to do was lure him over... lead him to the designated location...

The music shifted into a heavier bass that rattled the glasses on the tables; a menacing, crooning tone. Mark swallowed, his breaths going faster.

He spared another sideways glance at Dark.

He still sat there, legs crossed and hands laced before his face, his posture impeccable. A black trench hugged the sharps and angles of his figure.

God, Mark didn't know whether to be intimidated or—dare he admit—aroused. He had always enjoyed that domineering, calculated stare—had always enjoyed the sadism in what he did for a living—but now that he wasn't with him anymore... and after what he'd done. . . that stare began to feel like a killer's gaze.

The music kicked up a notch, and Mark brought the glass up to his lips, his breath clouding its insides. His fingers tightened, subtly trembling.

Dammit, thought Mark, closing his eyes and swallowing. This was harder than he thought.

Mark tipped his head back and downed the rest of his drink, wishing it was alcoholic. He needed that burn down his throat and that heat in his belly, in his blood.

He needed something to distract him from Dark's merciless gaze.

But he had to follow through.

He set down his glass, stood up, and looked over at Dark.

Their eyes met.

They lingered there—Mark standing and Dark sitting—the music fading to a dull, echoing pulse around them. The red lights slid back over Dark's figure again, and his eyes glittered and narrowed, features electrifying. He planted his hands on the table and stood up.

Mark turned away and disappeared into the crowd.

Bodies brushed and pushed into him, dancing and laughing. The lights began to flicker, and Mark quickened his pace, his breaths going shallow. The music pounded through his chest, through his head, through every fibre of his being.

He knew Dark would follow.

He glanced over his shoulder and caught a glimpse of red eyes through the crowd.

Fuck. What was he thinking?

Mark ducked under a flurry of arms, nearly knocking into someone's drink. He cursed under his breath, trying to break up his path—make it less obvious where he was.

He could feel Dark getting closer.

He neared the end of the dance floor, pushing past bodies. The music pounded so loud that he couldn't tell if it was his heart that was thundering, or the music.

His foot reached the edge, and he broke through the crowd.

A hand caught his arm.

His blood went cold, and the hand tugged him back into the crowd.

Mark collided back into a body, and arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him in close. A hand slid up his neck, cupped his jaw, and pulled his face up.

His eyes met Dark's.

Mark's face went hot, and his breath left his lungs. Dark's fingers tightened around his jaw.

They lingered there—lost in each other's eyes—the music swirling into the background again. The bodies dancing around them faded into blurs.

Dark leaned down, his black hair falling before his eyes. His lips brushed against Mark's ear, breath hot against his skin, and he pulled Mark's head back into his shoulder, keeping him pinned.

"I've been watching you," said Dark, his voice rattling through Mark's skull.

Mark's breaths shuddered, and he swallowed, lashes fluttering.

"I know," he said.

Dark smirked, and he adjusted his grip on Mark's jaw. His finger slid up and ran across Mark's lips, feeling them. Mark swallowed and heaved for breath.

"What... what do you want?" said Mark, throat tight. Heat began to flush through him, but he tried pushing it aside. "Are you gonna kill me?"

A low, baritone chuckle crooned in his ear, and Mark shuddered, the sound never failing to affect him.

He didn't answer.

Dark's hand slid from Mark's jaw, and he gripped his arm, leading him out of the crowd. They crossed through tables and barsides, around more dancefloors and shouting crowds. The music pounded away all the while, booming and bass-heavy.

Mark's heart beat faster, the longer they walked. Dark's grip on his arm was bruising, never once wavering. He didn't look back at Mark; just kept walking through the club, his figure like a black mass among the glittering lights.

The darkness in the club began to lighten up, and Mark swallowed. The rush of cars and the cacophony of the city pounded ahead.

They were nearing the exit.

Mark's face paled, and he glanced around, searching for his friend, Anti. He had to be around somewhere—had to be catering a table nearby—

The doors swung open, and the club cut into skyscrapers, glittering city lights, and blinding neon signs.

Mark's body tingled, his hands beginning to tremble. Dark led him towards a black limousine parked in front of the club, and he opened the door in a single, fluid motion.

"Inside."

Mark's breath hitched, and he glanced at Dark, catching his eye.

As much as he didn't want to go inside—didn't want to get trapped with this psycho—he knew better than to resist. That was the downside of the mafia. Once you were in, you couldn't escape.

Dark's eyes glinted scarlet, and Mark ducked under the door and rushed inside.

Dark slipped in behind him, and the door slammed shut.

The limousine rolled into motion.

Mark glanced around the limo, adjusting to the darkness. A few strips of red lights ran along the ceiling.

"Sit."

Mark swallowed, and he sat down on the longest stretch of the couch. Dark sat on the seat beside the door. Keeping him trapped inside.

Mark glanced over at Dark and met his eyes, trying his best not to shake. Dark shifted and ran his hand up his waist—kept eye contact with Mark the entire time—and slid a gun out of his holster. Mark's breaths went shallow, the glint of the gun menacing in the corner of his eye.

"You remember this gun?" breathed Dark, holding it up.

Mark swallowed, and he spared a glance at the weapon. A sleak, black handgun, with a name in gleaming, golden cursive.

"Your 'Celine,'" answered Mark, voice small.

Dark nodded, and he tested the weight of his gun, resting his finger in the trigger guard. His thumb slid up and clicked off the safety.

Mark's heart shot in his throat.

"And you remember," said Dark, "how I went about killing, with this gun?"

Mark began to tremble. He couldn't help it. Even after being with Dark—after dealing with life or death agreements or full-on shootouts—he still couldn't keep his composure.

Dark leaned forward, knees on his elbows. Mark leaned back.

"I said," breathed Dark. "Do you remember?"

Mark's chest heaved, and he glanced at the gun. He nodded.

"Look at me," said Dark. Mark's gaze flicked onto his. "Now tell me"—he lifted the gun and pointed it at Mark lazily—"what I used it for."

Mark's nails dug into the seats, and he breathed hard, gaze wavering.

"I-I—" He shook his head, bottom lip trembling. "P-lease—don't kill me, Dark—"

Dark cocked the gun and slid into Mark's seat. Mark yelped and flinched back, curling in on himself when Dark pressed the gun into his forehead. The metal was cold—menacing.

Mark broke into a sob.

"Tell me, Mark."

Mark's throat tightened, and his vision went blurry. Dark glared down at him, red eyes practically glowing.

"Y-you..." Mark took a deep, shuddering breath. "You said you used it for... for your righteous kills." He scooted back, and Dark followed, the gun never leaving Mark's head. Pain prickled on his forehead. "You used it for—for the people who gave you a lot of trouble." He swallowed. "People like—like Wilford or t-the Kjellbergs."

Dark pressed the gun harder into Mark's forehead, and he winced, leaning back. Dark didn't stop pushing until Mark's body pressed into the seats, and he swung a leg over to straddle Mark, knee digging into the seat. He hovered over him, the red lights haloing around him.

Dark leaned down, breath hot over Mark's face—still pressing the gun against his head—and said dangerously:

"People like you."

Mark's eyes widened, and his face paled. His body froze.

"W-what—what are you t-talking about—"

"I told you the risks," seethed Dark, "when you started getting close to me." His eyes glinted. "I told you the consequences if you left."

Mark panted, gripping the seat like a lifeline.

"I-I know—" he gasped. "I-I know, and I—Dark, I stayed with you, b-but—but it was just—"

"Too stressful?" hissed Dark. "Too violent?"

Dark's finger tightened over the trigger, and he dug the gun into Mark's forehead until it broke skin. Mark whimpered, pain burning through him. Wet pooled hot over his skin and rolled down the side of his face. Blood.

"That's the world we live in, Mark," he growled. "You can't keep running from it."

Mark screwed his eyes shut, tears catching in his lashes.

"Y-you're not gonna kill me—j-just because I left." He swallowed, eyes fluttering open. "Are you?"

He locked eyes with Dark, trying to ignore the gun pressed against his head. But Dark didn't waver. Not a single twitch in his expression.

His finger tightened over the trigger.

"You didn't just leave, Mark," said Dark, voice quiet. Dangerous. "You betrayed me."

Mark's blood ran cold, and his eyes widened.

"You didn't think I'd find out?" breathed Dark. "I've known you for three goddamn years, Mark. I'm not dull." He lifted the gun and ran his fingers along its edge. "So when I saw those cops at my door..." He pulled back the slide and made sure there was a bullet inside. "I knew exactly who it was."

He let the slide click back into place, and he pressed the gun under Mark's jaw, tilting his head back. Mark breathed hard, his nerves on fire, adrenaline sending his head spinning.

"Why did they let you out so soon, anyway?" breathed Dark, tilting his head. His gaze seared into Mark's. "They know better than to..." Dark's face fell, and his voice trailed off. "Especially if you were..."

Mark managed a smile, his lips still trembling.

Dark shot up, and he glanced out the back of the limousine. His eyes landed on a cop car flitting in and out of traffic.

"XILEF!" Dark yelled. "PULL THE FUCK OVER!"

The limousine swerved. Cars honked and tires screeched. The limo crossed over two lanes.

Dark whirled on Mark, breathing hard.

"You..."

Mark sat up, and he scooted back, coughing out a laugh. Dark neared him, grip tight on the gun.

Mark's back hit the seat.

"H-ey—Dark—" He raised his hands to his chest, choking when Dark shoved the gun into his throat. "H—h-ey now—"

"Don't you 'hey now,' me," Dark bellowed. He lifted his knee and dug it into Mark's thigh. Hard. Mark winced, body jolting. "I'm gonna do more than just kill you now. You think I care about a few cops dead?"

Mark breathed hard, and he forced out a chuckle, the sound broken.

"Who said a few?"

Sirens blared, and Dark's eyes flashed, his breath catching. Red and blue punctuated the sky, blinding the innards of the limo.

"You bastard."

The limo screeched into an alleyway, and Mark and Dark stumbled to the side with the force. Sirens crooned behind them.

Dark bared his teeth and swung the gun across Mark's face. Mark shouted and knocked aside, clutching himself. Blood ran down his face.

Dark crouched over to the doors and rolled down the window. He pulled out a second gun and leaned out the window, wind roaring past his ears, through his hair. Lights flashed against his face.

He shot.

One. Two. Three.

A tire screeched. Cop car swerved—clipped the wall, exploded—tumbled over and over into shattered bits. Blocked the road.

Cop cars screeched to a halt, their sirens lighting up the sky. Dark breathed hard and slipped back inside, rolling up the window. He threw the still-smoking gun to the side.

"Xilef," Dark called, rushing forward and sliding back the driver's window. "How close are we to the mansion?"

Xilef gazed at him through the rear view mirror.

"Twenty minutes."

Dark laughed under his breath, and he combed his hair back, glaring down at Mark.

"You are unbelievable," he breathed.

Mark cowered against the seats, still clutching his bleeding head. Dark turned back to Xilef. The sirens still crooned through the sky.

"We'll have to crash at Blank's."

Xilef nodded, and he motioned towards Mark. "What about him?"

Dark glanced over his shoulder, glaring down at Mark. He sent him a sheepish smile, and Dark seethed, kneeing him in the gut. Mark doubled over and groaned.

"Oh, I'll deal with him," he said, kneeing him again for good measure. Dark gripped his hair, and he tugged him upwards, pulling him towards his face. Mark cried out and grasped at Dark's hands.

"Once the cops have died down," breathed Dark, breath fanning hot over Mark's face. "I'll make sure you're begging for me to kill you."

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I've been really into the Mafia AUs lately LmaoOOOOO hELp

Thank you so much for reading, and have a wonderful day!

See you tomorrow on Strangulate ;)

Love, Sh. A. xoxo