Mafia Boss Taught His Hitman A Brutal Lesson After He Hurt My Waitress Daughter
Previously: A brutal mob lieutenant crossed the line when he laid hands on a young waitress. Little did he know, her father was the most feared man in the city, and he wouldn't stand for it.
A Price for Disrespect
Vivian Beaumont’s amusement turned to explosive rage in an instant. With a sickeningly swift motion, he delivered a brutal high-speed backhand slap across Tommy’s face. The crack of bone and skin echoed through the tavern, a raw, wet sound that made Tommy’s head whip violently sideways. Spit flew from her split lip as the tarnished copper tray she still clutched crashed to the floor with a deafening metallic clang. Hot tears streamed down her pale cheeks, a testament to the agonizing shock and pain. Her trembling fingers instinctively went to her bleeding lip.
"Clean it up with your tongue, or I'll take your hands next!" Vivian sneered, a mocking laugh baring his teeth.
As Vivian’s arrogant laughter filled the air, Tommy’s world swam in a haze of pain and disbelief. She remained frozen, clutching her lip, the metallic taste of blood filling her mouth. In the dim amber light, a towering silhouette began to rise from the corner booth. Don Salvatore Moretti, his face a mask of granite, his obsidian eyes fixed on Vivian. His presence was a palpable force, a chilling calm before the storm.
Heavy leather-soled boots stepped into the rain-streaked light with ominous, measured weight. Salvatore advanced, his black cashmere overcoat flowing around him like liquid shadow. His jaw was clenched with murderous composure, his gaze locked onto Vivian. The sneering bravado that had moments before characterized the mob lieutenant instantly disintegrated, replaced by a pale, sweat-sheened terror. He knew that look. He knew that cold, quiet fury. He had seen it precede unspeakable violence.
"Vivian. Did I give you permission to raise a hand under my roof?" Salvatore’s voice was a chilling, subterranean baritone, each word laced with deadly intent.
Vivian’s eyes bulged in petrified horror, his jaw unhinged, his throat bobbing in suffocating dread. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Tommy, pressed against the timber beam, could only gasp through parted nostrils, her own pain momentarily forgotten in the face of her father’s terrifying wrath. The power dynamic in the tavern had shifted irrevocably. Vivian had made a grave mistake, not just by hurting Tommy, but by doing so under her father’s watchful eye.
”Vivian had made a grave mistake, not just by hurting Tommy, but by doing so under her father’s watchful eye.