Drawing Dead - Chapter Twenty-Three: Bulletproof
Read my Rusame Mafia fic, here!
Alfred needs money. He works in an obscure Russian restaurant, lives in a shitty apartment with his ex, and rent is on the rise. He thinks he’s found the perfect gig—Until his side job draws the attention of some of Manhattan’s less savory characters. He grows close to one, a mob boss referred to as the “Old Bear.” Ivan Braginsky may offer protection, and even a way to make quick cash. Then again, he could also prove the least savory of them all.
"Drawing Dead is when a player has absolutely no chance to win a hand, no matter what card is dealt next."
Human Mafia AU; Rusame focus, with references to past USUK.
“You think you’re a threat now?” Humor rippled through Feliciano’s eyes before reaching his lips. He nearly contained himself; then, his arms folded around his abdomen, and he hugged himself as he shook with laughter. Alfred’s face burned. “Ah, oh, is that why you think you’re here? Mm? You’re a threat!”
“I’m here,” Alfred said, ignoring the ache grinding into his teeth. “If I’m not a threat, what does that make you? The fact that he sent me, of all people, to deal with your ass… What’s that say about how seriously he takes you?”
At first, Feliciano shook his head. He was still giggling behind closed lips, trying, failing, to collect himself. When Alfred showed no interest in shifting topics, Feliciano hummed, a goading little tune. “My brother would say you’re a liability. A burden on your team.” His eyes grew alongside his smile. “Me? I don’t think so harshly. No, no. I have more faith in the Old Bear than that. I just thought you would have realized by now…”
Feliciano’s expression turned pensive, and Alfred bit his tongue. From the corner of his eye, he noticed one of Ivan’s men glance in his direction. Alfred gave a miniscule shake of his head, and the man settled back on his heels. Feliciano took that as a cue to continue.
“I hate to be the one to tell you this, my friend, but the Old Bear finds you disposable.” Feliciano laughed, then gasped, remembering to feign a look of sympathy. “Oh… He doesn’t send you off on these big, exciting missions because he trusts you! Silly. No! You’re loyal, that’s good. But you’re reckless. Bound to self-destruct. That’s bad! Unless? The Old Bear can set you up with the sticky tasks no one else is foolish enough to take charge of. You see now? You’re going to blow up, amico. Your boss is just hoping you’ll take some of his opponents out with you, when you do.”