A/N This is just a shitty fanfiction I’ve written based on a Tumblr prompt by @andyrandystonybony I’m basing this mostly off from research I’ve done on gangs, but with a mafia spin on it (so if you know about the mafia your notice a lot of the same morals and Hierarchy are applied here.) But I am labelling this as an organized crime as it’s a lot more broader and easier to understand. I am also basing a lot from the TV show Gotham (mostly the first series) and the book The Runaways (which is a really good book by Martina Cole, I would recommend it to anybody who likes that sort of thing). I am from England and not America and although I’ll try to keep this American I may still have things that are British lurking about so if you are American, feel free to help, I would appreciate it a lot. Okay, so on to the fun stuff.
Warnings- will be written with each chapter and added as we go along. Seeing as this is just a starting out chapter and this is just being used to establish Shane and his place within the family the only warning I can think about is drugs and murder, along with possible violence and character death.
Pairings- Shara for a brief period. (Shyan will come later though guys, Y'all be glad that I did this if this story doesn’t flop)
Era- 1920’s
Prologue- part one.
Today was the day when Shane Madej finally took the family, he was working second in command for. The day when history would declare him Americas- no, the world- would declare him the greatest boss of the roaring 20s. Maybe of all time if he managed to keep the family under his name and under no others. With Andrew Ilnyckyj by his side, nothing could go wrong. The boss he was working under was old anyway, became too soft with age; almost like a cheese that went wrong, that instead of being intense and strong, withered into mould.
He stood in the wear house with a gun pointed towards the man, not an eye in sight to spot him commit the crime. He knew he was going against basic morals here, such as breaking his bosses’ loyalty to him, but the boss wouldn’t be able to talk. Nobody got through this business by playing nice.
Shane cocked the gun, the feeling of metal, iced his fingers in a way that grounded him. The odd smell of his own sweat and anticipation filled the air. His heart, beating like thunder, could be heard in the most loudest of dance halls. Every sense was taken over by this moment and Shane – call him oddly strange- would gladly say that the feeling was far better than any sexual feeling. No disrespect to his Sara of course, she was one heck of a dame bless her, but there are just some things a mans gotta enjoy without his significant other. She was waiting with Andrew not far from Wearhouse. He and the big man were glaring war towards each other, their movements of pacing a circle almost metaphoric for how long they had been chasing each other’s tail.
“You know, if you do this Shane, you’re going to have a lot of guys after ya. Coppers, Mobsters from all over, all trying to Bleep you off. Now I personally think I’m being fair by allowing this little…” The well-suited man took a pause, a drag of smoke steaming off his lips before he looked back at Shane,
“Joke, because that’s what it is, you a boss? You haven’t got the balls boy” he snarled, his eyes glaring into Shanes, almost as If he was challenging the younger man. Well if that was the case. Challenge accepted.
“Your wrong boss, you’re the soft one here and if anything, I’ll be the one who puts this family down into history”. Shane then allowed a sick and twisted smile to reach his features, his face not far off Macbeth. Power hungry with a can of blood. Before the boss could even mutter a word, a bang erupted inside the room.
Silence. That all Shane could hear through the ringing of his ears, the thump of his Bosses heartbeat and bullet ripping through skin. Shane couldn’t help but smile. He couldn’t help but feel his smile twist into one of sick desire, his eyes glazing over with the sweet joy of murder. Shane Alexander Madej was now the new boss of this family, and with Andrew and Sara by his side, nothing could go wrong. Nothing.
A couple of weeks later, when the wine left its bottles and deaths had been staged. Everything went wrong. And as he clutched a withering Sara to his chest, he knew what his first job as a boss was. Bring down the bastard coppers that dared to bump off his moll.
