The Mafia's Obsession:El rey

In the dimly-lit bar, the low murmur of conversations and clinking glasses fill the air, accompanied by the occasional burst of laughter. El Rey sits at a table in the back, flanked by his trusted gang members. Their discussion is intense, focused on the intricacies of their latest criminal endeavor.

In the midst of the conversation, the bar is punctuated by a loud crash, and the sound of breaking glass echoes throughout the room. All eyes turn to the source of the commotion - a young, inexperienced waitress, visibly shaken as she stands amidst the shattered remains of a tray of drinks.

El Rey's icy glare shifts from the broken glass to his expensive shoes, now soaked with the remnants of the spilt drinks. His face contorts with rage as he slowly removes his cigarette from his mouth, his lips curling into a snarl.

"You incompetent fool!" he roars, his voice booming over the jeers and taunts of his colleagues. "Look at what you've done!"

The young waitress trembles before him, her face ghostly pale as she cowers in fear.

"And now you expect me to just sit here and ignore this?" El Rey spits, his words dripping with venom. "You think I'm going to let you get away with this? You're going to clean this up, and then you're going to clean my shoes, too. With your tongue."

A hush falls over the bar, the rowdy atmosphere instantly replaced by a palpable tension as the waitress freezes in place, realizing the danger she's now in.

El Rey's menacing gaze bores into the waitress, his jaw clenched tight as he awaits her response. The crowd watches in silence, each person understanding the dire consequences of the situation, yet none willing to interfere.

Finally, the waitress speaks, her voice barely above a whisper. "Yes, sir," she stammers, her body trembling as she sinks to her knees, resigned to her fate.

As the waitress lowers herself to the ground, El Rey's gaze travels downward, lingering on the curves of her exposed cleavage. Her meager uniform leaves little to the imagination, the fabric straining against her voluptuous figure.

A smirk begins to creep across El Rey's face as he watches her, his eyes glinting with newfound interest. The situation may be to his advantage after all, he thinks, a dark hunger stirring within him.

In a fluid motion, El Rey approaches the quivering waitress, enveloping her in a cloud of smoke. With his free hand, he reaches for the name tag on her chest, giving it a playful flick with his thumb. A predatory grin stretches across his face as he studies the name on the tag, savoring the moment.

"Maria," he purrs, his voice low and silky as he leans in close, the heat of his breath tickling her ear. "You're going to make this up to me, aren't you, Maria?"

Just as El Rey was about to continue his advances, a voice cuts through the air, drawing his attention. It's one of his colleagues, his face stern as he steps between El Rey and the waitress.

"Enough, boss," the colleague says, his voice firm and authoritative. "Let her go. We have more important matters to attend to."

El Rey glares at the man for a moment, a fire smoldering in his eyes, before relenting with a sigh. The waitress takes the opportunity to flee the scene, dashing off into the crowd before El Rey can stop her.

El Rey rises to his full height, towering over his colleague with a look of pure dominance. "Don't you ever interfere with my business again," he growls, the words dripping with threat. "I am the boss here, and you will remember your place."

The colleague lowers his gaze, knowing better than to challenge El Rey's authority. "Yes, boss," he murmurs, his tone humble as he backs away from the table.

El Rey narrows his eyes as he watches the man retreat, considering the potential ramifications of his insubordination.

Back in the safety of the restroom, Maria clutches the cold porcelain sink, gasping for breath as the reality of her situation hits her like a freight train. She curses under her breath, her cheeks burning with embarrassment as she replayed the incident in her mind.

Just as her heart rate begins to slow, the door swings open, and a familiar face appears in the mirror. It's her friend, Rosa, a fellow waitress at the bar.

"Maria!" Rosa exclaims, her eyes wide with concern. "Are you alright? I heard something happened out there."

Maria takes a deep breath, attempting to compose herself before facing Rosa. "I messed up," she admits, her voice quivering slightly. "I spilled drinks on the shoes of some gangster, and he... he was about to do things to me."

Rosa gasps, covering her mouth with a trembling hand. "Oh my God, Maria! Are you okay? That sounds so scary."

Maria nods, tears welling up in her eyes as the adrenaline begins to wear off. "I'm okay now," she says, her voice growing steadier. "But that guy...

Maria's expression turns grave, her words heavy with dread. "That guy was El Rey," she whispers, the name leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. "The gang lord himself. Do you know what he could have done to me?"

Rosa's eyes widen in horror, her hand instinctively reaching out to grasp Maria's shoulder. "Oh no, El Rey? That's... that's bad news, Maria. He's dangerous. You need to be careful."

Maria nods slowly, her mind racing. "I know," she replies, her voice barely above a whisper.

As the night wore on, El Rey found himself growing increasingly restless. His thoughts kept returning to the waitress, Maria, and the look of terror on her face when he'd cornered her. He wanted to see her again, to feel the thrill of her fear, but he knew it wouldn't be wise to cause a scene at the bar.

Just then, a waitress passed by his table, carrying a tray of drinks. El Rey's gaze latched onto her, and he quickly beckoned her over.

"What's your name?" he demanded, his voice low and commanding.

The waitress stopped in her tracks, a look of wariness passing over her features. "My name is Rosa," she said hesitantly, her eyes darting from El Rey to his cohorts, who watched the exchange with keen interest..