Chapter 7 by Zeebop

Who does Tyrell say 'they' are?

The Mafia

Lois Lane almost sputtered when he said that.

"The Mafia? Like, the actual Mafia? Not the Russian Mafia, or the Irish Mob, or the Golden Dragons Tong, or Intergang, or Joker's Gang but—the actual Mafia?" Her voice conveyed her utter disbelief.

Tyrell nodded. "Michael Corleone shit. Most people these days almost forget about 'em. The thing about old-school organized crime is it works. Maybe not as flashy as some supervillain-backed gang or international syndicate, but they still move a lot of ****, smuggle and steal, handle bookmaking, theft...and prostitution."

Lois swallowed another mouthful of the grey goo. She knew she should ease up on the cocktail, but a part of her was still in disbelief that she was dealing with the actual Italian-American Mafia. Dozens of films and television shows had colored her impression of the organization, and it was hard to filter out what she thought she knew from watching The Godfather and The Sopranos from what she actually knew about them from news and police reports.

"The Metropolis Mob is a branch of the Gotham Mob, part of the Falcone family," Tyrell said. "The Falcones, they got this deal with another mob group in Italy...the 'Ndrangheta. Women get shipped overseas, sold to pimps, brothels in Europe. No ID, no money, don't speak the language...real hard life."

The reporter nodded. The international connection made sense, and she'd heard of the 'Ndrangheta. They were centered in Calabria.

Then her eyes narrowed. Her free hand came to rest on his thigh, squeezing his leg...except it wasn't his leg she was squeezing. A blush bloomed across both of her cheeks as she instinctively began to trace the shape of his cock.