Dear Reader,
Thank you so much for reading this. This is my first story and that I thank you for checking it out! This is a male x male story just to clear up all confusion that anyone may have because of this chapter. I am also new to posting stories and don't know how to set a rating for the story but it's an M for situations that show up later and language. Also if anyone knows French or sees a mistake in any of my grammar then please don't hesitate to inform me. Thank you kind readers for reading this and I hope you enjoy this story~ =^w^=
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Chapter 1: Cold hearted

Francois sighs as he wipes the blood off of his revolver, another 'peace treaty' gone badly. The way this is going, every mafia in France would be after him…like they already weren't.

Francois takes a long drag of his cigarette before dropping it on the gas covered, mutilated, dead body of the rival gangs spy. He turns to his men as the body catches fire and motions for them to torch the abandoned warehouse. Just as his father had told him years ago, no chance of a witness if you burn all of the evidence. The men nod and quickly run off to do as their boss had ordered, they feared him when he was angry.

Francois sighs as he gets into the black limo, he was tired and just wanted to get home. He sits back and lights another cigarette, taking a long puff before looking to the driver. "*maison" was all he had to say before the driver started to make his way back to the mafia house.

Francois watches the quaint little village's houses as he goes by them in the limo. He viewed everything and everyone as beneath him, a waist of a good life, and he ruled them all with an iron fist and a cold heart. He didn't care who he stepped on or how many people he has killed in this business. As long as this village knew not to mess with him or his men then he wouldn't burn it to the ground.

The French man was a bit jealous of the village's inhabitants, though he would never say it out loud or show it to anyone. He never showed many emotions in the first place, even to his own son. He just couldn't help but wish for a somewhat normal life. He even sometimes wished for a permanent companion, one that wasn't like the girls at the brothel he owned. He wanted someone to spend his eternity with.

As the blond Frenchman looked out the window he couldn't help but notice the tranquility that tonight had brought with it. "*son une bonne nuit pour un bon livre et de la fumée, non?" his driver smiled and asked over his shoulder to his boss. He expected no reply, and he got non, it was normal with the dirty looking French man. He just continues to smoke till they reach the mafia's house and gets out, nothing but smoke leaving his chapped lips.

The tall mafia boss walks up the driveway to the old looking mafia house. The house was very old and looked to be crumbling with all the missing and broken bricks in the outside walls covered in dark green vines. The lawn was either dirt or very dark brown colored dead grass, and the whole thig was fenced off from the rest of the world by a tall rusty fence and electronic gate. The French man huffs as he walks and to the door, they never had to lock it, the guards and his reputation helped with that.

The inside of the house was just as bad as the outside, maybe even worse. Trash, cloths, food, and broken furniture littered the ground of the large house. If it wasn't for the constant loud screaming of the tv or members of the house, one would even be able to hear the pitter pater and the squeaks of the mice in the walls and across the floor. The air was thick with cigarette smoke and swears as the boss walked in and grumbled to his workers, he needed to get them to clean up or they could set there only safe zone on fire, he didn't want to have to deal with that. He steps over the trash and goes to the kitchen to see how much longer till dinner. The food they ate constantly was as the French man had said "*merde, merde absolue" but it was all they could do.

He gave up on going to the kitchen, deciding instead to just go to his office since he couldn't make it to the kitchen with all the trash in the way. This was not how a mafia's house should look like, it would make his father stir in his grave if he saw how his son had let this place go. When passing someone he speaks quickly, not wanting to stay long "*envoyer jusqu'à Mathieu" before he goes up the stairs to relax in his office.

When he opens the large double doors to the room he is happy to have some peace, his blood stained dress shoes clapping against the hard wood floors as he makes his way to the large desk. He plops lazily into his black leather rolling chair and sits back to relax for a moment, taking out his burnt down cigarette in an ashtray and re lighting a new one. He had to find a cheap way to clean this damn house.

He looks through the bills and junk mail his men had placed on his desk, thinking nothing of anything until he sees a random ad that was appealing to him. It was an ad for a maid service, and for a cheap price, that was good enough for him. As he was thinking about this he heard a knock before his son walked in. "You wanted to see me papa?"

Francois looks up at his son before looking through the bills again "*oui, I need you to call this number" his French accent deep and booming as he hands him the aid. Mathieu nods and takes the ad, hesitating for any other orders before leaving. The French man sighs, he needed to give his son more attention as well, hopefully with the maid here and the house clean, things will get calmer and he'll get time to get to know Matt better. Little did the French man know, his hopes will be answered, and things will really start to change around the mafia house.

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Translation (done with google translate, sorry) :
1: house
2: its a good night for a good book and smoke, right?
3: crap, absolute crap
4: send Mathieu up
5: yes