The Russian Mobster: Russian Mafia Romance

"Net. Nope sorry you fucktard Russians, I refuse." I muttered childishly as I stared into the mirrior at my reflection.

It wasn't a dress, it was a shirt.

It was unbelievably short, it came a good six inches above my knees.

It was black, strapless, and it looked really expensive, which really didn't make any sense to me because if you have a small amount of clothing its suppose to cost less right?

like those cute little shoes that are meant for toddlers that you'd see at Target or something.

but not with this dress, it was black and very very revealing.

I want to just crawl under the bed and scream.

"You look kinda hot, I don't see what the problem is? look me and Slayer got you pretty little makeup and hair shit, you can be like a barbie." Xavier said with an all-too innocent smile.

I flipped him off.

"Come on Grey, you got a nice body, its time to show it off." He shrugged as he pushed a lock of chocolate hair out of his eyes, and sat at the edge of the bed.

I walked over to the paper bag and peered in.

sure enough they got everything, and good brand names too.

"How'd you know what to get?" I frowned.

his lips pulled up into a proudful grin.

"Cute little blonde check-out girl" he licked his lips.

I quickly decided not to say anything more on the subject, instead I shooed him out, and began to get ready.

I curled the tips of my dark red hair, and slid product in.

makeup dark- and smoky

covered with false lashes and thick black

left my pale skin alone, considering

Jesus for

bring out my hair, and to finsish it off slid on some

of the bathroom feeling a very

was soon replaced with dread when I saw the shoes

seen, with their 6 inch heel heel, it almost made me

a roll of toilet paper, and I can take apart an AR-15 and put it back together, but

the room and into the main living room, holding the heels

on the couch, watching

like dehydrated dogs, both of their eyes trailed along my

fucking good. svyatoye der'mo. holy shit." Slayer said,

not wearing these" U said as I held the stilettos for them to

brows turned inward into a frown, "Why

can't walk in these, its technically impossible. they are too

look fine to

head and stomped my foot childishly,

the couch, and grabbed the shoes

ran his fingers over the

You're a trained assassin, you've killed people...and you're telling me that you're too scared to walk in a little

"Big shoe" I corrected.

not my point little girl, my point is that you are wearing those shoes, I don't give a rats ass what you think. You wear the fucking shoe, or I

Fuckingfuckingfuckingfucking.

like

voice from the hotel room entry

in a black satin suit, that

dress pants, and his bottom lip ring

he looked breath taking.

at him, and laughed "Like what