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.

did my makeup dark- and

eyelashes covered with false lashes

left my pale skin alone, considering

Jesus

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

feeling a very rare moment of

it was soon replaced with dread when I saw the shoes I was suppose to

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

roll of toilet paper, and I can take apart an AR-15 and

main living room, holding the heels in one hand, and

and Slayer sat on the couch, watching TV,

like dehydrated dogs, both of their eyes trailed along

kinda fucking good. svyatoye der'mo. holy shit." Slayer

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

into

I can't walk in these, its

look fine

and stomped my foot childishly,

couch, and grabbed the shoes from

over the heel, and studied

shrugged and handed it back to me, "Looks fine to me. You're a trained assassin, you've killed people...and you're telling me

"Big shoe" I corrected.

my point is that you are wearing those shoes, I don't give

Fuckingfuckingfuckingfucking.

sound just like Sin." I

voice from the hotel room entry

there he was, dressed in a black satin

wore dark dress pants, and his bottom lip

he looked breath taking.

saw me staring at him, and laughed "Like what you