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

with false lashes and thick

pale skin alone, considering I

lord Jesus

hair, and to finsish it off slid on some bronze blush to

came out of the bathroom feeling a very rare moment

I saw the shoes

were the highest thing i've ever seen, with their 6 inch heel heel,

could kill a man with a roll of toilet paper, and I can take apart an AR-15 and put

room and into the main living

and Slayer sat on the couch, watching TV, and when I stepped

dehydrated dogs, both of their eyes trailed

look kinda fucking good. svyatoye der'mo. holy

I'm not wearing these" U said as I held the stilettos

brows turned inward into

"I'm sorry I can't walk in these, its

shrugged, "They look

head and stomped my foot childishly, "I'm not

got off the couch, and

his fingers over the heel,

it back to me, "Looks fine to me. You're a trained assassin, you've killed people...and you're telling me that you're too scared to walk in a

"Big shoe" I corrected.

those shoes, I don't give a rats ass what you think. You wear the fucking shoe, or I will fucking

Fuckingfuckingfuckingfucking.

like

from the hotel

there he was, dressed in a black satin suit, that complimented his black hair and

and his bottom

he looked breath taking.

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