Arabella Malik, the lethal American mob boss's daughter.
The beauty of the nineteen-year-old was well-known. Her hourglass figure and glowing grey eyes-which mirrored her father's, had practically everyone praising the ground she walked on.
Arabella...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
✰Ａｒａｂｅｌｌａ✰
"𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬"
I entered the club. My gaze was drawn to the low multicoloured lights and the various bodies that surrounded the floors.
As I began travelling through the impermeable room, the overpowering stench of weed, booze, and sweat struck my senses, causing me to cringe inwardly.
People parted paths for me unwittingly as I navigated through the crowd, until I arrived at my regular destination.
The bar.
If the mission was at a club or restaurant, I always made sure to order myself a beverage; trust me, it was necessary.
While leaning against the counter behind me, I politely ask the bartender to get me a gin and tonic.
I placed my elbows behind me and leant back entirely. I twirled a curl around my finger as I let my gaze fall over everyone in the room. Eyes were on me, though the ones I needed to be on me, weren't.
Chris, the objective for tonight, was seated at a table in the far corner of the room. Dressed in a plain white shirt with the top buttons undone and paired with black slacks.
Between his full lips was a large cigar, and only a greedy man's eyes could be seen.
He wasn't old; according to the information, he was twenty-four years old, albeit he appeared to be much older. Chris laughed and joked with the older males at the table, primarily about the women and how they were going to get 'lucky' and drag them into their so-called 'pleasure' realm.
Fucking pigs, some were.
And, just as I had anticipated, my keen observation of the man had been noticed. Chris's mate on his other side, a considerably older man, had smirked and nudged his arm.
Christ laughed and turned to the man, who nodded his head in my direction while I maintained eye contact. Chris's gaze was drawn to me, and his blue eyes locked on mine.
His lips curved into a smirk, and I smiled and bit my lower lip seductively before turning away from him.
I politely thanked the lady who handed me my drink. I could feel the man's gaze on my back, or more accurately, my ass. He was most likely assuring his men he'd be 'back,' which was code for 'I'm going to fuck a bitch and won't be returning.'
These types of males deserved to suffer in the depths of hell, they were absolutely disgusting, but they were easy targets, their sexual needs were their only weakness, they wouldn't care to fuck a lady in front of a full club, no, because their dick was more important to them.
I sipped, or rather, gulped, my beverage. Thankfully, I wasn't a lightweight. I could drink a fair amount of alcohol before becoming tipsy.
One single drink would simply boost my ego and make everything seem more bearable.
