This is a DeVanté Swing anthology collection of stories, also known as Imagines. Some stories may have more than one part, while others are one shots.
⚠️⚠️IF YOU'RE UNDER THE AGE OF 18 OR UNCOMFORTABLE WITH SEXUAL THEMES, THIS BOOK AIN'T FOR YOU!⚠️⚠️
We have to develop these close FAKE friendships with people under investigation, just for shit like this to happen. Well, it didn't happen yet, but it's about to. I walked past the naked men and women sat around, bagging up the drugs. I heard screaming from other rooms. I had to sell drugs, but they were always sold to my coworkers or other big-time dealers that we're also trying to bust.
My friend and I were only to walk in after being checked THOROUGHLY. The difference between now and back in the day, is that wires are no longer needed. All we need are earpieces and tiny cameras that can't even be seen. Those items are sometimes attached to clothing items. Phones aren't allowed inside the warehouse either.
"Hey, boss!" Iris called out.
I have never met BOSS, but since my sales are soaring, here's my chance. I am requested by the man himself. He's the top of the top! It's only been a little over three months. Today's the day we bust this whole ordeal. There have been so many overdoses regarding them as well as murders. He turned his chair around.
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(Leonid)
What is this? The seventies? 🥴 "Iris." He replied to her. "Stasia." He said referring to me, the name I came up with for this. Well, he made up a nickname. It's Anastasia.
"Sir." Iris returned.
"It's an honor meeting you, sir," I replied in my best Russian accent.
"There he is." I heard a team member speak into my ear.
"I have never met a black Russian before." Boss chuckled. "I must say that I'm impressed by your skills." He said in Russian.
"Thank you, sir." I gladly replied in Russian, knowing damn well I was born and raised in America with American parents. It was a test on his end. He wanted to be sure that I am who I say I am.
"Hmmm..." He nodded, lighting a cigar. I feel like I'm in a film right now. 🤣 "Again, impressed." He chuckled. "What part of Russia are you from?"
"Chelyabinsk, sir," I replied.
"What made you get into this business? You're pretty young to be doing this." He questioned.
"I guess it's my way of rebelling against the American parents." I joked, holding up quotaions.
