I was walking down the shiny, but filthy streets of Las Vegas. Mercenary bastards, with crippling gambling addictionc, come to the casinos, to play all of their money away without a care in the World.
I've felt my feet become heavier as I took each step, so I had to sit down onto the nearest bench I could find. After I finally found it, I took off my mud covered boots to massage my ankles a bit. I closed my eyes to feel the warm summer breeze across my face, tangling into my brown locks. If I wasn't wearing a mini skirt, I would've definietly pulled up my knees to my chest, locking it with my arms. My eyes and ears ignored the vibrations coming out of the casino, but my nostrils widened at a familiar smell, I haven't smelt in months, or even years; fresh, out-of-the-box, Cuban cigars. I immediately unlatched my eyelids and glanced over, where the smell was coming from. It came from a very attractive and elegant man. He was taking a big sip, and puffed it with style.
"Get this son of a bitch outta here." He stated in a calm tone, barely acknowledging the taller man next to him, who reminden me of one of those hitmens, you see on the television. Then he bent down to the bloody-faced fella. "If I see you around my casino one more time.. You're dead. Understand?" The guy on the ground was breathing fastly, his heart almost jumped out of his chest. "Understand?!"
"Yes, yes I understand." He noddes then stood up and ran as fast as possible. I was focused on the running man, I didn't even notice the same tone calling out for me.
"Hey, little one!" As I realized it was for me, I slowly stared up at the powerful man.
"Can I help you with anything, sir?" I put a lazy smile on my tired face, trying to look normal.
"Are you okay?" He completely ignored my question. "You look like you're cold." He has walked closer to me, checking my forehead.
"I'm okay, sir. My ankles hurt, but other than that, I have nothing to complain about." He studied me, from my hair to down my feet. He analyzed every single detail about my appearance.
"Are you sure?" He bent down to me too, just like he did minutes before. "Don't lie to me, young lady. I can smell the lies." His cologne slipped into my nose. It was something, I was not familiar with. That perfume was heady, but comforting at the same time.
"I'm 100% sure, sir." I looked him in the eyes, winking once, attempting to flirt, but he was not in the mood. He huffed and took long, lazy steps back to his kingdom.
Well, it was my first encounter with the famous (or infamous?) man, the King of Casinos, Sam 'Ace' Rothstein, himself.
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House of the Rising Sun {ENGLISH}
Romance"I was unable to move, or even just breathe. His lips were magnetic, I could die being attached to it. His tough hands were tangled around my goosebumps covered back. His cologne filled up my nostrils even better than before. Our tongues were dancin...
