Malika and Mr. Ex-Mafia [ON GOING]

10: Wanna Cut My Hair

⚠️WARNING⚠️
YOU'LL FIND SEXISM, BODYSHAMING AND SLUTSHAMING SENTENCES THAT DISRESPECT US AS WOMEN, MATURE CONTENT, AND VIOLENCE. PLEASE, BE WISE!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!

"This is your cost for being my private driver today, Sir," that bitch said with her sparkling eyes, handed me a 50 cent as a cost.

I puzzled, but accepted her fucking coin. What the fuck is wrong with me?

She was going to get off, but she turned at me again with her flat face as I think she just remembers something. "Oh yeah. Before I drop off here, lemme tell you something," she said while pointing her right index finger to the air, like giving an advice or warning to a toddler.

I keep quiet, waiting her to continue as she just purges her throat. She then stares me with her sharp gaze, leans her face closer to my face. "Don't. ever. call. me. babydoll. again,"

She continues before I open my mouth. "You wanna know why? Because you're not better than my fiance, even worse than him. I have a rule to myself that I won't date a 50 years old man like you just for being a sugar baby."

How can she thinks I'm 50 years old? I even almost do not have any fucking gray hair on my entire body.

I curse her immediately. "Fuck-"

But, she cuts me off as she knows what's in my fucking brain right now. "Oh ya, Sir? But your bushy, messy poor hair, your thick-as-jungle beard make me sure you're a poor 50 years old man. No offense, I'm just saying a fact. Since you know I'm still 21, so yeah, grandpa. Once again, thank you for being my private driver," she said with smirk in her bitchy face, the rushed into her apartment, taking long strides.

She wins the game.

NO! IT'S NOT OVER!

I reach the inside rearview mirror that hung on the front glass, adjusting it, so that it can reflect a part of my face. I stare at ths rectangle thing that reflects my gaze. I then look up, so that the mirror can present my jaw to my vision. I rubbing my beardy jaw as her words can not go away from my memory.

I take off the mirror from its place, then throw it until I broke the front glass, since my mind is battling about what what she said. My jaw is also clenched as my hand creates a strong at tight ball until I even can't feel the sense of my finger. Steering wheel becomes my prey as I hit it a hundred time, regretting my fools. Fuck! I'm such a motherfucker. Why can I let that slut wins effortlessly?

"Luca! Call Sam to my house. Make sure he's already coming when I come home!" I hung up the phone immediately, then drive to my house.

***