An assassin finds himself at a loss when he needs to take out a group of mobsters in a quiet and natural way. He finds out all the mobsters are close companions who send their kids to the same school. He needs to make his way into their friend group...
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A few terms:
Oyster Fruit: Pearls
Sap: Idiot
Cuppa Joe: Coffee
Bitters: An alcoholic ingredient
Dame: A mature woman
Floozy: A woman who behaves provocatively
Lezzy: A woman attracted to women.
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A bright sunrise shone on the district of Manhattan. The most populated out of New York City's five boroughs.
The heart of "the Big Apple."
Its iconic sites of skyscrapers racing each other in a game to touch the soft blue sky.
Underneath the enormous buildings, people littered the streets and sidewalks. Life here was upbeat and fast paced and everyone and everything was moving.
Cars through the streets, some crashing in the gamble of driving. Fights broke out while the distracted bystanders would be pickpocketed. Different stories were being made every second in every place.
Above all of it watching from his desolate penthouse, a man stood on his balcony. The city below seemed so far away it was like another world, those people looked as small as ants and all their problems as well. All the struggles in the concrete jungle were like a play where he sat in the theater's best seats waiting for the finale.
He soon had enough of the show. He snuffed out the cigarette butt that rested between his lips and ventured back into his bedroom closing the glass doors behind him. He ruffled his unruly inky hair, he's yet to prepare himself for the day. He usually awoke early every morning before the sun had a chance to rise. Though this morning he was later than he preferred.
It was all thanks to the woman with crimson hair resting in his bed, not that he was complaining. He leaned against his bedpost and reached for his white dress shirt stained with maroon lipstick. He sighed at the ruined shirt before throwing it to the side to find something more pristine to wear.
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The man left his room with a navy suit adorning his muscular figure. He walked towards his kitchen his loafers clacking along the corridor. His stormy gaze traced the layout of his apartment.
If one were to enter his abode they'd think he was preparing to move. The space was blank and mediocre. It lacked what most homes had, it wasn't decorated not even a house plant was in sight. Not a single picture frame with grinning faces. It was just empty with all the bare necessities.
