[𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐍-𝐎𝐅𝐅]
Drug cases have spread around the city of Chicago like wildfire, and Mavis Loman has been tasked with finding the root of it all. However, there is just one man who knows the ins and outs of every crime as if he w...
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Monday, July 17th
My father was never really much of a father.
No matter how much he spoiled me, there was never an emotional bond between us. If anything, the only connection we had was through money. It's not like things changed after my mother passed away. He was just always like that.
Too busy to pay attention to his daughter, so much so that he didn't realize that I was planning his death as I nodded and smiled at his words. After the night I murdered him, I turned to the only person I knew I could rely on.
Grayson.
He was my first friend. My first real friend. Not one that I made because one of my father's friends had a kid the same age as me.
Thanks to Grayson, convincing Dawson to let me be a part of the Vipers went smoothly. I wanted nothing to do with my father's mafia, so I left it to burn to the ground. However, now that I am a part of the Vipers, Dawson has me doing the work that he doesn't want Grayson to do.
Like for instance, tricking a millionaire into telling me all of his secrets.
As I reach the front door of their mansion, the head housekeeper, Moe, is already there waiting for me. She bows to me, which I return, and allows me to enter. I head straight for Dawson's office, where I know they'll be. I knock twice, and from behind the door is the voice of the Australian bastard I work for.
"Come in!"
When I enter, I see that Dawson is sitting on one of the couches in front of his desk, while Grayson is sitting on the desk, swinging his legs slightly.
"What's up with you?" Grayson asks, instantly addressing my mood as soon as I walk in.
Over these past two years of me being a part of this business, Grayson hasn't changed much at all. Perhaps the only difference between him then and now is that he's gotten even prettier. His gorgeous, naturally blond hair has grown just underneath past his ears, where he has double ear piercings on each ear. Those hazel eyes of his give me a look, and even while concerned, they glimmer. To put it simply, this man looks like a prince.
If I'm being honest, I used to have a crush on Grayson when we first became friends. I thought that he was cute, especially with that French accent of his. When he came out to me as gay, those feelings eventually faded away, and now I feel nothing but platonic love for him.
Nowadays, Grayson doesn't speak French as much as he did a few years ago. But when he sees his sister, their conversations consist mainly of French.
"I just got back from work, leave me alone." I plop down on the couch across from Dawson, sighing into the cushions.
"Be nice, Mav," Dawson scolds, looking over the rim of his glasses from his laptop.
I have to be careful about what I say to Grayson, especially around his lover. Even though what I say is mostly playful, his Doberman of a fiancé never misses a moment when someone tries to slander his man.
