Little Shop of Romance | A Striker x Reader Story

Three

The shark from before stepped inside my shop, flanked by two thugs. I stand on the lower step of the stairs, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible. The shark looks around, a deep chuckle rumbling as he says, "A pity you didn't take us up on our offer."

I shrug, tilting my head, "A shame, really, that you couldn't leave well enough alone."

From above me in the shadow, a crack rang out. A second later, the shark dropped, then one thug...and then the other. The scent of gunsmoke wafted by, mingling with the scent of blood and what I assumed were brains. Three perfect headshots. 

I turn to look up the stairs where Striker had hidden in the shadows. His one gold tooth glinted in the light as he came down the stairs. 

"Good shot," I compliment, "Though, I can't sell the books with gore on them now."

Striker chuckles, "Just discount 'em."

I roll my eyes and head back up the stairs, "I don't know about you but I need a drink."

Striker follows me back into the kitchen, where I pull out a bottle of whiskey. Opening it, I take a swig right from the bottle before handing it to Striker.

"So," I say, "What do you normally do after killing mafia sharks?"