The Mistress

Chapter 1

Hello my peeps :) This is a new story!! I’m uber excited about this story, because I’ve worked really hard to bring back a fun writing style that I’ve been hoping to try out!! So—I’m going to keep it nice and short, this is my story and I hope that you guys like it!!

http://static.missguided.co.uk/media/catalog/product/cache/2/image/1516x1839/9df78eab33525d08d6e5fb8d27136e95/A/R/AR847-red-1.jpg_17.jpg  (the dress she's wearing!) 

http://www.fashionfuss.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/10/christian-dior-black-satin-dior-cabine-platform-pumps-1.jpg (the shoes she's wearing) 

*Important Message at the end :)*

 

Chapter 1

Madonna once said, “I’m tough, ambitious, and know exactly what I want. If that makes me a bitch, okay.”

She’s a woman after my heart.

“You bitch! I hope you die in hell!” I guess that the quote couldn’t have a more fitting place, I thought to myself as I threw my Tiffany sunglasses on, not even in the slightest fazed by the insults and threats that was getting thrown at me.

“Yeah and you’re no better, so I guess I’ll see you there darling!” I shouted back at her, before brushing my hazel hair over my shoulder and walked out into the beautiful Miami heat.

“Hey baby.” I looked up to see Julio Guantara standing against his brand new Bentley convertible with no doubt a huge packets of cocaine stashed in the front seat floorboards.

“Hey, your wife certainly took that well—she even told me she’d see me in hell. I think that the meeting went really great actually.” I replied teasingly.

Okay—okay so you caught me. I was sleeping with one of Miami’s biggest drug dealers and he was married. Whatever, I just brush off the judging and gossip. I watched as Julio gave a full belted laugh, his biceps rippling against the crisp $1,000 dollar shirt, his voice sounded felt cold butter melting on hot toast, and his arms felt constricting and dangerous as he wrapped them around my shoulders and pulled me into his car.

“So, as a celebration of a soon-to-be separation why don’t I take my new girl in her new dress to Zuma? I know how you love their spicy tuna rolls and tempura.” I forced a giggle and stroked of my hand down his abs as he escorted me into the plush, yet firm leather front seat and closed the door. I watched him walk around the front of the car and took this opportunity to stick the device underneath my seat and turn my cellphone on.

“We were so busy talking about your horrid wife that I didn’t even get to ask you how you’re doing today.” I pouted, keeping up my act, although I had to say if I had throw myself at him for even one more day I was going to kill someone.

“Aw, baby thank you for caring—you’re so much better than my shit wife, you’re what every man wants—smart, beautiful, you don’t pressure me about my drug dealing, and you’re amazing in bed.” I gave him my patented sultry “come hither” smile, because if I did anything else I knew that I would shove my arm down his throat.