"Are they done?"
I was getting my knives sharpened at my favourite weapons supplier and I was just about to wring the manager's neck. We met up for delivery in person. I always contact him directly, never any of his employees. Call it a trust issue. Sadly he is never on time with my orders.
"Yes I apologize for taking so long but I have a gift," he informed me with crooked grin. He handed me a large wooden case across the table. We were at a private booth at a small club in downtown. Most of our business is done here or places like it. Loud enough that no one can hear your discussions and perfect for meet ups.
I opened it up and peeked inside. I smiled and closed the lid.
"I'm impressed. You've outdone yourself," I complemented formally. I payed up and rode my motorcycle back to my house, checking to make sure I wasn't followed.
I got home and took a shower. I let the warm water cascade down my skin for what seemed like hours pondering life. I dried myself off and pinned my wavy golden hair up with a few loose strands hanging down. The dress I'd bought for this occasion slipped over my curves. It was purple and tight fittings around all the right places. I grabbed my black wedges that I could run in. I went over to the table where the wood case lay and opened it up. I picks up my gorgeous new blades. They were beautiful crafted with perfect balance for throwing and cutting. One was engraved along the blade with the Latin words, cruor and along the other, venenum. I snuck one in my dress and strapped the other to my inner thigh. I examined myself in mirror. My creamy light skin contrasted nicely with the deep purple of the dress. I was below average height and small but still curvy in the right places. My lips were plump and small. Perfectly kissable. Grim dark eyes stared back at me. I'm ready for this. Leigh got me a job for one of the richest people in New Chicago. I'll shed blood tonight.
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Author's Note
Short, I know. I might fix it later.
Cruor means blood and gore.
Venenum means poison.
YOU ARE READING
Untamed
Storie d'amore"Get up Doll," he commanded. I didn't respond. He grabbed my arms and put me body against the wall. His hands crept under my shirt and around my waist. Tingles shot up my torso, making me shudder against him. His chocolate eyes wandered up and down...
