Choking On Sapphires

70 Killer Shangri-Lah (NSFW)

You're in front of a large vanity in a hotel room in northern England. You're getting in one last good scratch to your compressed down hair before having to put on the light colored wig again that Freddie had picked out and sent you. You couldn't tell him what it was for exactly, but you told him it needed to be convincing. And it was.

You'd been wearing it ever since you'd gotten on the road to Manchester, a place you hadn't been to except for on business where this man's club resided. With Alfie, there was always a high probability no matter where he went he'd be recognized, seeing as his orthodox dress, cane and intimidating face with gingery beard and blue eyes was something hard to miss when all in combination. Add his thick accent in and it was easy to identify him. But you, you weren't as well known. People knew you by name, but not by your face. So you had elected to wear something only a mistress would wear, and a light colored wig to disguise yourself further. While on the phone with Freddie, you'd practice your German and the accent when speaking English with it. It'd been many years since you had to speak it and you had to pretend to be someone else tonight and the espionage was reminding you of your old jobs where you would lie, cheat and steal from old rich men. You didn't do as much murdering back then, but times change.

Alfie can see on your face you're in a particular zone. Your eyes cat-like and your posture pin straight as you secured your hair down. You were painted like a doll in a red dress that he would've highly protested against you wearing in public if you were, in fact, going as yourself. But you weren't, and as always, he tried to keep that in mind.

"I 'on't know 'bout you havin' to seduce this monster, Gen." he gruffs out, fully dressed and sitting on the edge of the bed looking at you with his elbows on his knees.

"It's only a job, darling." you say reassuringly, pinning the large earrings to your ears.

"I know 'at." he says with an annoyed sigh. "But why can't you just get him alone in some other way? Business? Ya already pretendin' to be a fuckin' nazi sympathizer, why not just talk shop with him?" he offers.

"Because it adds more hurt to the final product. I get to watch his face as I pull a knife out on him unexpectedly. Get to see that pompous, lustful look disappear from his eyes and see it replaced with fear and confusion. I want him to suffer before he dies. And I plan to use every weapon I have to do that as much as possible given the circumstances." you answer flatly, adjusting your breasts in the low cut dress.

He shakes his head, rolling his eyes and looking away. How was he supposed to argue with the sort of darkness you were channeling to do this job.

"Are you asking because you're jealous?" you question him unexpectedly. "Or is it a matter of principle?"

"I 'on't want his fuckin' hands on ya is what it fuckin' is." he says with a frown, not meeting your reflection as you looked at him in the mirror.

"His hands will not be on Genevieve and especially not Chanah tonight." you say in a softer voice, rising and moving towards him with your hands out. He watches you move, body shimmering in the dress like the red sea as it sauntered towards him. "Up, Ari." you say, tugging both his hands and making him stand. You put your hands to his cheeks. "They are not touching anything that is truly yours. They will be speaking and touching Lena, yes? I will not be kissing him. This I promise you. I have done this so many times, darling. I enjoy it most when I can get up close and personal. Let me enjoy this beyond a single victory for our people. Let me enjoy this as a criminal like you. I take so few of these jobs nowadays, let me fully immerse myself and everyone will reap the rewards. You'll have a happy girl and a successful mission. What more could a gangster want?" you give him a smile, moving your hands to around his back.