Pretty Faces Trained to Kill

1 | Baby Girls

Yo, I employee these niggas. They be grown men, but I little boy these niggas. Want the cookie, so I gotta Chips Ahoy these niggas. - Nicki Minaj

New York City, 12:45am

"Put the fucking money in the bag before I blow your brains out," Briyelle said through clenched teeth, with her Beretta 92 pointed at her newest victims' head. He was moving way too slow, and she had a short temper. She had things to do tonight and waiting on him wasn't one. She would rather be sipping on a martini and reading a book, or watching Criminal Minds. She waited, tapping her brown Gucci boots on the black and white marble floor.

"Bitch, stop acting like you're not going to kill him," her twin sister, Yoellie, laughed as she twirled her favorite black, nylon, seal knife around. She had enough of waiting, just as Briyelle. She was sure there was a party waiting for her somewhere. It was late, but she was ready for a turn up after a long work week. Shots of vodka and throwing money to basic hoes, was well deserved at the moment. That would have to wait until business with Greg was done.

Hunting the fool down was the easiest job they'd received. It was nothing like what they were used to. Greg talked so much shit about how he was the toughest thing walking through New York, and he was far from it. Money? He had that, but he was bitch-made. They had no respect for weak, fraudulent guys. He owed big time and payback was a bitch.

He was out clubbing with his boys when the two came up and offered a fun night. They acted as if they were tipsy and eased him away from his boys, who were too preoccupied with stripper goodies dancing in front of them. For him, that meant a threesome. For them, that meant coming across $650,000. He got caught up in Briyelle and Yoellie's soft, brown colored skin; thanks to their Bahamian, Colombian, and African roots, pretty eyes, long hair, double D-cup breasts and phat asses. That caused him to lose his better judgement. A pretty face and a phat ass was a dangerous combination. With Yoellie and Briyelle, it was a lethal weapon; times two.

"Why do you have to take the fun out of this?" Briyelle whined, and turned to face her sister, who was still twirling her knife around with humor in her blue eyes. Yoellie was Miss Up-Close-And-Personal when it came to killing. Briyelle swore her sister was on other shit sometimes.

"You bitches will regret this!" Greg yelled, as he quit stuffing money in the bag. Heavy set and out of shape, he was breathing hard and tired.

"Whoa! He's finally speaking? He was just crying like the little bitch he is." Yoellie stood up and switched her way other to him. He smiled, examining her thick thighs and hips moving. "I got this one," she said, just before connecting her size five, black boot with his mouth. Blood and teeth fell from his mouth as he yelled out incoherent remarks. She took her foot and wiped it on his torn white shirt.

"My sister doesn't like when people refer to us as bitches in that way," Briyelle leaned over, giving his black eyes a full view of her cleavage. "Oh, and she hates when we tell people to do something and they don't." Briyelle added, while stuffing his dingy sock in his mouth. She and Yoellie got to work, filling the backpacks. They didn't have much time before his boys returned to check on him. She knew they'd just burst into the room. Briyelle finished her backpack and helped Yoellie with hers. They were all set with the 650k. Money was a glorious thing.

"Wait! There were some diamonds in the bathroom," Yoellie said, walking into the bathroom. She was careless sometimes and would take her time. If the boys did come in, she would have no problem blasting bullets into all of them.

"YoYo! We have to hurry up!" Briyelle yelled out, rolling her green eyes in frustration. She followed her sister and saw her loading the jewelry into the bag as well. Two minutes later, they heard loud music. "Let's go!" Briyelle took off out of the bathroom. Yoellie followed zipping the bag.

"Kill him!" Briyelle said, as she grabbed her backpack from the living room table.

Yoellie took her gun from her boot and shot him in the head twice and watched his body fall limp. She didn't display, nor feel, any remorse at all. They were soon out the back door just as the boys walked into the front. When they saw their boss on the floor, guns were cocked and searching was done. Two went out back, noticing that the door was open and searched for the ones responsible for the robbery. No such luck.

"Did anyone see who he left with tonight?!" Kendall yelled at the crew. Everyone said no. They were all popping bottles and foaming over big booty strippers. "Fuck! Chance and Chase, clean this shit up!" He ordered, and went to check out the rest of the place.

He would find who did this. He had a few words for them. He could finally take over the crew and get business popping more. Greg wasn't holding up to the game mentally anyways. He was falling off, and it was time a young boss took over. Although he wanted to kill the person responsible for Greg's death, he wanted to congratulate them even more.

Yoellie and Briyelle threw the bags in the back of Briyelle's matte black Range Rover after they made it to the nearby parking garage. The robbery was weak to them. They could've easily stood there and killed everyone that walked through the door. They were into things that required fighting ten or fifteen people at once, gun battles, explosions, and coping millions. This was truly irrelevant and Chresanto would hear about it.

Yoellie hopped onto her black Kawasaki Ninja 1000 and put on her helmet. She waited until her sister pulled off and followed her out into the busy New York traffic. She zoomed past Briyelle doing 90, with her red and black curls flying in the wind. She was ready to get home to freshen up and go out. She needed a drink and a dose of her main boy toy.

Once they made it back to "The Palace", they pulled into the garage and took the bags inside. They walked through the kitchen first, saying hey to their nanny, and made their way upstairs to the office. They walked right in, causing Chresanto to look at them like they were crazy.

"Don't walk in here without knocking," he said, focusing back on the paperwork in front of him.

"Yeah, fuck that," Yoellie said lowly.

"What was that?" Chresanto asked, looking up at her like she'd lost her mind.

"Nothing, Papi," She said, dropping her backpack down on the floor. She was her father's biggest headache. "What's our cut?" She asked, to clarify his pricing didn't change.

"I already told you. You get 200k a piece," he responded, getting up and grabbing the backpack off the floor and the one from Briyelle.

"I need my jewelry out of there," Yoellie stated, opening the bag as he placed it on the desk. She grabbed the bag of jewelry out quickly before he got to protest.

"What's that for?" He asked, as she walked out ignoring him. He wanted to strangle her sometimes. She stayed pressing his buttons.

"She took jewelry she saw laying around," Briyelle answered her father's question, "you know how she is."

"Just like your mother," he responded shaking his head. "She's stubborn, headstrong, and always has to have her way."

"Deep down inside, you love her, Daddy," Briyelle laughed.

"No doubt about that, BriBri. She's just tough to deal with." He rubbed his hand through his short, curly, black hair and looked at his daughter with a softness in his blue eyes.

"You know what she went through. She feels like she has to be tough so nothing else is taken away from her. Just talk to her. You don't do much of that, unless it's concerning work. And speaking of, Daddy, this was featherweight work. I'm starting to think you're thinking lowly of us."

"You girls are great at what you do, but you're still my baby girls. I don't want to lose my baby girls..." He kissed her forehead. She smiled and headed to her room. She let her daddy run the money through the counter alone tonight, and waited for the deposit in the morning.