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CUT, Forever

CUT, Forever

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Mon, Aug 29, 2016
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Fiction
Romance
"Everybody in this mf wants to be Mulan-Marie. I'm the ultimate fantasy. I'm 5'6, caramel mocha toned with chink eyes and 26 inches of Brazilian hanging down my back. I'm the baddest bitch at King of Diamonds Strip Club and every soul in this city knows it. I'll never want or need for nothing. My daddy taught me a long time ago that the game never stops, players just quit. But I been in the game too long, it's time for me to start running shit." -Milania 'Mulan-Marie' Torres "I'm only gon' tell niggas this ONE TIME ONLY; don't fuck with Rogue. Dese' my streets and I want ere' mf to know it. Miami is my city and ain't nan busta or jit gone get between me and this hurr guap. Know when to HOL' em, fold em and when to shoot ." -Rogue AKA Montana Lewis Milania, AKA Mulan-Marie grew up with nothing due to her mother's chronic heroine addiction and prison ridden daddy, but she wasn't going to let her circumstances become her ending so she started dating an abusive dime bag selling thug that lands her homeless and pregnant. When she meets a girl named Kelle her life changes for the better until she crosses paths with a notorious drug lord that owns half of Miami. Will she let her past never endings mess up her new interests, or will she land herself and child in a dangerous, drama filled lifestyle?
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𝐉𝐚𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐚 I downed a shot of tequila, allowing the burning liquid to slide down my throat and settle in my stomach. I deserved to have some fun without boundaries. I poured a second glass and it disappeared as quickly as the first. Then came the third, fourth and fifth. Still I wasn't satisfied. My landlady was a bitch, I was fired and my boyfriend cheated on me. My nerves were shot to hell! My eyes lazily scanned the nightclub as I consecutively downed my sixth shot for the evening. Life's a bitch. 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐨 𝐆𝐮𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐫𝐨 I sat in the VIP section of the club, a glass of vodka in my hand as I watched the woman several yards away drowning herself in tequila. My lips curled in amusement. The red dress she wore showed a generous amount of cleavage, her ass was ripe and full, begging to be groped. She looked to be eighteen. I wondered what a pretty thing like her was doing in a place like this, drinking like there was no tomorrow. Not that it was any of my business. Women came, got laid and wasted in this nightclub every night. Nothing special to see here. "Muori figlio di puttana." I pulled the trigger on my gun and shot the Mexican in the head after he was caught stealing coke from my warehouse. Blood splattered everywhere, staining the walls and my designer suit. I tucked my gun back in my pocket and left the ally. "He killed a guy!" I shrieked as I turned to run away from there as fast as possible. Just as I was about to run back inside, a large hand clamped around my neck and I was pressed up against a rock solid chest. My jaw was caressed by - a gun!? "Going somewhere piccola?" a deep voice whispered in my ear. "Let me go, you sick twisted bastard!" I growled. "Feisty and a foul mouth. I like it," he chuckled. "You killed someone! I'm calling the cops!" I shouted. "Princess I own the cops," he said, stroking my face, "and now I own you. Say goodbye to your ol

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