Arabella Malik, the lethal American mob boss's daughter.
The beauty of the nineteen-year-old was well-known. Her hourglass figure and glowing grey eyes-which mirrored her father's, had practically everyone praising the ground she walked on.
Arabella...
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✰ Ａｒａｂｅｌｌａ ✰
"𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞"
My eyes widened.
How hadn't I thought of that before?
Clearly, this gang has a problem with Roman, but also with me. Assuming on the number of times they've tried to kill me.
Roman clenched his jaw angrily, his eyes rolling and he motioned for me to kill him. I grinned, feeling Roman walk away as my fingers pulled off the safety.
The man's eyes widened—crying and pleading for me to let him go. Calling me such names—that I was sort of disappointed Roman couldn't hear them—as I would most definitely know if Roman did hear the names, this man wouldn't have the privilege of dying tonight.
My hands came in front of my body, aiming the gun right towards his temple. He thrashed around, making this slightly more difficult—though nothing I couldn't accomplish.
Looking the tortured male in the eyes, my fingers loop around the trigger as it was pulled on sight.
All traces of his screaming and crying was cut off immediately, his limbs were flat on the ground—lifeless.
I nodded my head in approval, feeling the adrenaline run through my veins—I skipped back over to Roman, who was nowhere to be seen from my sight.
Frowning, I turn towards one of the guards. "Where is he?" I asked, curiously. The man raised his head, his black eyes blazing into mine, almost sending shivers down my spine.
"The back." He said darkly, indicating towards a door beside him. I smiled and thanked him as I moved to the door.
Cool air welcomed my skin as I unlatched the handle. My eyes scoured the open space for him—on what appeared to be a rooftop.
Strolling across the rooftop, I found him sitting up against a railing. A cigarette was between his lips, making me a tad concerned as to how many he consumed an hour.
His eyes caught mine from across the roof, piercing them with their deadly intensity. The phone held to his ear was quickly withdrawn before he looked down at it and motioned me over with two of his tatted fingers.
I crossed the rooftop and came to a halt immediately in front of him; his eyes were drawn away from the device and towards me.
His hands came under my arms; he lifted me up swiftly and placed me beside him on the railing.
My heart pounded while my eyes widened. I clutched onto his arm tightly as I glanced below us.
