After 8 generations the American mafia finally had birthed not just one but two girls.
Demontre and Angelica Smith along with their triplet brother were the hearts of the American and the Italian mafia.
Suddenly their hearts were shattered when th...
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*tw* mentions of suicide
"Are you going to jump off this building?" A deep voice questioned after opening the iron door on the roof of the building where I was currently sitting on the building ledge swinging my legs while looking out at the sky.
"No, I'm not suicidal," I snickered with an eye roll.
Well at least I don't think I am? Shrugging my shoulders, I pick up the glass bottle to my right that's tucked in a brown paper bag taking a swing of the bitter yet sweet amber liquid.
Hearing the strangers' steps walk closer to me I guess I should turn around and see who's coming. See if they have a weapon,? I mean they could quite literally push me to my death that's what any normal person would do.
I'm far from normal. I'm a child of abuse who has the intellect that surpasses people triple my age and has the whole underworld bowing to my feet. Normal and Angelica Smith don't belong in the same sentence, chuckling to myself I continue to drink my bourbon. I don't care about strangers... let him do his worst.
Hmm maybe I am suicidal?
Laying down on the hard concrete floor, my feet still dangling on the edge I closed my eyes enjoying the crisp bitter New York air that was brushing my skin. "Wow hasn't even looked at me to see if I'm a serial killer?" The stranger's voice said with some uneasiness.
"Do your worst," I replied with a wave of my hand.
"And you're not suicidal?" Laughing at his reply I heard him make a light inhale as I felt a little bit of his body heat as he laid right next to me. "So, my not suicidal gal, what praytal brings you to one of the tallest buildings in New York... at night... with liquor."
"Was just in a silly goofy mood I guess."
Snorting at my reply, he sighed as the two of us fell into a comfortable silence. Opening my eyes, I carefully turned my body, so I was laying on my side facing the stranger.
Even though he can feel my eyes on him he stayed laying down focusing on the city skyline. Giving me the chance to stare at his side profile and God damn it one sculpted by Michelangelo. "You know its rude to stare," he muttered not taking his eyes off the sky.
Rolling my eyes, I sat back up this time bringing my knees in, so I was sitting cris cross applesauce, "so why are you here?"
"Was in a silly goofy mood," he laughed and gosh darn it was such a beautiful laugh. The kind of laugh that honestly should be studied in schools on how one can sound so angelic yet deadly. "In all seriousness I had a fight with my boss, they do some slick shit I don't agree with. They want me to do the same, I'm just not with it."
Getting up he turned his body, and I followed suit, so we were both sitting crisscross applesauce across from each other. Thank God I've been mafia training. It was easy to keep my face blank but, on the inside, I was freaking out about how hot this man sitting in front of me is.
