Everywhere you went, word was out that Le Weaponarê was in America. The French were glad that the notorious monster was out of their land and deemed it a blessing. The news was buzzing about him and the FBI started their manhunt.
I clicked off the news and walked to James' room.
"You're a success." I declared.
He groaned and rolled over ignoring me. I opened the curtains and jumped on his bed.
"I said you are a success. In times like these it is common to accept a compliment with a thank you."
He turned to me with a blank face.
"Maybe that's the way you Frenchies do it but in America, we say fuck you and move on."
I laughed at this and tore the covers off him. He was sleeping in pink boxers with red hearts all over them.
"No!" I gasped. Immediately, I pulled out my phone and sent a picture to Dominic.
"How can the most badass French boss wear these cute boxers?" I snorted in his face.
He threw a pillow and me at yelled "fuck off."
YOU ARE READING
Delicate Dahlia
ActionHero's and their journeys. That's what you want to read right? How about an innocent girl gets involved with the mob? It's not that either. It's something you have to read to understand.
