My Secret Mobster Boyfriend

Virgin Mary

Cate had been living under a rock ever since her residency started. There was nothing to gloss over; spare time was rare and, although she loved her work, the busy daily routine and irregular hours started to have a negative effect on her social life. To make up for it, she had promised to take some time for her loved ones this evening - even if all she wanted to was lie in bed and watch a documentary until she would fall asleep after another day of working overtime at the hospital.

However, her roommates, Krystal and Tory, had already been waiting for her return eagerly. They were sharpening their pencils and eyeliners to match Cate's natural style to something club-worthy. And as if all the makeup wasn't enough, they insisted on picking her outfit for the night, too.

It was paradoxical. In the hospital, she had earned a certain reputation. Her colleagues actually valued her opinion. But at home, within her own four walls, she clearly had no say in the matter.

"Are you freaking kidding me?" Cate yelled and gasped at the sight of her reflection. She was wearing a tight-fitting, merlot-colored piece of clothing that barely reached the middle of her tights. "Is this even a dress?"

"You promised to put yourself completely in our hands tonight. And of course, it's a dress," Tory answered, raising an eyebrow. "What else would it be?"

"A half-finished shirt without a back! I did not expect that you would exploit this so shamelessly," Cate replied petrified as she pulled her gaze away from the big mirror. "Where are the damn pants to this thing?"

All this exposed skin made her uncomfortable as hell.

"I knew Cate was going to act like this," Krystal stated, giving Tory an 'I-won-the-bet-glance' as she stuck a strand of her shiny obsidian hair behind her ear.

Tory sighed as she threw her arms in the air. "Fine. I'm paying the first round tonight."

Krystal grinned with satisfaction. It was a rare sight. Known for her poker face, she didn't show many emotions. It didn't quite fit her cool and sophisticated image.

"You should stop the drama, Cate," Krystal told her friend. "You hardly ever go out. The few times you do must at least be worth it. I don't understand why you hate showing off your goodies so much."

"Cause, there are none," Cate murmured with a hint of self-pity.

She was being a little dramatic due to her exhaustion. In return, she received the perfect bitch face from Krystal, making Cate pout.

Tonight, her friend looked like a top-tier model in her strapless golden-green gown, ready to hit the after party of some red-carpet event. Cate didn't doubt the possibility of model scouts trying to get Krystal's number again at the club. Though she looked stunning, Cate just didn't understand why her friend dressed up so modish for an evening at some night club.

Even in jeans and a t-shirt, Krystal could outshine most of the women on the dance floor. Hell, even if she had been dressed in a potato sack and worn a mask on her face, the men would have turned to her to admire her endlessly long legs, which were in perfect shape thanks to a five-times a week drill workout and Pilates classes.

Cate believed that there wasn't a point in putting effort into dressing up. Next to her best friends, she was bound to be overlooked anyway, years of experience being the proof of that.

She stared at herself in the mirror. It wasn't that she was short, but she wasn't tall either; she was slim but not skinny, and her face was rather plain. To sum it up: Cate didn't have Krystal's model body or elegance, or Tory's cute face or seductive hourglass-curves to catch people's attention. She was just normal, average.