06| in da club

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The place smelled like cigarettes and cheap perfume. The air was fogged with all of the smoke that had accumulated from the men's cigars.

The stench made my nose scrunch immediately as I walked in. The lights were dim and the fog made it difficult to see clearly. Once my eyes adjusted, I began the search.

Ricardo Giovanni:
- Male
- 39
- 5'10
-203 lbs
- Dark hair and eyes
- Giovanni's Guard of Arms

Walt Giovanni:
- Male
- 23
- 6'0
- 190
- Light hair
- Brown Eyes
- Giovanni's nephew
- In training

While these two were going to be our main kills for tonight, my freezer always has room for Giovanni himself.

It was unlikely that Giovanni would make an appearance here tonight, even if he did he'd be covered in guards and patrols. That was for another time.

Right now, I had to put all of my focus onto killing two pieces of Giovanni scum. There could be no hesitation, no distractions.

But God, there one one distraction sitting at the bar in front of me. I looked it down, then back up again.

Long, corded legs, a thin but muscular waist, leading to a wide back covered in an expensive suit jacket. Once my eyes finally reached his face, I could see his eyes looking directly at me.

At first, they were looking all over me, wildly. He most likely noticed my outfit. A sleek, satin purple club dress that hugged my slender figure like a second skin.

Then it seemed as if Moretti came back to his senses and gave me a slight disappointed look, like a mother about to discipline their kid.

My phone buzzed in my bra, breaking my stare from his scolding eyes.

I took it out with no shame and saw Moretti facepalm as he watched me retrieve my phone from its very ladylike position. Ignoring him, I opened the message.

Moretti: Stop staring and do what you do best.

Shit. He caught me, huh?

I mentally slapped myself and got to work on finding out where these bastards were.

I figured Walt would be the easier kill, and found a thrill in leaving the best for last. Seems like Ricardo would have to wait.

It wasn't difficult to find Walt. I just looked around to find who it was that was staring at me hard enough to burn a hole through my clothes. Alas, there he was sitting in a booth not too far away, his black eyes burning into me.

They make it too easy sometimes.

I plastered a smirk on my face and walked over towards him, sure to swing my hips as I did so. I knew it worked as I saw his eyes closely follow my movements.

"This seat taken?" I asked, loosely gesturing to the seat in front of him.

"Not if you'd like to sit there," he smiled behind his glass of whiskey. I quickly glanced to the table and saw four other empty glasses.

Good, he's already buzzed.

I sat down and leaned my arms on the table, "accidentally" pushing my chest together. His smirk turned up even more into a real smile, as did my fake one.

I rubbed my foot up and down his leg and gently took the glass from his hands, taking a long sip.

"What's a girl like you doing here?" He asked, his face making him look all too pleased with himself.

I decided to play oblivious. "What do you mean a girl like me?"

He looked excited to say this next part, like it was supposed to make him look cooler. "A little girl like yourself, this is a dangerous place you know."

I felt the coolness and weight of my gun strapped to my inner thigh. "Oh, I know."

_________

Unfortunately, after killing Walt, I needed an outfit change. It was messier than expected. Which I will admit, made me feel better inside. But damnit, I liked this dress.

Plus, I didn't bring a spare dress.

I was in a supply closet in the back of the club with blood splattered all over my dress and exposed chest. Fuck.

I whipped out my phone.

Me: Emergency dress change required in back supply closet.

Moretti: I'll be there.

Me: Good boy ;)

After less than 10 minutes, I heard footsteps come up to the doorway. The door doesn't lock and if it wasn't Moretti I had to be prepared to kill whoever saw Walt Giovanni's blood on me.

I pulled out one of my guns and held it up, ready for whoever was about to come in.

"For fucks sake, Psycho. It's just me." His gruff voice responded when I had my gun pointed at his head.

He tried handing me a new, red dress and leaving but I stopped him.

He looked at me puzzled. "What's wrong?"

"The goddamn door won't lock. I need you to be a good boy and stand guard while I change."

He rolled his steely eyes and nodded, leaning his back against the door.

Knowing he was watching me change made it all the more fun. I slowly slipped off the straps of the purple dress. Watching him try to stop himself from looking at me almost made me laugh. Finally, once my bra was exposed, he let out a struggling breath and turned around to the wall.

I slipped off the purple dress, throwing it over his arm, and slid on the red one.

"Moretti, can you zip me up?"  I asked sweetly, knowing exactly what I was doing.

He turned around and rigidly nodded.

I moved my hair out of his way, exposing my neck and back. I felt his hand brush all the way up my back as he zipped me up and I held back a shiver.

I could feel his body heat behind me. I slowly turned around, and he didn't back up. His stare met mine. Then he looked down at my lips.

What started out as me trying to mess with him is now suffocating me. He was making me feel things. I couldn't hardly breathe.

Then he slowly brushed his pointer finger across my cheek and my heart jumped.

He turned his finger towards me to show it was smeared in blood.

"You missed a spot, Psycho."

____

A/N: unedited cringe

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