The revolver in my hand clicked as I snapped the barrel in place, fully loaded.
My gloved hand traced the shiny metal, admiring how such a small device could instill so much fear, a little click and you'll have anyone at your mercy.
"Jane please. I swear, I'll pay you right now!" The man begged.
"You've stressed me today. Have you no manners?" I asked.
My eyes bore into him, taking in his disheveled state.
"Jane.. I swear…"
I tutted and shook my head, shutting him up
"You shouldn't swear, dear. Let's wrap this up, yeah?" I stepped closer, the sweet click of my heels making me happy.
I chose a white body con knee-length dress today and a brown fur coat, I hope I don't get stained today.
"I'll throw in an extra fifty, please."
I traced his face with the nuzzle of my gun, his cheeks shook as he swallowed loudly.
"Say ah," I instructed the man.
"Jane ple..."
I shoved the gun into his mouth.
"You talk too much. Jesus Christ."
The fear in his eyes spurred me on, even as I unlocked the safety.
Warm blood dripped down my face, to my white gown and my fur. It was the last one in stock. I knew I made a bad fashion call today.
Isaac handed me a black handkerchief and took the gun from me while I wiped my face.
My phone went off with message alerts, a smile tugged at the corner of my lips. Of course all these creditors needed was one example. Just one.
"Let's go home," I murmured and walked out while my men cleaned up the mess I made.
I need to get high.
"I need a blunt," I told Isaac.
He quickly sent some instructions as I was excorted into my car.
By the time I was home, naked and laying on my silk sheets, with a glass of my favorite whiskey and a rolled up Canadian weed, I had totally calmed down.
I hummed as my finger traced my lips, spreading my wetness as I flicked my clit.
"Mmm," I blew puffs of smoke through the side of my mouth as the blunt hung between my lips.
I circled my clit, and dipped into my pussy with the tip of my finger.
I dropped the glass of whiskey on my bedside table and picked up my phone. Connecting it to the inbuilt speaker in my room, my eyes closed in pleasure as Rihanna's Desperado came on.
My release came by the time I'd finished my smoke and downed the last of my whiskey. My back arched off the bed as laboured breaths fell from my lips.
With slightly unstable legs, I went to clean up and fell into a peaceful sleep when I returned to my bed.
The next day had me on a black women's suit. The cleavage dipped, revealing my smooth chest and buttoned just above my stomach. The pants were tailored to fit me and the six inch black stilettos I rocked with it made me feel beautiful.
I chose a simple bun, holding my curls in a messy bun and my face almost bare, save for black mascara and a deep red lip stain—you can never go wrong with those two.
I walked the huge halls of my house, reveling in the silence of my environment, save for the soft tap of paws coming down the hall, towards me.
My girls, a German shepherd and a Great Dane padded softly to me and stared at me.
This two will always be loyal.
I lifted my palm and they came closer, allowing me to caress their silky furs amd scratch their heads.
"Hi girls," I murmured and kissed their heads.
"Go," I ordered softly and watched them walk away from me.
I walked down the spiral stairs and saw Isaac, sharp as a knife, standing at the end of the stairs, with a coat and a shot of my whiskey in one hand.
"Boss," he inclined his head at me and handed me the whiskey.
I took the swirling liquid with a hum and threw the whiskey back and the familiar burn washed down my throat.
"You got another one?" I eyed the coat, the same one as my brown one I messed up.
"Let's say I threw a few cash and threats here and there," he chuckled as he draped it on me.
I hummed again and gave him my handbag.
The look on his face was beginning to nag me, Isaac could never hid anything from me if he tried.
"Out with it, Isaac," I said after he was done fussing over me.
His eyes snapped up to mine, those same eyes I'd come to trust.
"Arthur is outside," he said softly, his hands on my shoulders.
My blood ran cold.
"And?" I asked.
Isaac sighed and dropped his hand.
"Just don't kill him. We don't want that kind of problem on our hands," he warned.
I rolled my eyes and walked around him.
He walked behind me as we both headed for the entrance. When one of my security personnel's opened the door for me, I grabbed the Beretta from his holster and unlocled the safety.
"Jane," Isaac warned behind me.
I ignored him. My blood boiled at the sight of the bastard.
Ten long years. That's how long I've wanted him dead but the bastard has remained untouchable. Now he leaned on my favorite car, without a care in the world, a cigar tucked into his lips and his legs crossed while his security team surrounded him.
A smile curved his lips as he sighted me.
"Hi baby!", he spread his arms wide after taking the cigar from his mouth and giving it to one of his goons.
I aimed and shot him, a satisfied feeling settling in at the sound of his pained scream and the way he doubled over and clutched his bloodied arm.
His men drew their weapons the same time mine drew theirs, the sound of the safeties of guns comming off filled the air.
"Fuck! Don't! Not one hair on her head!" He screamed at his men and hesitantly they dropped their arms, while mine still stayed aimed at them.
"You grew a pair," he gritted at me.
I tilted my head at him, analyzing the full beard he had on, contrary to what I know him with.
"I don't miss a shot and I have a case of itchy fingers."
I warned and cocked the gun again.
He raised his hands.
"Talk. Let's talk," he suggested.
Bang!
This one was lodged in his shoulder, the shoulder of the same arm I shot earlier.
"Fucking hell! Son of a fucking!!..." He screamed.
His men looked between the two of us, uncertainty marring their expressions.
"A few centimeters more and you'll have a hole in your heart," my voice came out soft and steady as I cocked the gun again.
I could see Isaac's stance beside me, he was ready to snatch the gun from me. I don't blame him.
Nobody wanted to be the one that killed the most feared arms dealer in the whole of South East. That kind of trouble is not one that anyone wants but right now, I don't care.
"You will calm the fuck down, and we will have that talk," he said matter of fact.
My finger started squeezing the trigger.
"Jane," Isaac snipped.
Arthur's eyes zeroed in on my finger and he took many steps back, his men following him.
I eased the pressure on the trigger as they backed out of my compound.
"Who let him in?" I asked calmly.
A man stepped forward, his movements fidgety and uncertain.
"When I knew who he was…" he stammered.
"You should be more afraid of me," I hummed and pulled the trigger.
The bullet lodged inside his forehead as his eyes widened in death.
"The next person's family will be joining them."
The gun clattered to the ground and I started for my car.
"I need a fucking Xanax and a bottle," I snipped as Isaac opened the door for me.
All he did was nod and drop my handbag beside my feet after he helped me up.
Curse Arthur Kane.