My body is fairly large, toned to what some may think of as perfection. My blond hair is cropped short so I don’t have to mess with it. I have tiny scars decorating different parts of my body; but they’re small, so not bad. For the most part, I’d say I look pretty good. My chest swells as I think of how my mother’s kind eyes would look at me if she were here. I know she’d be very pleased with me—her strong boy. I’m no longer a small, scared little one, but a solid man. Yes, she would be proud of her Nikoli. Nodding to myself, my gaze travels lower, fixating on the dark grey weapon secured in the holster at my waist. My mother would not be delighted with that, however.“Blondie?” My self-assessment is interrupted by the quiet, sweet voice coming from a little pixie of a woman, Sabrina. We’ve been friends for many years, and I’ve always cared for her. At first, it was in a big brother, protective sort of way, but over the years as I’ve watched her grow into a stunning young woman, my feelings for her have changed into something much more than a sibling or boyhood crush.
What do You think about Russian Roulette (Russkaya Mafiya)?
