"The Gentlemanly Mobsters"

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MAVIS


                  Robin winced. "That had to hurt."

                  "Twenty dollars," Isla said. "Ace is going to win."

                  "Fifty dollars," Robin countered. "The vampire queen is going to slit the blonde bitch's throat."

                   "Stop betting on my wife!" Mavis snapped.

                   "One hundred dollars," Isla declared. "Ace is going to have her on the ground in less than one minute flat. Death by strangulation."

                   Mavis choked. "Baby, you're not supposed to bet on other people's deaths!"

                   A crack of bone against pavement. Ace straddled Galina, her side profile sharp and determined, framed by her pale gold hair. Her slender hands tightened over Galina's neck, as heat―pure and carnal―darkened her face. She looked like unholy wrath, and she was beautiful.

                   "Three hundred dollars," Mavis said. "My wife will finish this in forty-five seconds."

                    Robin frowned. "What happened to―"

                    "Knock her out!" Mavis shouted. "I believe in you, blondie!" 

                     From somewhere in the country club, someone pointed to the fight in the parking lot. Before Mavis realized, there were people beginning to gather―men milling around in those fancy suits, watching the two blondes roll over on the concrete.

                     "Chick fight," said one man. Mr. Pierson. "It's a chick fight." 

                     Mavis swiveled around. But before she could focus on him, another man added, "You go, blondie!"

                     Something like cold determination crystallized in Mavis's veins.

                     She had no idea how to use a gun.

                     But as she connected it with the side of the man's face, she said, "Nobody calls my wife blondie but me."

                     Behind her, Isla cheered.

                     Mavis turned back around. It was clear Galina was an equal match for Ace. With a hard strike to Ace's face, Galina grinned sharply. Wickedly. Speaking in Russian, spitting something like a taunt.

                     "Tvoya zhena - shlyukha."

                     Whatever it was, it seemed to enrage Ace.

                     It was over in less than thirty seconds after that.

                     Ace's slender hands cupped Galina's face, almost as though she was about to kiss her. Galina's pale eyes widened, and in that heartbeat, Mavis could tell that she knew. She knew what would come next―she knew it was the end. 

                     Ace snapped her neck, jerking her pretty head to the side, and Galina went limp.

                     Mavis should have regretted it. She should have run away in horror. When Ace let Galina's body slide to the ground of the parking lot, there was only white, breathless rage on her face. Mavis should have tried to get as far away as possible from her.

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