Dance Till I Die (gxg) ✓

"Motherfucker"

MAVIS

        "I hope you fuck yourself and your mother." 

        Mavis bit at the rope shoved into her mouth, thrashing against the thick ties that restrained her to the kitchen counter.

        The men sitting at the table, smoking and playing poker, only chuckled among themselves.

        "My mother is dead," said one of them.

       "Then I hope you fuck her in her grave, tu puta madre."

       "Maybe I'll fuck you instead," another muttered.

        "Come a little fucking closer and I'll fuck you up!" 

        Honestly, Mavis was running out of insults. She hoped Ace would get here soon.

        A day―Mavis had been here for what felt like a day. She'd woken up on this kitchen counter, like a piece of meat to be admired, and spent her time swearing at the mobsters nearby.

        The truth was, Mavis felt terrified. 

        What would it be like, seeing Evan Powell after seven years?

        He had been her first love. She had loved him and―

        He had been the first one to hit her. Her stomach. He had never cared about Isla, about Mavis, so why start now? Why not make another fucking heir? 

        Why now?  Why Isla?

        And Mavis . . . didn't know how she would react. How she would feel at the sight of Evan.

        More than that, she was scared she would freeze. That she wouldn't know what to do―say.

        Please, Ace. Wherever you are . . . hurry. 

        Mavis didn't know when it had gotten to the point where she trusted Ace like this. Wholeheartedly, without reason, without logic. 

        But she knew Ace would come for her. 

        Would kill everyone in her way.

        Now, Mavis was left wondering when that had become so romantic to her.

        "Finally! The bitch shut up."

         A chorus of laughter erupted over the poker table.

        Mavis narrowed her eyes. She recognized some of them―friends of Evan's, back when they had been teenagers. Kids, really.

        The Mafia.

        She should have guessed. Realized―Evan's family didn't run the oil industry, but the mob.

        But she had only been fifteen then. 

        Now, she was twenty-one.

        And she'd be damned if Evan got her or Isla.

        She had spent these past seven years working her ass off to make ends meet. And Evan wanted Isla now? He wanted her to be the boss of the American Mafia one day?

        No, he could fuck himself and his mother.

        Mavis would die before she let him have her.