|Writing done by KristinGyaru.|
Vic smiled at her boss, stroking his cheek with one heavily painted finger. "At your command," she winked, brushing her face past his as she moved towards him, kissing him.
Then she turned, picking the small Desert Eagle .50 off the table and cocking it.
"Be careful with that Vickie." He said. His voice was deep and gravelly. His name was Kyle - a notable businessman in the criminal underworld, and son to the once-notorious don, who died in a fatal, and almost questionable, car incident of the summer of '09.
"I'm always careful, Ky," she cooed, placing it into her black Gucci bag, clicking her two heels against the floor and promptly walking off. "Before I go, Ky."
"I want a bigger cut. Setting fires and killing people should get me more than what you're selling. It's almost like you're pissing on me, and not even calling it rain." She continued forward, disregarding the obvious argument that Kyle was about to begin. Working as Kyle's right-hand (wo)man had earned her many rewards in the past ten years, such as a no-strings-attatched fling with the man himself and more importantly, a place to stay.
The reason Vic became, what would only be known as the Firestarter, was because her mother and father died in their family home when she was only twelve, in a fire that was an unclosed arson case. In a desperate bid for revenge, Vic turned to the mafia underworld and hence was assigned the title. Firestarter was a fitting name.