P R O L O G U E
They sat across from each other at the old red booth, the two of them, and they were otherwise alone.
The place was dim — amber sconces lined the walls, flickering unevenly and casting the empty dancefloor in what almost looked like firelight. The black-marble bartop sparkled, freshly glossy, but the rows of liquor bottles stacked behind it were blanketed in a thick layer of dust, having been sealed and left untouched for years. Some old rock song played faintly from the belly of the old-fashioned jukebox settled into the junction between wall and counter; the clock over the door ticked in time, perhaps a hair too early or too late when it came to measuring seconds. It read two-thirteen, and judging by the faint whitish glow coming through the window, it was of the late night variety.
"He found one." The five of diamonds landed on the messy heap of cards face-up, its replacement an upside-down one from the pile beside it.
"Mm." Down went the three of clubs, up went an upside-down placeholder.
"Ex-cop. Fired." The seven of hearts for an unknown. "She's young. Angry."
A laugh. A card down, a card up. The clink of glass, a swallow of beer. An electric buzz. "Mm."
"Don't buy it?"
"No." Cards. A brief sputter in the song; the jukebox's colorful halo flickered before it found its footing once more.
"Why not?"
A shuffle. "How'd he find her?"
"Met her at a rally."
"Mm." A yawn. The shuffling of cards being paged through.
"Sounds like you don't want her."
"Sounds like she's a narc." A yawn. Another swallow of beer — a series, this time. The thump of a glass being put down hard onto the table, and then the soft sounds of cards being exchanged. "No, let her come. We could use her."
More cards, and then a beat. "Think you can fix this one?"
"Have I ever not?"
A laugh. A card up, a card down. Another card up, another card down. Another, and another.
A knock on the table, the shuffle of cards being put down.
The king, queen, and six of clubs. Sitting back in his chair, apparently satisfied, Mitchell Manson took a long swig from his whiskey glass and sighed. He was middle-aged, freshly forty-nine with a crop of salt-and-pepper hair that still managed to curl behind his ears and give him the appearance of a rockstar's matured shadow. He wore a loose Def Leppard tee, ink-sleeved arms free; he rubbed his stubbled jaw as his eyes, red and tired, slid upward. The grin on his face was twenty years younger than the rest of him, roguish and charming. "Since when did you start playing for hearts?"
A snicker. Across the table sat his opponent — a woman, younger by a good twenty-some years but just as rough if not moreso. She was some dirty shade of blonde, long hair wild and windblown despite having gotten back from her joyride half an hour prior; she was broad-shouldered and equally ink-spangled, with a dog-tag hanging around her neck that ticked against the table when she tossed down her own hand. An ace, king, and nine of hearts, trumping his hand by a meager three. When she looked up, there was a grin on her face identical to his own — lofty, crude, laughing. "Since I found out how good I was at winning with them."
A groan. Mitchell scoffed; he gestured at her, tipping his drink at the cards. "By three. Margin's not that good."
"But I still win. Every time" She stood, drink in one hand — and despite his insolence, his irritation at losing, Mitchell lifted his glass to clink hers. "Good game."
His eyes narrowed. "Yeah, yeah. So you want her?"
A snicker. Glass tipped back, a thin river of beer running down the side of her inked throat, Logan met her father's eyes — the arrogance of her grin had spread across her whole face, now, and as she put the drink down and wiped her mouth she just laughed, gaze flashing with wolfish thrill. "Sure. Let her come play with me.”
"BABY." by kae leon
GENRES INCLUDED ARE romance (w/w), action (lots of both the mature and regular varieties), drama, mystery...you know, the good stuff
TROPES/THEMES INCLUDED ARE enemies to lovers, cop x criminal, a bit of a heated slow-burn-sort-of, the whole mafia princess thing bc i love capitalizing on wattpad's favorite genre**, partners in crime, fun little mini-tropes like having to share a bed, fake dating, big scary mean masc lesbians if that's a trope, et cetera, et cetera
CONTENT WARNINGS FOR language, sexual content, hard kinks (think guns, knives, et cetera), graphic depictions of violence (including between MC & LI), gore, dubious consent, more sexual content, less-than-healthy relationships, drug use/abuse, non-abusive depictions of mismanaged anger, inclusions of death, immorality of several varieties, and finally a healthy extra dose of sexual content
**UPDATES TO COME weekly!!! i hope!! this is a story being cross-posted on wattpad so both will line up progress-wise at some point :) which probably means ill update here more in the beginning :)
