Cruel Capone

Whitney's POV

I returned to New York after five years living in L.A. Nothing has changed since I left here, the buildings, streets, and people were just as I left them. Glancing at myself in the mirror for one last time. I was wearing a silver dress that sparkled in the daylight, and a white fluffy short coat with heels that were a bit too high. I looked like a hooker, but it would all be worth it when I accomplished my mission.

My phone buzzed, and I quickly dug it out of my handbag. Ashley's name popped up on my phone. Without hesitation, I answered, "I'm on my way. Don't get your panties in a twist." I said as I grabbed my bag and keys.

"Bitch, you had to be here fifteen minutes ago. If I end up in jail today for murder, it would be on your hands." Her voice was laced with annoyance.

I couldn't stop my laughter from escaping. "Dude, calm down. I'm staying a block away from the plaza. I will be there in just a few to save you." I made my way into the elevator and pressed the button for the ground floor. "It took me a while to find the perfect outfit."

"I can't wait to see what you decided to wear. But please just hurry. This woman is driving me nuts." She let out a sigh.

"Yeah, yeah. See you in a few, bye." Disconnecting the call, I threw my phone into my bag and stepped out of the elevator.

Time to save my best friend from her evil mother-in-law. My honest opinion, I have no idea how she puts up with that woman. But she does, for the sake of her love for her soon-to-be husband, Andy. How he survived with her for his entire life, only he would know the secret of not wanting to kill her himself.

As I made my way down the street towards the plaza, prying eyes were on me the entire way. My dress shimmered in the sunlight, and my purple and pink hair was as vibrant as when I first coloured it. Don't blame the people for staring, I did, in fact, look like I was on my way to stand on a corner and earn a living. Little did they know I was a successful plastic surgeon.

If only they knew why I was dressed like this, they would laugh and encourage me. But I knew well enough that New York was full of judgmental people and wouldn't want to hear your reasons. I never did care what people thought of me, especially when I decided to dye my hair two different colors. As a surgeon, it raises eyebrows, but it also makes my clients comfortable when they want to change their appearance. I loved my job, don't get me wrong. But sometimes it gets too much. So many people want to change their looks, I didn't mind, though; it paid my