Kingpin Wifeys Volume -1-3

by K Elliott

  KINGPIN WIFEYS BOX SET VOL. 1

  SERIES 1-3

  By K. Elliott

  KINGPIN WIFEYS BOX SET

  VOL I

  Kingpin Wifeys Part 1

  Kingpin Wifeys Part 2

  Kingpin Wifeys Part 3

  Copyright 2013 by K. Elliott. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission. For information, address Urban Lifestyle Press, P.O. Box 12714 Charlotte, NC 28220 https://www.kelliottonline.com

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  April 2013

  Kingpin Wifeys Part 1

  Table of Content

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 1

  Starr answered the blocked call, "Hello."

  There was some deep breathing, followed by silence.

  "Who the fuck is this, and why are you playing fucking games on my phone?"

  More breathing.

  She hung up.

  The blocked number called again.

  "I'm going to call the fucking police if you call my phone again!" She terminated the call.

  Seconds later she received a text from a number she didn't recognize-a 973 area code. The text said: Calling the cops would be bad for business. I don't think your man would like that.

  Starr dialed the number. A recording said that the number was no longer in service. Weird.

  She called Trey.

  He didn't answer. She called him three more times. Finally he picked up.

  "Hey babe."

  "Hey babe my ass, you need to come home and come now."

  "What's wrong? Are the police there?"

  "No, the police are not here, Trey. Do you think I would ask you to come home if the police was here? Nobody is trying to set you up."

  "I'm just saying whenever you're like come home and come home now, I think the worse."

  Starr and Trey had been together for eight years. She met him when she was 21 and he was 31. She had been working at a cell phone store in the hood, and she noticed that he would always pull up in a different car, and he would change his cell phone every two weeks. Starr was a hood chick and she prided herself in having street smarts. She knew Trey was a baller; more importantly he wasn't cheap. When he would buy his phones, he'd always give her an extra hundred dollars. He said it was for being so cute.

  She thought he was handsome, but she never thought she was his type until one day.

  "When are you going to go out with me?"

  "When are you going to ask?"

  Trey took her out that same night and when he dropped her off, he met her father, Ace, a 46-year-old ex con, who had done twelve years for moving weight. Ace approached the car and said, "Nigga, if you going to be dropping my daughter off, at least let me know who the fuck you are."

  Then Trey introduced himself and called Ace, Sir.

  "Kill that Sir bullshit!" Ace had demanded. From that day on, they had been good. Trey looked up to Ace like a father, and Ace would give him advice about the game. Ace didn't care if Trey was hustling but had warned him that the day he put his hands on his daughter would be the day that Trey died. Although Trey was no punk, he believed that Ace would in fact try to kill him, but he'd never hit a woman in his life.

  Nine months later Starr moved in with Trey, and they had been together ever since.

  "I'll be there in a couple of hours."

  "Trey, come home now."

  "In thirty minutes, I'm handling something."

  She hung up the phone and called her girlfriend, Lani.

  "Hey!"

  "Yo, that blocked number called again."

  Lani said, "Girl, you lying."

  "I'm serious, girl, and the same thing happened like before, they were breathing hard and shit. I said I was going to call the police and I hung up. Seconds later I got a text and the text said that they knew I wasn't going to call the police, because it was bad for my man's business."

  "Really?"

  "Yes."

  "Girl, this shit is getting weird."

  "I know and I'm scared."

  "Why?"

  "I was just thinking it might be the Feds."

  "No way."

  "Why don't you think it's the Feds?"

  "You think the Feds are going to call you and text you?"

  "I guess you're right. Anyways, I don't want to talk about it anymore, at least not over the phone. Let's get together tomorrow for a mani and pedi, okay?

  How about going to Jada's?"

  Starr sighed, "Oh Lord, not the wannabe model."

  "She's cool. Give her a chance."

  "Your girl is as fake as that silicone ass she got. Talking 'bout how she's been doing squats, yeah right. Squats will not make your ass grow like that in one month. She got ass injections and she knows it."

  Lani laughed, "Let that chile' think we believe that."

  "Whatever."

  When Starr hung up the phone, she heard Trey's Range Rover pull into the garage. Seconds later he entered the house with a Louis Vuitton duffel bag draped over his shoulder. He sat the bag on the floor and said "Count what's in the bag in the morning."

  Trey wrapped his arms around her waist and said "Goddamn, baby. Why you looking so damn good?. Why are you dressed up?"

  Starr had forgotten she'd gotten dressed up. She had forgotten that she wanted to go to dinner with Trey. The anonymous caller was still on her mind.

  Trey licked his lips and said, "It's going to be hard to talk about anything with that dress on." Starr knew the dress was a winner. She'd gotten it from a local designer, Acquan, who only made one piece per design. The dress was long and clung to her ass and it was backless. Starr's hair was up in a bun, her face revealed stunning cheekbones. She was average height and her curvy figure made men drool.

  "Let's talk."

  "Okay."

  She sat at the kitchen table and he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge before sitting down across from her.

  "What's up?"

  "Been getting those weird phone calls again."

  "Blocked numbers?"

  "Yeah."

  "I keep telling you to change your number."

  "I ain't changing my number Trey."

  "Well what the fuck are we talking about this for then? What do you want me to do about it?"

  "Trey, will you just shut up and listen?"

  He sat quiet.

  "Today I got a call, and I told them I was going to call the police. When I hung up the phone, I got a text."

  Trey's eyes grew. "A text? What did it say?"

  She passed him the phone. "It's the number that starts with 973." Trey read the text.

  "Did you call the number back?"

  "The phone was disconnected."

  "Probably one of your jealous-ass friends, Ssomebody that you've put in our business."

  "Trey, you know I don't talk and I don't brag."

  "You don't have to talk. Posting pictures of our crib, cars and shit on Facebook and Instagram. You know motherfuckers be hating. I don't know why you keep doing tha
t dumb shit."

  "Trey, I got my salon. I am a legitimate business owner."

  "A salon that you don't ever run, you haven't been to the salon in eight months."

  "What are you saying?"

  "Look, babe, I'm just saying people get jealous and they play games."

  "You think that's what this is?"

  "I know how haters think. They want to make you feel as uncomfortable as possible."

  "I guess you're right." She stood and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge then she picked up the bag and was about to head upstairs, but she turned to him and said, "But they said that the police wouldn't be good for your business. Hate is one thing but it's like this is a threat."

  He walked over to her and she put her head in his chest. She liked when her head was against his chest. He was about a foot taller than her, and she liked that he made her feel small. He said, "Baby, nothing is going to happen to us."

  He'd said that many times before, but he wasn't the corner hustler that she'd met many years ago. She had helped him count millions of dollars in cash and it was all his. She was nervous.

  Chapter 2

  Lani pulled her BMW X6 into the gas station parking lot. A car behind her flicked its lights to get her attention. It was her ex-boyfriend, Black. She sat in the car with the heat blowing. It was freezing outside and the road was icy. She sure as hell knew that Black didn't want her to get out of the car to talk to him.

  Black was just below six feet with a clean face except for a mustache. He was a well-built man with dreadlocks. He hopped in the passenger side of the car.

  "Where you headed?" he asked.

  "I'm headed home, and you?"

  "Just left the South Side. You know, been working."

  Lani knew what Black meant by working-he was a weed dealer. She'd known this man for 5 years and he sure as hell didn't have a real job, nor did he plan to get one. But that was okay with her. She liked men with money and didn't give a damn how they got it. Her new man dealt drugs,drugs and she was okay with that as well.

  He tried to rub her hand, but she pushed his hand away.

  "What's your problem?" Black asked.

  "Black, you know I got a man now."

  Black frowned, "How the fuck are you going to treat me like this? We've been knowing each other for years."

  Lani turned her heat down and licked her lips. She was trying not to be angry. She didn't want to be in a bad mood when she got home. "Black, what part of 'I have a man' don't you understand?"

  "I got it, but all I'm saying is we got history. I'm the one that moved your mom outta the projects. Paid for your brother's funeral cuz he didn't have insurance."

  A tear trickled down her face because she felt indebted to Black, and she did care a lot for him, but she had a man now. She turned her head away, stared out the window for a second, thenand then she faced him again. "You know Black, I love you and I always will, but I have a man."

  "Hey, I understand, but you don't have to treat me like I don't matter."

  "Stop it Black, stop trying to make me feel guilty, when it was you that fucked up! You went out and had not one, but two babies with two different bitches."

  "Oh like you were perfect. You cheated on me too. You fucked O. Remember that?."

  "Yeah I fucked him and I admitted to it, but I only did it because you had bitches running up there to see you in jail. Nigga, I was faithful to you until you fucked up."

  He reached for her hand again, this time she didn't push it away. Their eyes met and held. He said, "You were the best thing that ever happened to me, and I want you to be my wife. I want us to be together."

  "You know I can't leave my man. He treats me so well."

  "Does he love you though?"

  "Yes."

  "Cuz he buys you shit don't mean he loves you. The same shit you got from him, you can get from me and you'll get it with love."

  "Black, look, we're friends and we'll always be friends."

  Black said, "I can't be your friend. I just can't. I love you."

  "I gotta go, Black."

  He hopped out of her car.

  "Goodbye, Black."

  He didn't respond, instead in he hopped back into his car. She watched his white Porsche whizz out of the parking lot.

  Chapter 3

  Dr. Craig Matthews sipped a caramel latte as he sat in the back of Starbucks. He glanced at his watch. She was ten minutes late, he thought. He was checking his watch again for the third time in less than two minutes when she approached. She was a tall, gorgeous, black woman. He smiled bright then stood and hugged her and gave her a peck on the cheek.

  He said, "What took you so long?"

  "I had to do something for my mom. It took longer than I expected."

  "Oh. Glad you came."

  "Of course."

  "You look amazing," Dr. Matthews said.

  His eyes glued to her, lusting after her very tiny waist and nice backside. A yellow and blue Gucci scarf draped her kissable neck. With teeth that were nice and beautiful, she was almost perfect. Her chin was a little off but he could fix that. He, after all, was the best cosmetic surgeon in Atlanta.

  "I've been better, but I'm okay."

  "How is the husband?"

  "First of all I'm not married and how the fuck is your wife?" She tried to be polite and respectful with him, but sometimes she had to get ghetto with him and he seemed to respond well to it.

  "Well, how is his business going?"

  "Wait a fuckin' minute Craig, can you kill the sarcasm?. I mean everybody didn't have the money to go to med school like you, so don't fucking judge nobody. Don't say shit when I'm paying you with cash."

  Craig was quiet for a moment, then said, "I just think you deserve better."

  Jada was visibly irritated and she said, "And your wife deserves better than your cheating ass!"

  "You leave my wife out of this!"

  "And you leave my man out of this shit! What he does is his fucking business and don't you forget that."

  His face and his eyes became sad. "I just don't want you to get caught up in his bullshit."

  She was quiet for a moment wondering how their relationship had grown to the point where she could talk to him about her man's business. Why did she trust him so much?

  "I'm sorry."

  "It's okay, I know you're right and I think about what ifs, all the time, but I just don't know what else I can do. I mean I'm thirty years old, and I don't have an education, so I don't know what I can do for money if something ever happened, or if I was to leave him."

  "I've always offered to take care of you."

  She laughed and said, "I guess I could be your poor little black mistress. Is that what you want, Craig?"

  "No. Well yes, but you don't have to put it that way."

  "But then I'm back to square one, I still won't have anything of my own, I would still be counting on you to take care of me."

  "But I earn legal money and business has just doubled. I am the best cosmetic surgeon in Atlanta."

  She laughed, "Of course that's why I came to you. I wanted you to make me perfecto."

  "You are perfect, you've always been perfect."

  "Ahhh thank you. But I think I want my nose done next."

  "Not by me. Really it's perfect."

  She made a sad face.

  "Thank you."

  "So what does your man say when you say you want your nose done?"

  "He says plastic surgery is for white bitches."

  "His exact words?"

  "Yeah but he loved my butt job."

  Craig laughed. "I bet. I'm the best at what I do."

  "But you're expensive as hell."

  "Hey pay me, or pay some tranny from Craigslist to pump some super glue in your ass."

  "I guess you're right."

  "Hey! My services ain't for the poor. But hell, your boyfriend ain't poor."

  "Well he's doing okay."

  "Must be. He a
lways pays with cash. I hated counting all that cash."

  "That's what you got employees for."

  "Yeah but if they count it, they would have to report the transaction to the IRS."

  "Really?"

  "Yeah anything over 5 thousand has to get reported and believe me, you don't want those problems. I don't want those problems."

  Her eyes met his eyes and she realized she liked him a lot. She didn't think he would ever do anything to hurt her. He was one of the few white men that she liked and somewhat trusted, and she thought he liked her, but it was getting a little scary. He wanted her to be his mistress. Was he serious? But she knew that if Shamari found out she was creeping with a white man, it could become ugly. Deadly serious. She had to be careful.

  Her phone rang. She put her finger to her mouth. "Ssssh," she told Craig.

  "Hello."

  "What time you coming home babe?" Shamari asked?

  "On my way back now."

  "Stop at Chic-Fil-A and get me a number one with lemonade."

  "Okay." She stood and terminated the call and hugged Craig.

  Craig said, "So when can we meet again?"

  She shrugged.

  "I think we should go to Vegas again."

  "You know I can't get away again. You know he was out of the country the last time."

  "Hell let's send him to Brazil."

  She laughed.

  "I want to see you again."

  She looked at Craig, knowing this man liked her. He didn't love her. She couldn't leave Shamari to be his mistress. Though she'd fucked Craig a few times, she didn't know if she could really be with him. She didn't know if she could be with any white man or any legitimate man for that matter. She liked what she liked and she liked bad boys.

  Shamari was a tall, lanky light-complexioned man with a light beard. He planted a kiss on Jada's face when she came through the garage into the kitchen. His best friend Duke and a stranger, wearing a polo shirt exposing a tattoo sleeve, were sitting with him.

  She hugged Duke, who was a tall muscular man with a pencil mustache and razor bumps. He'd been Shamari's best friend since they were kids.

  "Jada," she said to the other man.

  "I'm Tony."

  "Tony, do you have a last name?"

  "Tony Montana," the stranger said.

  Shamari and Duke laughed.

  Shamari said, "Babe, why so nosey?" Shamari always accused her of being nosey.