The End of Part One
Episode Two
Amelia
1
The leather desk chair I’m sitting in gets spun around violently. For a split second, I think I have whiplash until I’m staring down the barrel of a Glock. Then my neck is the least of my worries.
“Jesus! Fuck, Amelia! What the fuck are you doing here? I almost fucking shot you!” Mad yells as he lowers his gun and wipes the sweat from his forehead.
My heart pounds uncontrollably. “I’m sorry. I thought I’d come by to check on you. What’s going on? I haven’t seen you this jumpy in years.” I stand from the chair, too anxious to sit any longer. “Is everything okay? Harper said there was a problem at work.”
He places his gun back in its holster. “There is a problem. A big fucking problem. A 750 thousand dollar problem.”
I close the distance between us, wrapping my arms around him. When I rest my head against his chest, I can hear his heart pounding away. “Your heart is going crazy.”
“Of course it is. I almost fucking shot you,” he croaks. Placing his hands on either side of my face, he tilts my head back to look at me. “Don’t fucking do that to me ever again. You hear me? I don’t know what I’d do if I ever fucking hurt you.” He brings his lips to mine and plants a long, slow kiss against them.
It’s moments like these that really proves he loves me.
I’m sure you’re probably asking how can you even believe that after all the women he fucks?
I learned long ago that no one woman would ever be enough to satisfy Madden Novelli — back when we were first married, and I found him nailing his secretary in the office I decorated. Though part of me hates the memory, I can’t keep my mind from replaying it…
“I can’t believe I’m pregnant,” I whisper as I look down at the pregnancy test in my hand. Two pink lines. So simple, yet so life changing. My heart flutters in my chest, and my stomach feels like it’s doing flips. Madden and I have barley been married a year, but I know he’ll be excited. He loves me. I know he will love this little baby that’s growing inside me. With the way he dotes on me I can easily picture him being the same way to our child. I rest my hand on my belly where a piece of him and a piece of me grows, linked forever, created by our love.
Quickly, I gather my things and step out of our one-bedroom apartment. I can’t wait until tonight to tell him. I’m so excited I have to tell him now. The whole way to his office, my nerves skyrocket. My stomach feels queasy, and my heart is nearly pounding out of my chest. I don’t know if I’m nervous to tell him or if I’m just excited. We haven’t exactly been trying to have a baby, but the lack of protection didn’t help matters. He has to know this is coming — if not now, sometime in the near future.
When I walk inside his brand-new office, his secretary isn’t behind her desk. I think nothing of it. In an excited haze, I get closer and closer to his door.
With trembling fingers, I reach out and grab the knob. Just as I’m about to turn it, I hear, “Oh, Janeen. God… Damn… It… Fuck! Yes!” I know that groan. I usually hear it along with my name.
I freeze as my heart hammers away. Placing my ear against the door, I hear banging like someone’s shaking a table so hard they’re lifting the legs off the floor.
Morbidly, I want to see what’s going on behind this door. But do I really? Maybe I should turn around and pretend this was just a nightmare. Or maybe I should slam a door to give them a chance to stop whatever they’re doing before I catch him. Or not. Should I open the door and see for myself?
Yes. I have to know. I’m about to have his baby. If he’s with another woman, that’s something I need to know before this pregnancy gets too far along. My heart lurches at the thought of ending the piece of him growing inside of me. But how could I continue if he breaks my heart? After all the men Daddy traded me to, it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to terminate. At least with Madden, he’d pay to have it done properly instead of a dirty table and rusty scalpel.
Twisting the knob, I push the door open just enough for me to peek inside. Sure enough, he has his secretary bent over his desk. Her breasts are exposed and jiggling with his wild thrusts. Her eyes are closed, and her lips are agape as moans escape. His hands grip her by the hips, spreading her ass cheeks apart as he gazes down on his dick as it penetrates her.
“You like that, Janeen? Huh? Do you like me fucking you like the dirty slut you are?”
A quiet sob climbs up my throat, choking me. I have no choice but to softly close the door and run from his office.
I race to my car and drive erratically through traffic. I can barely see through my blurry, tear-filled eyes. The whole way home, the only thing I can think is: What am I going to do?
I’m pregnant. I have no family left. I have no one but Madden. I can’t go back to living in a motel or worse, the street. At least with him, I’m taken care of… and our baby would be taken care of. But I can’t. I can’t stay married to him if he’s fucking other women.
When I get home, I swerve crookedly into a spot. Then I rush in the door and fall to the floor, spilling my stomach into a nearby trash can. When there’s nothing left to heave up, I crawl to my bed and curl into a ball, crying myself to sleep.
“Amelia, I’m home,” Madden says, his voice bright and lacking any signs of guilt as he’s walking into the apartment and waking me from my sleep.
I push myself up the bed just as he comes strolling into the room. His smile falls from his face as he rushes to my side. “Are you okay? Are you sick?” He presses the back of his hand to my forehead, then runs his fingers down to my wrist. “Do I need to take you to the doctor?” Worry etches his face.
“No, I’m not sick. It’s nothing like that.” Not physically anyway. Heartsick? Soulsick? Disgusted that the hands touching me were earlier clutching someone else to him? Yes, yes, and yes.
He stands quickly. “I have a surprise for you. You’re going to love it.” He turns and grabs my jacket that’s hanging on the closet door.
“Come on.” He reaches for me and pulls me to my feet. His hand lands softly on my cheek, and he admires me before leaning in for a kiss. “Come on. You’re going to love this.” Did he put his lips on her? Shaking my head, I force the thoughts out of my mind before I start hurling on his designer shoes. Though it would serve him right. Fucking bastard.
Everything happens too quickly. I want to tell him what I saw today. I need to tell him. But I can’t catch my breath. He’s talking so quickly on the ride to show me my surprise. I can’t get in a word. I sit in the passenger side, quietly seething. I’m beginning to understand the concept of hell hath no fury. Because I’m not sure how long I can contain mine.
“Here we are,” he says, coming to a stop at a large metal gate. He punches some buttons on a security pad, and the gate silently swings open. He maneuvers the car through it.
“Where are we?”
“Our new home. I made the offer weeks ago. Today, the deal closed.” He throws the car in park. “It’s been so hard keeping it a secret from you. I hate keeping things from you. It causes an ache in my heart. But I didn’t want you to get your hopes up. I wanted to be sure we’d be able to call this place home before I mentioned it. I wanted to surprise you. Give you the home you deserve, my queen. And this is just the beginning. I’ll lay the world at your feet.”
My mouth is hanging open as I look out my window and up at the biggest house I’ve ever seen.
And that’s when I realized the difference between me and the random women he fucks. I’m his queen. He gives me everything I ask for. He would die for me and I for him. Those other bitches get nothing but a dirty fuck then sent on their merry way.
Whenever one of them thinks their random hook up will lead to replacing me, I always smile and wave. It’s my fucking crown and I wear that shit with honor.
In your minds, I’m sure you’re probably calling me a gold digger. But don’t judge me for being happy. I get everything I want. I
have more clothes, shoes, and jewels than any woman needs. I have an expensive sports car, a mansion, a full staff to wait on me, and enough money to go anywhere in the world I want to go.
My husband takes care of me and his daughter well. We’ve never wanted for anything. I have his heart and soul. Who cares if he needs to sink his dick into everything that moves? I know where his real loyalty and love lies.
I lick my lips and look up at him from beneath my lashes. “Want me to help you relax a bit?” I ask, rubbing his dick through his pants.
He catches my hand and draws it away. “I’m sorry, babe. There’s just too much shit going on right now. I wouldn’t be able to stay focused.”
I act hurt, but I’m not. This dumb mother fucker still doesn’t know that I have cameras installed in every room of the house. I saw what he did with little-miss-fuck-me. That little whore is just like her mother — wanting anything that’s mine.
I jerk away from him, letting my eyes drop down to the floor in mock dejection. I don’t want to give away that I know what he’s been doing, but I also want him to believe that my feelings are hurt from being denied.
Though I try to wriggle away, his hand doesn’t leave my wrist. He tugs me back, my chest pressing up against his. “Tonight when I get home, I’ll fuck you six ways to Sunday,” he growls in my ear. “But right now, I have a huge problem on my hands, and it requires my full attention.” He presses his lips passionately against mine one last time. Like I’m the force pumping blood through his veins.
“I’ll hold you to that.” I extract myself and walk toward the door.
With my hand on the knob, I look back at him to find he’s still watching me, even as I walk away. It causes a smile to spread across my face.
I really can’t blame those bitches for needing a piece of my husband. He’s sexy as fuck with his silky, raven-colored hair that’s never out of place and his impeccable suits. Not to mention that every inch of his body is hard as fuck. Gazing into his nearly black eyes, I sigh internally over his high cheekbones and plump lips. Combining that with the sexy dimple in his chin that I love to lick, he’s practically an invitation for sex. Too bad he lets everyone RSVP to it.
Opening the door, I step out, heading for my car. I turn out of the parking lot, heading in the direction of home in case he’s watching. Once I’m no longer in eyeshot, I make right-handed turns until I’m back at the office — only this time, at the back of the building where I won’t be seen.
I pull out my phone and send a quick text.
Back of the building. Hurry, I’m waiting.
I toss the phone onto the passenger side seat and climb out from behind the wheel. I lean against the driver’s side, crossing my arms over my chest while I wait.
After several long minutes, the door opens, and footsteps head in my direction. Turning, I look over my shoulder. “About time.”
“Sorry, boss man is keeping us under lock and key in there,” Enzo says, coming to a stop in front of me.
I grab ahold of his lapels and pull him against me. “Well then, I guess you better hurry.”
He suddenly grabs me by the thighs, picking me up. “I don’t know how smart this is. He’s right up there.” He motions with his head toward my husband’s office.
“So? He fucks whoever he wants. It’s only fair that I do the same.”
He shrugs but doesn’t bother to put me down. “He’d fucking kill me if he knew I was fucking the queen to his empire.”
I smile, knowing he probably would. “But it’s so much fun.” My hands fall to rub him over his pants.
He lets out a hissing breath. “What’s in this for you? I know you’ll never leave him to be with me. Why do you keep coming back?”
I unfasten his pants and slide my hand down the front, slowly pumping him. “I like being fucked by someone else right under his nose. You’re the perfect person for that.” I grin at the thought. “Now, are you going to fuck me or not?”
Without warning, his mouth smashes into mine. He reaches up my skirt and rips my panties from my body, dropping the shredded material to the wet concrete before slowly sliding inside.
2
Enzo rushes back inside before Mad catches him away from his post, and I climb behind the wheel of my steel gray Aston Martin, heading for home.
I’m only a few blocks away when my phone chimes from the seat next to me. I stop at an intersection and grab the phone, looking at the screen.
We need to meet.
I toss it back onto the seat, look both ways, and make a U-turn. Twenty minutes later, I’m pulling up at the docks.
I park my car and minutes later, Big slides into the passenger side.
“What’s so important it couldn’t wait? We can’t have impromptu meetings like this. It’s careless and risky,” I say, turning to look at him.
His light blue eyes are shining, and the dark scruff on his face has grown longer since I saw him last. He offers me a wide smile, showing off his perfect teeth. “Don’t act like you’re not happy to see me,” he flirts.
I roll my eyes. He’s nothing but a big man-child. He even dresses as such. Mad, he’s a businessman. He wears nice suits and always looks clean and fresh. Big, he’s nothing more than a kid that got rich too quickly. He doesn’t know how to handle his business or appearances. Instead of cleaning up nicely, he prefers to wear loose jeans, name-brand sneakers, and flashy jewelry, looking more like a frat boy than the nearly fifty-year-old man he is.
“What’s the meaning of this?” I finally ask.
“I need Enzo. He’s not answering his phone.”
My brows raise. “No shit. Because of the little stunt you all pulled, Mad has him and every other guy at the warehouse. He’s not happy about that 750 grand.”
He waves his hand in front of his face. “That’s nothing compared to what we’ll make once we get this clown off the streets. Shit’s about to go down. I thought you’d like to watch with me.”
I sit up quickly, scanning the parking lot, but I don’t see anything out of the ordinary. “What did you do?”
“Exactly what we planned.” He smiles.
“We planned? Fuck no. This was your plan, and I wasn’t supposed to be anywhere near this shit show when it blew up.”
“You’re so damn sexy when you’re pissed, you know that?”
“Ugh, go fuck your wife… or your girlfriend.”
He shakes his head. “Na, I think I want a woman with class. Someone who can show me how it’s done. What do you say?” He wags his eyebrows at me.
“I think I’m going to tear off your balls and shove them down your throat if you don’t get out of my car, so I can leave before this shit blows up and covers everything in the vicinity.”
“Damn, Madden let you talk that way?”
Obviously, he’s offended by my language.
“No, he’s too busy fucking your wife and your girlfriend. Now, get out and don’t call me again unless it’s necessary.”
“Fuck!” he yells. “I know he’s been banging Camille for years now, but Abby too?”
I snort. “There’s not many out there he hasn’t banged by this point.”
He shakes his head then looks at me. “And you don’t care?”
Judgment. I even get it from criminals. “You’re going to judge me? He’s been fucking your wife for nearly twenty years, and you’re still with her. What’s that say about you?”
“I’m stuck with that bitch. If I leave, she’ll take half of everything. Which is why I have Abby. But you?” He turns fully in his seat and looks me over. “You’re beautiful, ruthless, and from what I heard, a kinky fuck. Why you put up with him?”
“He may fuck everything that moves, but when shit goes down, I know who loves me and who has my back.” I look over at him. “Who has yours?”
If it isn’t obvious, Camille won’t do shit but let him fall. Abby, she’ll fuck anyone that has something to give her. Big is all alone. My husband may have a fuck list longer than my a
rm, but he will protect his family.
He stands and gets out. “Ruthless woman,” he mumbles before slamming the door closed.
Without a backwards look, I tear out of the parking lot, just in case he was right, and shit actually does hit the fan.
And before you ask, no, I’m not fucking Big. I wouldn’t let him touch me with his pinky, let alone, his dick.
A couple weeks ago, he approached me with a proposition to get an up-and-coming dealer off the street: KingPin. He was nothing but a small-time dealer. He’d been flying under the radar until he got lucky and found a big-time supplier. As of now, he’s not anywhere near the level Mad is, but soon enough he could take over.
Madden wasn’t worried. He doesn’t ever piss around with the small-timers, preferring to strike once they get used to living large. Once they get comfortable and cocky, thinking they’ll never get caught, that’s when Mad swoops in.
However, after the last go around two years ago, I’m not comfortable with waiting. Shit can go south in a hurry, which is why I want to smash KingPin before he becomes a problem. I recall far too easily how fast shit can hit the fan…
“Where are you going so late?” I ask Mad with a frown as I stop in the doorway of his office to find him pulling on his jacket.
He looks up at me with anger and worry etched around his dark eyes. “We’re going after Abe tonight,” he clips in an even tone.
“Tonight? Why tonight? I thought you weren’t worried about him. You said he was a small-time dealer who wasn’t worth your time.” I cross my arms over my chest, trying to contain my own worry, and walk deeper into the room.
“He’s had a string of good luck lately. He’s getting too big. It’s time to shut him down.”
“What’s the plan? Do you need my help?”
He walks up to me, cupping my cheeks with his palms. “No. Please stay here. I don’t want you involved in this,” he pleas.
Dirty Chicago_Season One Page 4
