by Laikyn Meng
Chicago Leo
Femme Fatale
Book 1
Laikyn Meng
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product(s) of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental or meant to lend credibility and authenticity to the story. The use of brand names and locations should not be read as an endorsement of this author’s work. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.
18+ Mature content, explicit language, and sexual content. Sensitivity warnings. Abuse and violence, alcohol, and drug use.
ISBN: 9798707233340
COPYRIGHT © 2021 THE ORANGE 9 PUBLISHING COMPANY LLC
Table of Contents
Title Page
Disclaimer
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
The End.
Tortured Truth
TRUE LIES Series
MUM’S THE WORD SERIES
Femme Fatale Series
FOLLOW
Prologue
The first time I walked into a casino, I thought there was a mistake. The place had to be someone’s mansion. Because spinning around, it was a palace. With chandeliers, marble floors, and actual gold trim. It looked like it had been poured by ministers conspiring with monks.
The employees looked out of place. We were all too dirty to be walking on pavement poured by the past suppressed generation.
There was no king, no queen who ruled. But I knew somehow one day it would be my throne to claim.
As the television plays, portions of the latest national crisis appear. The announcer holds tightly to her microphone as she holds back tears.
“What started out as a normal sunny Saturday took a fatal turn when the annual beauty pageant became a very public massacre.”
The interview panes to the local preacher as he holds his head high.
“We do not know the lesson of God’s plan for these young souls leaving us so early. It is with immense sadness we gather here in such unfortunate circumstances. Our hearts are broken knowing our daughter was among the victims that were stolen from us this morning.” His voice trembles, and I touch my throat to imagine the sensation.
I twirl in my chair and look out the expansive windows. The sun rises further into the sky, and when my crew comes through the doors, I rise to the occasion.
“Well, let’s get our hands dirty, shall we?”
If it isn’t drugs, women, or weapons. What is it, you wonder we trade favors for? What every man and woman want, the one thing that drives the human spirit to do the most unspeakable and incredible acts—money. We are in the business of lending, fabricating, recruiting millions every day.
We loan paper; we own currency. If dead presidents weren’t famously slapped on our money, faces we greet every day in the mirror would be etched on the material in infamy.
They may forget our faces, names, hell, even our empire. But they will close their eyes and hear the shift in our shoes, the scent of my perfume. They will remember that even gods get scared, even if they are just ghosts.
And do you know what they will say to us when we die? As the fortress of Hell encircles us? Come closer as I whisper, “Welcome to the Chicago Leo.”
Chapter 1
Dante
The elevator doors ding open, 7 men follow me out. We all wear tuxedos, like grooms going to the altar meeting their fucking brides. But we are consulting with a witch, so maybe it is our funerals beyond the double doors. The lady of the castle sits on her chair behind a black desk.
Her head is thrown back, moaning with closed eyes. Lost in a bliss-filled dream. We all wait, crowding the room. All men try to remain unsurprised. Roulette’s robe is split open; a curly-haired redhead is buried between her legs.
“Almost there.” Her voice is vulnerable yet strong. She sounds young again.
I hold a fist up in the air, making sure we hold our silence, not interrupting the scene.
Roulette must feel the breeze change; her eyelids begin to flutter as they break open. For a few seconds, she looks embarrassed, like she hasn’t lost all innocence. Recovering quickly by tapping the redhead on her shoulder.
“Cassie, time’s up.” My sister’s voice is all authority.
The redhead gets off her knees, puts on her heels, “Hello, boys.” Tidying her lips with clean up.
We nod, not saying a word.
The empress pulls her toned legs closed, fixing her silk robe to cover her cleavage; Christmas presents from years ago. I should shy away, but all I do is hide my eye roll at my sister’s display.
“See you at home, honey.” Cassie kisses me on the cheek. Her lips were still wet with the scent of womanhood.
I keep my eyes forward, hands locked hanging in front of my junk, clenching my Glock.
“Was that the contortionist from the strip club Curious?”
“My wife.” That is all I say, as he takes a step back, releasing a surprised damn.
“Keep your words.” I am stern, but never look over my shoulder to say goodbye to my woman.
“Dante, good morning. Are these the fresh meat?” Roulette’s question stings, enquiring about my judgments. She pours herself lemon water, waiting for a reply.
The door opens, and my nephew runs to his mom’s side.
“Hello, the light of my eyes.” Roulette opens her arms wide, embracing her son.
“Mom, you were supposed to get ready. Marley already made us breakfast.”
“She has a son?” This idiot won’t shut up. My sister ignores his comments, as do the rest of the new recruits, possibly out of fear or because they actually hold a brain cell.
“Oh, you know your mother; she lost her watch, and she is fickle with time.” Pretending she is innocent, acting she as if isn’t the devil comes easy for her.
“Come on, we are going to be late.”
“I’ll be right there, save me my seat.” Killian hugs Roman, and I give him a high five on his way out.
“Shall we?” Roulette saunters around the formation.
“Where’s his daddy?” He’s making his last joke.
Before I can interfere, she pulls a gun, she shoots, she maims.
Nobody moves.
“He’s dead, just like you. Anymore questions?” She levels everybody; her eyes meet mine. There is a promise to it; she does not play around. And it becomes too severe when her accent comes through with the threat.
“Who is the target?” Roulette doesn’t even apologize for making a scene earlier. She does these power plays on purpose.
“Some low-level kingpin.”
“Why are we taking our time to make an example?”
“You hired the dude, don’t look at me.” I am annoyed and rightfully pissed off; this feels like fucking babysitting. I am a goddamn king; I don’t have time for this petty shit.
“Dante,
listen, if I walk in there and that man owes me less than $10,000, I am going to personally tie you up and let everyone watch you dangle. You oversee recruiting. You are the one that got greedy and wanted an army. Darling, if you weren’t man enough to become commander-in-chief, you should have backed down just like the peasants do.” She exits the car, not giving me a chance to talk back. Her outfit is always ridiculous with its red-carpet appeal.
“Hello?” Roulette calls out to the echoing warehouse. But there is no reply for the same greeting. Instead, she is met with the sorrows of a dying man.
“Well, hello, sweetie. How did you find your way into our trap? Are you a stinky rat?”
The man on the ground gags from the cloth in his mouth. I wonder what prayer he will call out when he loses his energy to fight fate.
“Marley, Max? Can someone give me answers?” Batting her eyelashes, the men around us speak up and explain.
“Awe, see, there is the issue.” She leans in, brings a rope around his throat. “You had an arrangement with a dead man. Didn’t you know you don’t make deals with ghosts?” Her fists twist the rope around her knuckles, and she pulls back.
The heel of her shoe digging into his spine. Yet she never lets up, not until she watches his body try to reject murder.
It isn’t the first murder Roulette has committed. We became orphans after her first taste.
Chapter 2
Roulette
The sound of bills being counted helps my morning go better. It’s like injecting coffee; I am wide awake and excited to get more. Shifting in my seat, I watch the security tapes from the night before. I see a woman being dragged by two large men while another man watches them take her away.
I try to remember if there are any tribal reservations around here; a tourist probably, but what a beautiful indigenous she is. At least security is doing their job. It isn’t until the afternoon that I realize those men don’t work for me.
I stare out my open window; there are safety restrictions for high rise hotels. But being the owner, I made an exception for myself.
The height intrigues me; I tease it, tempt myself with the freedom of falling. I try to pick up any noise, any at all. But I am struck with silence.
I cringe because it feels like a slap in the face. Anything to distract me from the evidence I choose to live. Sucking in a breath as I begin to slip back into my memories.
“Jordan.”
He refuses to speak to me. His wheelchair moves by me without a squeak. I want to tell him don’t be a coward. But I would be saying it to myself. His rugged, long arms, muscular from its job, push his wheels to move out of the area.
“Do you wish to be free, my love?” It’s a game we play together; sometimes, I pretend he is more vital than me, that he has a choice.
“From you or life?”
“Either.”
“Can’t have one without the other. Now, can I?”
“If you could?”
“Yes.”
“Yes?”
“Last time I tried to leave, you had me shot in the spine. So I would never be able to walk away. Need help to go to the bloody bathroom, like a fucking child. How humiliating it must be for you to have a cripple as a husband.” With that confession, he leaves me twirling the glass of wine as I let it drip and stain the carpet. Knowing it isn’t the only red liquid that will be spilled.
By the time I make it into my office, I am already faced with Dante’s complaining.
“Cassie is my wife. You cannot take everything as yours.” Dante’s grip on the base of my throat doesn’t tighten like he wishes it could.
“Are you upset that she got me off and not you, brother?”
“I miss when you were a meek girl, scared of the shadows in the dark alleyways we would hide in.”
“I miss her too.” But enough talk of the past; I take his hand off me and transfer to gather my gun and cash.
“Where are you going?”
“To the streets.”
“Not alone.”
“Always alone, besides Marley has the night off. It’s his anniversary or some shit.”
My brother changes the subject, knowing he won’t win. He adjusts his tie. “Cassie is mine; I request you choose others to fulfill your fantasies.”
“How long have you been dipping into her pool? Two, three years at most? Yes, she is loyal, with the evidence I gathered. But other than that, she’s another friendly face to fuck.” I tally up my dollar bills as I shove the remainder in my bra.
“You had her followed?”
“We have everyone followed, even people doing the following.”
“Please let me possess one thing that does not share your name.” Dante pleads with me; he wants ownership of one thing I can’t control. But that isn’t the game we vowed to play.
“Okay, out of respect for you.”
“If not, everybody is fair game.” His eyes challenge me, wanting to taste the few women I protect.
“No, you touch my family, I’ll give you more than the stripes you bear on your back.”
“Thought I was included in that family.”
“Loyalty will get you far, but soon we all have to pay the price for that loyalty. Remind me how high or low in the graves our worth becomes?” I give him a wink as I leave. Dante is bitter that he doesn’t have the power to claim as I do. He denies that I dragged him along, gifting him partially.
We both know who is the head of the snake here.
YOU DO NOT DRESS LIKE a queen when you come here. Among the dealers, the thugs, the prostitutes. Here you are, just flesh and bone, just another body in another minute. It doesn’t matter any claim to fame because you are bait, like any other sucker taking a risk behind that forged door.
The smell doesn’t nauseate me anymore. First, the hit of sweat mixes with an awful metallic, but I usher myself to the corner before I smell the clouds of cocaine.
In the corner, some give me space as they recognize my face. Even in disguise, I am noticeable. I give off an energy spike. Poe nods over at me, making quick handshakes in exchange for money.
“Now, what would your mother say about her daughter being in a place like this?” I elbow her as we watch the matchups.
“She would curse a pretty word and then go pray to my ancestors to give me the strength to see the error of my ways. They’re very spiritual people, shame they plead to spirits.” Poe puts out her arm, and a man walks by to grab a pound of something.
“Good season?”
“Mary Jane is always in season. Did those bids come through for the farmland? I need to start growing if I want to get ahead of the new batches on the west coast.”
“Oklahoma.”
“No, I’ve never been. What about you?”
“Poe, I said Oklahoma. Knox got us approved for several acres.”
“Are you serious? Oklahoma, why not Alaska? It isn’t like down in Austin, Texas, where you got sunshine and humidity for the good portions of the year. What the fuck you want me to do in Oklahoma?”
“Be a good little scientist and work your magic. Find some good soil up in those mountains and pick your pace.” It’s a favor, but only because I arranged 20% of the field crop earnings.
“It better be worth it. Later, Rou. Headed to the clubs to hit the bachelor parties.”
“Don’t forget the bachelorette parties too!” Poe doesn’t have to be on the ground, being the feet or doing the grunt work. She enjoys watching their faces light up. From beginning to end, she wants to see the follow-through.
Tonight, the board leader comes into the arena, and I remember him, just like I did Knox. He is fearless because he has nothing to lose and every ounce to gain. In respect, in women, in money.
Therefore, I am here to take the picks for my own allegiance.
His name is Razer Blaze, 24 years old. Comes from the right family, with a shit ton of brothers. A small-town Colorado boy that must have outgrown his MMA training to come enter this bloodbath.
Scanning the crowd, I see a few regulars, but a lot of the men here are rowdy with a new kind of thirst. They seek permission to dive and never come up for air.
After the first punch, I call the fight. Razer’s knuckles aren’t bleeding, but I can see from here that he is trying to punish someone as he jabs the guy’s throat.
It takes a few more illegal hits, and his opponent is taken to the back room to regain consciousness.
As the next fight starts, I walk through the people to find him.
His head is down, wiping a towel over his face full of sweat. His muscles are contracting, coming down from the adrenaline high.
“Could have gone pro, but decided you liked slumming it with the underdogs.” I keep my eyes forward, not giving him the attention all men want.
“Don’t like living my life with could have’s. I am more of a doer and be done type.” Razer’s voice is in a trance, the respectful baritone of masculinity.
“Roulette, the Empress of The Chicago Leo.” Putting out my hand, not worried about it getting dirty. They’ve been tainted for years.
“I know who you are, just the woman I wanted to see tonight.” The comment doesn’t sound elated. “I want to fight for you.”
“I own a strip club and a casino.” Shrugging as I move out of someone’s way. “Sorry if you got another idea about what I do.”
He stands to full height, and I stare straight at him, backing up so I don’t have to look up to the guy.
“Patch said you would be able to help me.” Razer is too far away from getting stabbed; I mean, I don’t know these people he still might get stabbed. I just meant he is too far away from my range.
I purse my lips first, holding myself back from saying the long-lost lover’s name. Avoiding the way it rippled out of my throat for days.
“Oh, did he? And how did he assume I could help you?” The beat of my heart changes, and even though he isn’t here to testify against me, I loved that man.
“Same way you helped Knox.”
“You want to become like Knox; he owns a prison.”
Razer shakes his head before continuing. “I want to fight. No one will take me on because they think I’m a hothead, a loose cannon that can’t be coached. No one will touch me. This is why I am losing my chances at pro fights.”