Chicago Leo (Femme Fatale Book 1)

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Chicago Leo (Femme Fatale Book 1) Page 3

by Laikyn Meng


  “Dante, don’t you think you should cut back on the quantity. There is no way you can be selling that shit this quick. We both know you are ingesting more of the product.”

  “I don’t ask you for business advice, so do us all a favor and pretend I give a fuck what you think, little chink.”

  “You are a fucking dumbass. I know what you are searching for, that first high feeling. The one that hits your brain with euphoria. But guess what, you chump? Your body is too used to every drop, snort, and pill. Dante, you won’t ever get high enough and that pathetic part of you that wants to be free, well, that little boy won’t ever get out of prison. Lose my goddamn number, we cut ties now. Tell Roulette we have no more business between us.”

  Fuck, this will be an even bigger mess.

  “Whoa, whoa, now see there you go again overreacting! You can’t possibly assume that you could do this without us. We are your biggest clients in the city. You will bankrupt without us rolling in money every week.”

  “Awe, see how typical of a man to backpedal, knowing he went too far. It is the disrespect you think you can throw around just because you work for your sister.”

  “I don’t work for my sister.”

  “Dante, if you ever call me again, I will tell Max you touched me.”

  “Think I’m scared of some secretary errand boy?”

  “You really are not the smartest person. Don’t you know the people who work for the Leo?”

  Then I get confused; I fucking hate being confused. So when Poe starts laughing, I hang up on her. Stupid bitch, I don’t need her; we don’t need her. We can do this alone; we will create our own business.

  “Dante!”

  Shit!

  “Roulette, listen, I can handle this. I know a few guys. We can figure this out. It will be even better than before.”

  Before I can turn around, her fist is in my face, slamming against my cheek with full force.

  “Poe doesn’t know shit; we are better than her.”

  “We are not better than anyone in this business. But especially not better than Poe in the drug business. Dante, tell me how much money she brings in a month for us to clean?” Roulette is in my face, and I try to pull back, but she moves closer again.

  “A few million, give or take. We can find another genius.”

  “A few million? Marley, show Dante what we grossed last month in profits.” Finally taking a step back, Marley opens his phone and hands it to me.

  Those numbers can’t be right. There is no way we have that many digits coming in. Where has my head been? How did I not assume we held that wealth?

  “That isn’t possible.”

  “Just because I try to keep our money, instead of you smoking it, doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. I threatened Poe, Dante; I told her if she backed out now, I would be the first to place a bounty on her head. Do you know what she did? Poe fucking laughed at me!” Another slap across my cheek and I grab her arm and shove her off me.

  “Calm the fuck down, Roulette.” I stand over her, and she hates how I tower. Her leg raises, and she slams her heel into my ball sack.

  By the time she stands, she is calm, and I prefer the demon from before. “Did you call her a chink? Is there someplace in that bag of bones that makes you think she isn’t as good as we are? We only play with gods, Dante.”

  “She blew it out of proportion; it was a joke.”

  “Don’t make stupid jokes. Marley, do you think it was funny?” Roulette looks over her shoulder at her second-hand man. Marley’s expression doesn’t change.

  “Not fair; he doesn’t think anything is funny. He is a goddamn mute half the time.”

  “Dante, you are going to grovel; you will do grunt work. I don’t care if she makes you lick her pretty toes. She will not go to another bookkeeper. Do we understand what is at stake?”

  Roulette leaves with her entourage. I curl my hand around my sore balls. I hate them all and consider my options. And so I go to the enemy and bargain.

  “What are you looking at? Are you watching horror porn again, Dante? I hate to tell you this, and I am never one to kink shame. But knowing that is your thing, it makes perfect sense.” Roman slaps my shoulder as I close out of the screen, where they continue to send footage of Roulette.

  My knees start to bounce; they shouldn’t be taking this long. Why haven’t they heard from Rou? She has been missing for hours. I don’t understand.

  “Are you okay, man?” Roman peeks an eyebrow at me as he chews on a long piece of celery.

  My knee's bouncing continues and doesn’t stop until five minutes later—Marley waltzes in with coordinates and no other word.

  “Thank fuck,” I say under my breath, jumping up to follow.

  But Roman doesn’t move; he stares at me, brooding with the information and my reaction. He does a final nod and slowly comes along.

  The car ride doesn’t make my anxiety any easier.

  “Could you stop with the restless leg syndrome? The damn SUV is about to take a tumble.” Marley curses me, and I bite off my fingernails. Roman is smart not to look too closely at my behavior.

  I start sweating when we get closer; this night isn’t going my way. Two fuckups this massive is a new record.

  “Hey, could you stop? I need to take a piss, real quick?” We are on the highway, speeding, and I’ve gone numb from thinking irrational.

  Marley tosses an empty bottle at my face, and I begin to have stage freight.

  “What? Are you worried I might get off on seeing my cousin’s dick? Can’t say incest is my kink, Dante.” Roman stares out the windshield; my heart is beating like it might explode.

  “What the hell are you tweaking on, Dante?” Marley does not mess around. He slams the vehicle in park, smashing my face into his seat.

  “Fuck, can a guy get a warning?” Rubbing my forehead.

  “Get your shit together; I am going to go into that building and bring out Roulette. If at any point you decide you can’t handle being a soldier in this war, then do us all a favor and stay in the car.” It must have really pissed off Marley this afternoon.

  Marley exits, but just before I grab the handle to get out, it locks.

  “I know it was you.” Roman doesn’t turn to face me. And I know he is making this more comfortable for me to be a traitor.

  “I don’t know what you are talking about. Cut the shit; we’ve got to get in there. Marley needs our back up.” I try the door again, and it won’t budge. “Roman, I swear to God, unlock my door, or we will have a bigger problem than—”

  “Than selling your sister to save yourself? Trading an empire you don’t have power over?” This time, he turns to face me, and I always hated being younger than him. “You’ll be dead by morning.”

  The locks ping up; I race to the door. I blink wildly around for a solution to Roman. I could kill him before he kills me.

  Where is my gun?

  Fuck, I think I forgot my gun.

  This is not my best moment.

  Roman is going to cause some severe shifts in the dynamics. How was I going to take care of him?

  Marley throws me an extra piece, and I smooth my hand over it. I run in guns blazing, hoping these motherfuckers shoot me dead before my sister ever knows it was my fault that she was captured.

  Chapter 6

  Roulette

  My mother taught me always to lift my face and look in the eyes of my abuser. Even if you come out bloody, they would still remember your face. How it never was shy to the punishment of pain.

  She said this, even as she cowered at the fists of my father. The black bag over my head doesn’t make me scared. I check my pulse and lower its speed. It doesn’t matter what they want; it doesn’t matter what they bargain. Once they kidnapped the queen, we all returned to the medieval ages, an eye for eye, motherfucker.

  I hope they packed their spears.

  Building an empire isn’t easy. If it was, I wouldn’t have lusted at the opportunity. To create a kingdom, y
ou must make connections; you have to construct an image with your fellow peers. Your favors turn into a new type of relationship, one expected to be returned.

  “I’ve only ever begged once in my life. And that wasn’t when Dante and I were starving in the streets. I did it for a man, weak for his love. Who could blame me? I was eighteen. But make no mistake, your petty threats, they fall on ignorant ears. There will be no begging for relief from me to a man like you.” Santiago’s fist slaps against my cheek, and I rear back, taking the pain. All because he thinks he owns this portion of my sanity.

  “Did it hurt?” His grin is almost charming.

  “Did what hurt?”

  “When you fell from heaven?”

  “No, but it hurt when I rose from the ashes of hell. Anything you offer, I can get myself. Cars, money, jewelry. There is no reason for you, Santiago.”

  “Not even a good dicking?” He was one of those guys who had an ego that needed constant stroking. “You hurt my pride, Empress.”

  “I would hurt more if you untied me.”

  “Don’t think it is too clever to talk back to the person who holds your freedom, little girl.” He comes right in my face, and instead of spitting, I smack my forehead against his.

  Santiago, the ruler of the 12. Not knights or an army of ruthless men. He has twelve siblings. I tell you, I will have to ask Carmen why all the Spanish families have so many damn kids; you would assume they were polygamists.

  “Haven’t been a little girl in a long time. Is that what this is about, some warped version of fulfilling your fantasy? I hear there are plenty of options when you ride the Heartbeat.” Heartbeat, Flatline, it all depends who you ask and who is involved in the sex trade of our nation.

  He laughs, and it isn’t kind or an appealing laugh. He does it to intimidate me. But I’ve been buried with bodies before, with the realization I wasn’t dead. My enemy’s thrill doesn’t shock me one bit. In fact, it makes it easier to conquer him.

  “Trust me when I say, the dancers at my club are better sexual partners than any man I've been with. And that is why I don't sleep with men who beg or brag. I sleep with a superior species. There is a pyramid; at the top is a queen, each level, except the bottom, is made up of queens. While the moving feet are all the men who mocked us, scorned our dreams, and taunted our ambitions. All because we did it better than them.” Santiago doesn’t like my speech, mostly because he knows it is true. He isn’t a man that respects a woman in a position of power or praise.

  “You Armenians think you are better than anyone else, all because you came from nothing and rose up the ranks. Would you like me to tell you what is difficult? To be born in a race, continue running until your feet bleed. Guaranteeing the forefathers a place in the next life.” His long fingers stroll up to my exposed thigh. Yet, when he meets my eyes, I cock my head, daring him to go further.

  “What a sad sob story; I’m sorry your silver spoon birth was not up to your standards.” My assumption about Santiago’s beauty is I believe he was stunning, and it was an exquisiteness he never had to work for.

  But now, the degrading man is dying slowly by the force of having to reach standards even he knows he can’t reach. Also, because I’m not willing to give it up.

  “Roulette, you know nothing about upholding family reputations. The Heartbeat is a side error. We always cover our tracks.”

  “Awe, there is your weakness, my foe. You are too wrapped up in the wrong business to see clearly. Big man wants more money.” They probably think I am insane as I laugh with blood in my teeth. “Tell me of the daffodils you've burned, the daisies you've plucked.”

  The noise outside alerts them of a new warning. “And I will tell you how many stems I ripped from their growth. I will tell you how I strangled every weed that came into my yard, not because there was a threat. But because there was the opportunity to become a threat. We all grow. All of us have the expectation of surviving; it will be terribly sad you won’t be one of them.” These won’t be the last words I say to Santiago, but somehow, I know he likes it that way.

  Dante strolls in, shooting out the men, at least the ones he could get before they fled. Roman comes up from behind, covered by our men. “Well, you decided to go with the weed metaphor again, I see. Maybe you need to read up on some new material.”

  “Awe, come on, that’s my best line, cousin.” He cuts the zip ties, and I flex my hands.

  “Nice shiner, sister.” Dante steps on the man’s chest, holding him down.

  “Wanting a matching one?” I smile at him, grab the gun from Roman’s hand, and leave a message to anyone else who wants to rob us of our territory.

  Later in the evening, we come back and celebrate. Drinks go around, and I pretend my wrists don’t ache. I am not as young as I once was. The years being a mobster has left me lethargic.

  Tonight at Curious, the lights are glittery, and I feel buzzed. My brother isn’t being an annoying piece of shit. Roman keeps staring at the ground.

  “What’s your deal, cousin? I’m free. And we just absorbed another ground to cover. We are doing good.” I lean forward to pour him a drink.

  “Roulette—” He starts, but the lights turn on, and the SWAT teams jump on us.

  “Roman Tonoyan, you are under arrest. You need to come with us. We are with the Department of Homeland Security. We have it on good authority that you are residing in the United States illegally and are connected to illegal activities.” Cop 1 starts slapping orders, and my guys are pushing against his team.

  “You can’t be serious?”

  Roman’s jaw locks, and he stares right at my brother the whole time.

  “Wait! Where are you taking him? Max get Journee here ASAP.”

  “I am not at liberty to say; the circumstances of his deportation are confidential.” Cop 1 is not getting paid.

  “Deportation? Listen, you either tell me where the fuck you are taking him, or we are all about to have ourselves an old western standoff. Tell me, have you ever been a hostage before?” The guy knows I mean business because he opens and closes his mouth, debating which side he wants to be loyal to.

  “Dante, get your ass up and fucking do something!” Dante scrambles to be supportive.

  “I am here to transport Roman to the airport, where he will be transferred and booked back to Armenia.” Cop 1 is going to be shot for being the messenger.

  “The fuck?” And I try to keep my cool, I really do. But when someone threatens my family, I can’t look the other way.

  They may work for the government, and maybe we should respect leadership. Because right now, I don’t give a fuck what gender bender or career outcast you claim to be.

  There is no way in the corrupt hell I rule will they take my cousin. So I let my emotions come out, and raise my gun at the man holding my cousin’s arms behind his back.

  “Roulette, what are you doing? We don’t kill cops.” Dante is speaking too quickly.

  “Just one?” But Marley pulls down my arm, and I bring up the other, holding a gun to his face. “Roman is not going anywhere.” It is irrational, but I know as Marley holds down both of my arms. I know, somehow, we have already lost this fight.

  Roman lifts his head as they escort him out of our haven. I buck against Marley and throw back my head into his face until he lets go.

  “Get in my way again, and—I don’t know why I am wasting my time warning you. There will be no warning; I will cremate you and send your teeth to your widow.” I grab the long bottle of rum and swallow as much as I can before coming back up for air.

  “Max, where the fuck is Journee?”

  “She was at her niece’s ballet recital; she will be here shortly.” Somewhere in the crowd, he responds.

  “Until she gets here, find me something to smash.” On the way up to my suite, I don’t consider the sweat and blood on my body. I guess I forgot to take the time to cleanse my spirits from Santiago’s pitiful rendezvous. Right now, none of that mattered to me.

 
“Everybody assumes you’re dead.” Jordan seems supportive of this rumor. I feed into his fabricated memory. Because it is one I concocted to dissuade him from the real revelation.

  The man was never weak, just not someone you should trust, and not one who easily forgives either.

  I climb on his lap.

  “Get off of me, Roulette.”

  “Try, Jordan,” I whisper deep into his ear, and I can feel his hands grip tighter on my waist; his glare begins to fade.

  “It doesn’t always work; it was a fluke that one time.”

  “Give it a chance, never leave a man behind. Isn’t that your boy scout motto?”

  “Strip now.” His voice drips with raw demand.

  I begin, but he finishes, tearing open my thin robe. “I fucking love your skin. Why do you always wear that pearl necklace?”

  “You gave it to me.”

  “But that is not why you wear it. If that was the case, you would have your wedding ring on.”

  He notices, catching the left hand and bare finger.

  “It’s getting cleaned.” Because I backhanded a bitch so hard, they bleed. “I wear it because it reminds me of who I was before I met you.” It was the first piece of jewelry he bought for me.

  I can feel his breath get heavy as I rub myself against him; maybe he can’t handle it, but he is getting aroused.

  “When I could walk?”

  “When you could be happy. There we go, big guy.” I pull down his sweatpants, let his membrane stand confident and tall.

  “Wow.” We both acknowledge how beautiful the miracle awaiting had been. I tilt one leg to rise up and pierce myself.

  “Wait, we need a condom.”

  My head snaps at his concern. “Why? We’ve never used a condom before.”

  “I know, fuck, this is so hard to restrain myself. I don’t know who or how many you’ve been with.”

  “Been with? Me?”

  “Come on, Roulette. In the last few years, you are telling me one of those bodyguards hasn’t fucked you to ease your ache?”

  “No.” Now I am the one pouting.

  “Unbelievable. Marley, you go with my wife everywhere. Even to the bathroom, correct?”

 

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