Inside, Lucky was guided toward the elevator and she rode it to the top floor and stepped out onto the rooftop pavilion with exotic floral arrangements, a rooftop garden, and deck chairs. The place seemed a world away from everything else. The only occupant was Angel. He was seated by the bar sipping on a clear drink. He was dressed for the warm weather in white shorts and white loafers, but he was shirtless with a thin gold chain decorating his neck. He spotted Lucky and smiled.
“You look beautiful,” he said to her.
She smiled. “Thank you.”
“You must be hungry after your trip. I already had the chef prepare you a nice meal,” he said.
Lucky was famished. She was eating for two and she was soon going to tell him the news. Angel snapped his fingers, and a white male chef came into her view with eagerness to appease. He set before her a plate of chicken parmagiana and a plate of salmon. He went to pour a glass of white wine, but Lucky waved her hand and said, “No, thank you. I’ll take a glass of water.”
“You don’t drink with me?” said Angel.
“Not right now,” she said.
He wanted to toast with her because business had been really good. Lucky was a shrewd bitch when it came to business and the streets. Together, they were moving more cocaine than there was snow in the Himalayas. Angel was sorry that he’d doubted her. She was better than her mother, a lot more resourceful, and the sex was good. In fact, he was looking forward to a second encounter with her tonight. But for now, they had a late lunch and talked.
After lunch, Angel took Lucky on a tour of the hotel, which he owned. It was a beautiful place. Her room was a luxurious suite, and Angel wanted to put the soft bed to good use. He made it unequivocally known to Lucky that he wanted to have sex with her tonight. She remained nonchalant toward him.
Lucky stood out on the balcony gazing at the sea. The sun was gradually setting and creating a golden glow over the ocean and the landscape. Angel approached her from behind and wrapped his arms around her. It felt good, and she groaned faintly. He started to fondle her breast and kissed the side of her neck, and she could feel his erection growing behind her. His hands reached under her shirt and he felt how swollen her tits had become. They felt plump and juicy in his hands.
“I’m pregnant,” she announced to him abruptly.
The movement of his hands against her breasts suddenly paused. He removed his arms from around her and took a few steps back. Lucky turned around to face him. She lifted her shirt and he didn’t see much. If she were pregnant the telltale sign was her breasts. Angel’s mood quickly shifted from lover to interrogator.
“By whom?” he asked her.
“By you . . . it’s your baby.”
“You lie to me, Lucky?”
“No, I’m not lying. You’re the only man I’ve been with—no one else,” she told him.
“So sad for you.”
“Sad? I don’t understand.”
“You need to get an abortion immediately.”
An abortion? She was shocked to hear those words come from him. She was already twelve weeks and soon to enter her second trimester. She could feel her body changing, and the nausea had subsided.
“I’m not killing my baby,” Lucky said to him.
“Either you’ll get an abortion or I’ll give you one myself,” he said harshly.
Lucky was taken aback by his reaction—his words. Protectively she placed both hands over her stomach. She glared at him and was ready to fight back if he came to attack her. She was willing to protect her unborn child by any means necessary, even if it meant going toe-to-toe with a powerful kingpin like Angel.
Angel saw her tense up. “That baby is going to get you killed.”
“I will die before I let you do anything to it.” Lucky’s chest heaved up and down from the stress.
Angel took a deep breath. Things were growing hostile. He realized that he was being too harsh with Lucky. He wasn’t in love with her, but that one night together had formed a connection. And although they were business associates, he would contact her from time to time to check on her.
“You can’t go full term with that baby,” he warned her. “They won’t let you.”
No one was going to tell Lucky what she could and what she couldn’t do. It was her baby and her body.
“If you have that baby, its life will be in serious danger. There’s a long standing tradition in the Juarez cartel that you don’t muddy the bloodline. Children in my family must be a hundred percent Mexican. We don’t mix races. If anyone finds out about your pregnancy, they will come for you.”
“But you’re Angel Morales. You are the Juarez cartel,” Lucky replied.
“I’m a major part of it, but there are others out there that I have no control over,” he said.
“I won’t tell anyone that it’s your baby,” she said.
“Why would you take that chance? If my wife ever finds out about you—”
“Wife?” It was the first time she heard that he was married.
“Yes, my wife. If she finds out about the pregnancy, she will surely come for you and terminate you and the baby.”
“I’m not afraid of your fuckin’ wife,” Lucky replied brazenly.
“You should be. She scares me sometimes,” he said.
Lucky wasn’t in a joking mood. “If that bitch comes near me or my child, I swear, I’ll kill her.”
Angel frowned. “Don’t be foolish, Lucky. This will be too much for you to take on. You can avoid all of this with a simple abortion. Why risk members of the cartel coming for you and your baby? Or risk my wife coming after you? It’s not worth it. I don’t want to see you harmed.”
Lucky placed her hands against her stomach and looked brooding. Angel didn’t take his eyes off of her; he was waiting for her to make the right decision. Right away, she was put into a difficult predicament—her baby or her continued business with Angel. She was making money hand over fist with him. She sighed heavily and said, “I’ll have the abortion.”
He smiled. “Wise choice. I want our business relationship to continue. You can have a baby some other day. But not with me.”
Angel realized that he’d dodged a bullet himself. His position in the Juarez cartel could have been jeopardized if it came to light that he had a half-nigger child. The Juarez cartel, like most illicit empires, also had legal businesses, and an heir could have legal rights. Angel made a mistake with Lucky three months ago, and it would be a mistake he wouldn’t make twice. Even kings can be dethroned, and in his case, they’d sooner chop his head off than have a half-black baby connected to the Juarez cartel.
Their evening together was ending. Angel was no longer in the mood to be intimate with her. He told her that it was best to keep their relationship strictly business and not to call him for social reasons.
Lucky agreed.
29
Bugsy told himself that he wasn’t going to go back there—to her home—but he did. He needed to see her again. One last time, he told himself. It was borderline stalking, but he couldn’t help himself. She was the only perfect thing in his life. She was once his sunshine and his muse, but now there was nothing. Bugsy stared at the dark and empty house. She had finally moved out. He had no idea where she had gone. He didn’t want to know. Alicia was now completely out of his life, but she was still in his heart. There would be no more visuals of her, only memories and nostalgia.
Sitting parked across from her home on the quiet suburban street, it was a world he thought about a few times—having a family of his own and regular living. Would he have given it all up for her? Was that even possible with his background and his family? A deep sigh escaped from him and he kept his feelings contained. There would be no tears or anger, just what-if’s.
While seated in the backseat of the Yukon, his cell phone rang. It was his sister calling. He wasn’t in the mood to speak to h
er. He had been trying to see her since he had spoken to his mother, but Lucky was always too busy for him. She was going her way and he was going his. He was hearing about Lucky a lot. Her name was ringing out on the streets faster than the wind could blow. His sister was a cold and calculating bitch. She had a great source somewhere, and Bugsy knew it was most likely an opposing cartel. So far, they hadn’t bumped heads.
She called again and this time he answered. It had to be important.
“What?” he asked roughly.
“I need to talk to you,” she said.
“I’m busy.”
“This is important.”
“Life or death?” he said.
“Just come by to see me right away,” she said in almost a demanding tone. “I really need to see you. I need your help.”
Bugsy could hear the desperation in her voice. Something was going on, and it had to be critical for her to call him during the night and ask for his help. She rarely needed his help. She was capable of handling her own and surviving in this game. Layla had taken her daughter for granted. Bugsy was smart enough to know that his sister was never to be underestimated. She was a beast, like him. But he was smarter than her.
“I’ll be there in about an hour,” he said. “Come to think of it, I need to speak with you too.”
“Life or death?”
He chuckled and hung up. Bugsy looked over at the vacant house one last time and then instructed Pluto to leave. For him, there would be no more harping on the past. Alicia was gone.
Two hours later, he arrived at Lucky’s new penthouse apartment on the west side of the city. Bugsy walked into his sister’s lavish place. It looked like something out of the Scarface film—gaudy, ornate furnishings, floor-to-ceiling windows with a scenic view of New Jersey, the Hudson River, the bridge, and beyond. Bugsy was impressed, but he hoped his sister was smart enough to know that everything had to be accounted for. It wasn’t the feds that they had to worry about most times, but the IRS. Everything needed to be legit—every penny, nickel, and dime—and she needed to have a reasonable income to explain her wealthy living. Despite that she’d come from a wealthy family, Bugsy knew that legitimacy was the key to maintaining. Without it, they would be living in a house of cards and the IRS and the feds could easily come in and knock it down. The West money was far and wide, and it was cleaned and legal. The company filed tax returns yearly, but Bugsy was the one behind the scenes putting all the pieces together. He knew business and he knew how to make money, from the streets to the boardrooms.
“Nice place,” he said to Lucky.
“Thank you,” she said.
She walked around in a silk robe and house slippers, diamonds dripping around her neck and wrist. The image of her reminded him of Layla. It was ironic.
“You got correct paperwork for everything?” he asked her.
“I’m not stupid, Bugsy. I know how to conduct business and explain my income,” she said.
“You and I are connected, so they come for you, they’ll damn sure come for me,” he said.
“I didn’t call you over here to criticize me.”
They stood in the center of her extravagant living room. Bugsy didn’t take a seat because he didn’t plan on staying long.
“What’s so important that you called me over here?” he said.
Lucky took a deep breath and locked eyes with him. She could tell him the news because she trusted him and knew he would be there for her. Meyer was recovering, but it was a slow show and Lucky’s life was moving on fast-forward.
“I’m pregnant,” she said.
Bugsy’s eyebrows shot up. “Pregnant?”
She nodded.
“How far along?” he asked.
“I’m in my second trimester.”
He looked at her and didn’t see anything that indicated her pregnancy. She slowly opened her robe to reveal her small baby bump. Though she was carrying small, it was there.
“Whose baby is it?” was Bugsy’s next question.
Lucky sighed and answered. “Angel Morales from the Juarez cartel.”
He couldn’t believe it. How did she get pregnant by that fool? The Juarez cartel was at war with the Garcia cartel. Javier Garcia was shrewd and lethal, and his little sister was pregnant by his adversary. It was a serious situation that could get very ugly.
“What the fuck, Lucky! Are you kidding me?” he exclaimed. “How could you be stupid enough to get in bed with our rival? You know we’ve got ties to the Garcia cartel!”
“It just happened.”
“What the fuck you mean it just happened? How do you accidentally get pregnant by Javier Garcia’s archenemy?”
“What more do you want me to say?”
“How about you start with how y’all met?”
Lucky decided not to tell the whole truth. Luckily for her, it was always hard for Bugsy to tell when she was lying.
“Our mother needed a connect, and the Juarez pipeline would have been a lucrative deal. But those racist, chauvinistic fucks don’t do business with women—said women are only good for pussy and carrying babies!”
“So you fuck him?” Bugsy felt something wasn’t adding up.
“It was one night, Bugsy. Damn, you act like I’m trying to be wifey.”
“The Juarez cartel is your connect and you’re fucking Angel to make sure it stays that way.”
“What are you talking about connect? I have no business dealings with that man. I shut it down.”
“You think I’m stupid?” Bugsy was incensed that she would lie to him. “You out on the streets making money moves, Lucky. Don’t play with me!”
“I’m not! And why are you yelling?”
Lucky started to get emotional. She averted her look from him; her eyes were ready to leak tears.
Bugsy knew by the heavy emotions and the poignant look on his sister’s face, that there was more. She wasn’t telling him everything.
“What the fuck else, Lucky? I know there’s more,” he said.
“Angel wants me to get an abortion. He warned me that if anyone finds out about my pregnancy with his baby, that they’ll come for me and kill me and the baby.”
“We can’t afford to go to war with the Juarez cartel, Lucky. There’s too much going on already. So, what are you going to do?”
She remained silent. She was thinking, but her hesitation already gave Bugsy his answer.
“You plan on keeping the baby, huh?”
“It’s my baby, Bugsy.”
“And does Angel know this?”
“I lied and told him that I would get an abortion.”
He sighed. “And he believed you?”
She nodded. “Nobody’s going to know anything. You and Angel are the only two that know about this. I’m goin’ to hide my pregnancy for as long as I can. And I’ll live my life in private. You didn’t even know I was pregnant until I told you.”
“So you got it all figured out, huh? It’s gonna be that easy?”
“Yes! My baby is gonna have the best of everything, from nannies and bodyguards. It’ll be my secret and no one else will know about my child.”
“And you believe that’s any way for a child to live—sheltered and in private, not knowing his family—me?”
“At least my baby will live! And it’s gonna have me around. And I will kill anyone before they harm me or my child,” Lucky said with a fierce look at her brother.
He sighed again. The room was growing thick with concern for his little sister, but he didn’t want to argue with her. He was going to be an uncle. Lucky really wanted to have this baby, and it wasn’t his right to tell a woman what to do with her body. But the concerns were major. She was running a drug empire, and being pregnant would be seen as weakness—and she could become an easy target. Bugsy understood this, even if she didn’t compre
hend the grave danger she had placed herself and those who loved her in. However, he would protect her life with his own. No harm would come her way as long as he could help it. But Lucky’s love life was an added aggravation that the West empire did not need.
Now that they were in the same room talking, Bugsy felt it was the right time to ask Lucky about Layla and what she did.
“I went to see our mother and she told me a story that you took everything from her. Where is everything, Lucky? Her personal things—pictures, clothes, furniture, and money? You surrendered the penthouse back to the management company?”
“Fuck her! She’s not my mother anymore. I’m done wit’ her. I put everything in storage because it was money wasted having that place sit while she’s locked away. I made a business decision to vacate it,” she said. “And if I told you what she wanted me to do you wouldn’t be on her side!”
“I know she wanted you to take the stand, and I told her she was fucked-up for that. Dead fucking wrong on so many levels. But you did this shit to her belongings before she had even crossed the line. Why?”
“I just told you why. To save money, that’s all.”
Bugsy suspected that she was lying; he needed to push. “We’re not standing on line at a soup kitchen. Don’t insult me.”
“You wouldn’t understand! She hurt me, Bugsy.”
“How?”
“She called me a dead-eye ugly bitch.” Lucky stared at her brother looking pitiful. Her low eye was something that she couldn’t come to terms with, and when someone you love and trust tells you you’re ugly, you believe it.
“You’re just as beautiful, Lucky, as you ever were. And believe me, I’m a man. I know. You have the most beautiful face I’ve ever seen. Don’t let Layla get under your skin. You’re stronger than that.”
Lucky nodded and then gave her brother a tight hug. She needed to hear someone say the word “beautiful” in the same sentence as her name.
They had more pressing things to talk about, and the issue of her pregnancy took precedence. Bugsy spent the majority of the night with his sister, talking and being there for her. They only had each other, because everyone else was locked down, dead, or in the hospital.
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