by Noire
“Look, if you want her father smoked, I’ll take his ass out. If you want me to bust up in that county office and set it on fire, I’ll burn that bitch down to the ground. I love my brother and I’ll do whatever he needs me to do. But Miyoko?” He shook his head and grunted. “No more of her ass. I don’t give a fuck what it costs us. I’m not dealing with that crazy chick no more. Not for love and not for money neither.”
Selah sighed, then cleared her throat. Suge had given up his entire life in the service of his family, and if he was done with the matter then she knew better than to push him.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “Nobody could have handled this any better than you did. We’ll just have to hit this from another angle. Maybe I’ll pay Wally a visit and see if I can reason with him. We were pretty good friends at one time. I helped him a lot when his wife was dying. Perhaps I can talk some sense into him. If not we’ll just have to find anoth—”
“Fuck all that talking,” Suge cut her off. “You can go see him if you want to, but if that fool don’t wanna act right before next Tuesday then I’ma have to roll up on him and choke his ass out.”
GiGi was lounging in the hot tub on the roof of a penthouse looking up at the Texas stars. She had on nothing but a bikini bottom as she tilted her head back and exhaled some Purple Haze through her nostrils. She was a wild girl at heart and loved working under the table. When she zoomed in on a mark she named her own price, picked her own jobs, and moved to the beat of her own damn drum. Her beauty and her brains were a lethal combination for anybody who was unlucky enough to get caught in her crosshairs, and right now she was watching her latest target as he stood near the edge of the roof drinking Hennessey and looking down at the city.
“Are you going to get in the hot tub with me?” GiGi asked as she stood up inside the hot tub. “Or are you thinking about jumping?” she giggled sexily. “I know you’re fly and all, but I don’t wanna find out if you can actually fly.”
Barron laughed as he made his way over to the tub swigging Hen-dog straight from the bottle.
“Naw, I’m not that fly,” he said. “I was just looking out there and thinking about how cool it must be for those who live a simple life. People tend to think that just because you have a lot of money life is sweet. They don’t understand the pressures of having to live up to a family name.”
“That’s very true,” GiGi said as she detected the stress in his voice. She passed him her weed nonchalantly, unsure if he would hit it, but happy when he did. “You’re the son of Viceroy Dominion and whether you like it or not, you’re going to have to carry the kind of weight that most people don’t understand. But that’s okay,” she said, her cool hands finding the tight muscles in his neck and pressing into them deeply. “I believe your shoulders are strong enough to endure it.”
GiGi stroked Barron’s neck, shoulders, and his ego as they drank and smoked together. And when she thought he was nice and loose she reached a little bit lower and let her fingers play all over his rock hard chocolate chest.
“Tell me a little bit more about your father, Barron,” she urged him in a sweet voice that sounded like warm vanilla syrup. “I mean, I’m so intrigued because you can’t help but admire a man as accomplished as he is, but for some reason I sense you have some issues with him.”
Barron took a big hit of the good weed and then let his head fall back into her lap as he exhaled the hot smoke. “I’m not that close to my father right now. Yeah, I love him and everything, but that dude’s got some real shifty ways about him.” He shrugged. “I know it’s the accident that has him acting so damn ill these days, but some of the stuff he says . . . I just can’t get past that shit. To be honest, I don’t even wanna work on this political campaign with him. I’m not sure he’s fit for office.”
Behind him, GiGi grinned as she gobbled that info up. “Yes, I read about his accident. It was just horrible. But in what way has it made him act differently? What is he doing that bothers you so much?” she asked lightly. “I don’t mean to probe,” she bullshitted, because probing was exactly what she was trying to do, “I just really want to understand where you’re coming from.”
Barron took a deep breath and shrugged. “It’s not one or two specific things. It’s damn-near everything. His ass was real ungrateful when he woke up. Disrepectful too. He started treating me like I was his bitch-ass flunky instead of his favorite son,” Barron confessed as he downed another shot of cognac. “Actually, for the first time ever he started treating me like I was actually adopted. As if I wasn’t good enough to handle the tasks that he had been grooming me for my whole fuckin’ life. I used to wanna be just like him, but now I don’t. I wanna be better than he is. In every fuckin’ way. I’m ready to blow this bitch be my own man.”
GiGi listened intently as Barron passed her back the roach of the weed. She took one last pull then flicked the burning ember into the pool and looked up into the night sky, pleased with where the conversation was going.
“He’s still your father, Barron.” She exhaled and tried to keep him going. “I know he loves you and cares for you, but with everything going on I’m sure things are confusing for him too right now.”
“Confused my ass,” Barron said as he glanced over his shoulder at GiGi. “He’s crazy, and I’m not gonna be used anymore by him or anybody else. One minute he wants me to be down on his team, and the next minute he’s talking to me like I’m some two-bit dick-boy instead of the son he raised and sent to college and law school. Like I said, I still love him and there was a time I would’ve walked through fire for him. But I think it’s time for me to do my own thing. And that’s gotta be separate from his thing.”
Barron tossed back the rest of the Henny in one gulp. He had drained the bottle and he was good and fucked up.
“Well,” GiGi said, stretching as she stood up in the hot tub, “I’m pretty sure whatever you decide to do baby, you will be the man at it!” She leaned forward and kissed his bare chest. “You’re an amazing person and I believe in you.”
“Yeah, thanks for hearing me out,” Barron said as he eyed her sexy-ass body. “But I’m done talking about Viceroy. Fuck him. Let’s go inside and see what we can fall into. I’m ready to make a splash, but not in that pool.”
GiGi giggled, knowing exactly what he meant. She snatched up her things and wiggled her ass seductively toward the entrance of the condo. Before she walked through the sliding glass door she turned around and looked at Barron.
“Are you coming?” she asked in a sexy tone.
“Oh, I’m definitely cumming.” Barron grinned and stumbled to the door to get him a hot slice of GiGi Molinex.
“Yeah, this right here is the real thing,” Ruddman declared with satisfaction as he studied the three sheets of paper that Zeke had slid out of his back pocket. “I had an expert check it out, and the stock transfer that’s on file with the county clerk, that one is a forgery.”
“I knew that shit!” Zeke exploded as he jumped to his feet. “My pops tried to tell everybody that shit and they called him crazy! He knew what he was talking about and I always believed he got cheated!”
“He got more than cheated,” Ruddman agreed as he sat with his arms crossed over his stomach. He had just confirmed what young Zeke had grown up raging about his entire life. That his father’s former business partner, Viceroy Dominion, had forged a set of documents and cheated his father out of a shitload of stock options that over time would have made the Washington family filthy rich.
“Your father got dicked, Zeke.” Ruddman jumped to his feet and yeasted him up. “He got ripped! He got ass-fucked out of a fortune!”
Zeke nodded, wild-eyed and furious. “I grew up my whole fuckin’ life seeing them muthafuckin’ Dominion kids flossin! That bitch-ass son of his is some kinda high-price lawyer riding around in a Maserati, and the other one ain’t nothing but a weed-head tricking off his old man’s money! I sold packs to that dude before! Even that lil skinny light-skinned one! Them niggas bee
n living my muthafuckin’ life! The life my father worked hard so that I could live!”
“And don’t forget that Dominion’s wife has been living your mother’s life too,” Ruddman added solemnly. “While your mother works her fingers to the bone cleaning public toilets in Houston for a living, Viceroy Dominion’s wife lives a life of luxury. That woman has never worked a job or gotten her hands dirty in her entire life. It just doesn’t seem right that she profited from her husband’s trickery and greed, yet your dear mother never got to profit from anything at all.”
“Ya damn right it ain’t fair, and trust me, that Dominion bastard is gonna pay for that! Word to the mutha, that dirty-ass cheat is gonna get his. He’s gonna give up some of that cash or get his wig twisted back! For real. You can bel’ee that!”
“Some of it?” Ruddman questioned. “He’s going to give up some of it? Why not all of it! Look, I called you here so I could help you, Zeke. Viceroy Dominion is a thief. He’s a liar and a fraud. But there’s a way to go after men like him and take them down. Believe me, I’ve fought against bigger and richer opponents than him and you don’t take them down in the streets, son. You take them down in the courthouse! You take your fight to the media. You fall back on the press. You file a lawsuit that exposes all of their slimy, underhanded business deals to the whole damn world. You file an injunction to freeze their assets and make a judge tell them bastards to hand you the keys to their multi-million-dollar mansions!”
“Damn right!” the boy shrieked.
“All you have to do,” Ruddman said smoothly, “is get with my lawyers and let them serve Viceroy with a lawsuit. Remember, the man who actually helped him rob your father has agreed to testify in front of the commission that your father was cheated out of what he was rightfully due. Once that happens, Viceroy definitely won’t make it to election day.”
Zeke gave him a side look. “I know, but I still don’t understand why the fuck would ya dude do something like that, though? His ass could go to jail too.”
Ruddman shook his head quickly. “Remember, he’s dying. He’s far more concerned about going to heaven than he is about going to jail. Listen, if you do what I tell you to do, Viceroy Dominion could take an immediate hit. If the commission moves quickly to disqualify him he’ll never even see election day. In fact, I guarantee you that once you take the steps I tell you to take, he’ll show his guilt by inviting you over to talk. He’ll offer you a settlement and try to get you to keep your mouth closed until after the election.”
“Oh yeah, and if he offers to tear me off some cream then what am I supposed to do?”
Ruddman looked at the dumb thug like he had a titty for a nose and shit for brains. “You take it, lil nigga,” he said. “If he offers you some money then you take that shit!”
“Hello Dy-Nasty,” Selah spoke into the phone after reluctantly accepting the charges from the Dallas County Jail. The girl had been calling her forever, and after receiving a bunch of letters from the facility she had finally decided to take her call. “What do you want?”
“Mama Selah,” Dy-Nasty blurted out to the woman that she had worked like a dog to double-cross. “Did you get all my letters?”
Selah frowned. Those letters, if you could even call them that, had been a hot mess. Dy-Nasty wrote like a first-grader, and Selah had been appalled at the childish drawings of a family of stick figures with big round heads and sad faces. The one that was supposed to depict Dy-Nasty always had a turned-down mouth, no nose, and tears pouring out of her eyes, and the scribbled caption beneath it would read something crazy like, “Are you still made at me?” or “Will you be my fren? Check the bocks Yes our No.”
Selah smirked. “Yes, I got them.”
“Okay, then. Since you didn’t write me back I’m not gonna run you no bullshit or beat around no bushes. I need to get outta here, Mama. I wanna come home.”
Home?
A look of indignation crossed Selah’s face.
“What in the world makes you think I would help you?” Heat rose in her as she remembered how she had tied her hair back and slicked her face down with Vaseline to get after the little ghetto troll. “In my opinion, Dy-Nasty, you’re a criminal and you belong exactly where you are. Behind bars.”
“Please, Mama Selah. Please listen! Didn’t you read all them letters I sent you? I said I was sorry, dang! I know I was wrong for the way everything went down and I ain’t tryna rehash no beef with you. But these females is real gutter up in here and I need your help. For some reason these people think I’m Mink! Damn near everybody on this block is itching for a piece of her and it’s gonna get real nasty for me unless I get ghost.”
“I still don’t see how that’s my problem.”
“I know it’s not your problem, Mama Selah, but if you help me get outta here I promise I’ll act right! I’ll give you your ring back and help you get back at fat-boy Ruddman! I swear I will!”
Selah went silent on the other end for a few moments as she contemplated the offer at hand. As much as she wanted Dy-Nasty to rot inside the deepest reaches of a jail cell, Selah also saw the value in having the sly little monster working on her behalf on the outside. And not to mention she wanted her goddamn ring back! Hell, if she was ever going to get back with Viceroy and sleep in her own bed then she needed that ring back!
“Okay,” she said finally. “I’ll think about it, and maybe I’ll pull some strings and see what I can do.” Then she warned, “But I promise you one thing, Dy-Nasty. If I decide to help you and you cross me again, I will have your ass buried in a graveyard instead of in a jail cell, do you hear me?”
“Yea, yea, yea! I hear you, Mama Selah,” Dy-Nasty said with a hint of an attitude. “I’m already in jail so you don’t gotta be so nasty!” she sniffed, sounding like she was about to cry.
“I’ll be more than nasty if you fuck with me again,” Selah said coldly. “I’ll be deadly. Now, try me if you think it’s a game,” she spit, then clicked off the phone and slammed it down hard on the table.
Standing in her wing on the other end of the line, DyNasty giggled. She didn’t even care that the boojie heffa had hung the phone up in her face. All she felt was relief at the thought that she was about to get a second chance to make some dastardly moves. But this time was gonna be different. She would be slicker and even more cunning. She would make better moves and deal from a slicker deck of cards. And this time she was gonna mark all of her trump cards and play them suckers just right.
CHAPTER 27
Viceroy was sitting at his desk in his huge office burying himself in his work. With his campaign winding down he was trying to keep his business in order by handling contracts, looking over emails, and going behind his accountants to make sure his money was right. Viceroy hadn’t made it to the top of the mountain by trusting other people to do what needed to be done. True, he had schemed his way into power, but he was also willing to hustle and grind harder than the next man to keep himself at the top.
He was shuffling through some files when his door flew open and he looked up to see his son Barron barging into his office.
“Don’t you know how to knock,” Viceroy said as an acknowledgment. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I taught your ass how to knock.”
“Dominion Oil is being sued,” Barron said as he slapped the paperwork down in the middle of his father’s desk.
“By who?” Viceroy asked. Barron had his attention, but he wasn’t overly concerned. “Which blood-sucking leech is coming after me this time?”
“Zeke Washington,” Barron said as he shook his head. He knew the potential danger there. “Earl Washington’s son. He’s claiming that you stole his father’s empire and he’s seeking restitution, damages, and an injunction against all Dominion Oil assets. And oh yeah”—Barron swept his hand over his face and rubbed the slight stubble of his beard—“if you remember, he also claims to have an original set of documents signed by you and his father that he says will prove his father was cheated out of a fortune.”
Viceroy never even blinked.
“I’m not worried about none of that,” Viceroy said. “So what, he filed a suit and has a couple of fake documents that won’t prove a damn thing? This isn’t the first time that old lie has been told. I’m much more concerned about what rock he crawled from under. What made him bring all this up now?”
“Honestly.” Barron shrugged. He hated to give his uncle Digger any props, but there was no other way to tell it. “I’m thinking Ruddman put him up to this. I didn’t tell you about it right away because I wanted to check it out first, but Uncle Digger claims he got the documents and the info from a source inside Ruddman Energy. And I believe him, too. This feels just like a slimy move orchestrated by that cat. Especially when you look at the timing with Wally Su and all. Yes, if I had to bet on it I would bet it was Ruddman.”
“Uh-huh,” Viceroy said as he spun around in his chair and thought about that dirty son of a bitch. He wanted to get at that bastard so bad it made his skin itch. Ruddman had some grimy tricks up his sleeve and Viceroy knew it was time to get in his ass and get his hands dirty.
“Contact young Zeke. Bring him here and let me talk to him. Maybe I can make Ruddman’s little lawsuit plan backfire on his ass. Maybe I can make him an offer he can’t refuse.”
A couple of hours later Barron pulled up in a stretch limo with Zeke Washington, just like his father had asked him to do. Zeke walked into the office with a scowl on his face, obviously wary about being snatched up and brought to the company he was suing in court.
“How are you doing, Zeke?” Viceroy greeted him in a booming voice. “I haven’t seen you in a long time, son. Please have a seat and make yourself comfortable.”