Supreme Clientele

by Ashley Antoinette Snell

  Anari called herself Tony and began to hustle in Newark, New Jersey. While on the hunt for Shawna, her operation began to grow, causing her to step on the toes of Von, who already had New Jersey’s drug market on lock. He began to lose money, and put a hit out on Tony’s head. Anari’s true identity was concealed so well that he didn’t know that he had put a hit out on his own woman.

  He hired a thorough assassin named Boss Sparks, and it took him a while, but he found Anari and placed a bomb underneath her car. Von found out Tony’s true identity and was in disbelief. He was standing outside the car as Anari turned the key. He yelled for her to get out of the car and ran to snatch her out of it. The car exploded just as he pulled Anari from the car, but he was burned badly from the explosion. His right arm, chest, and neck had been burned, but both he and Anari were still alive.

  Anari knew that the fire was so big that it would have consumed everything . . . bones and all, so to everyone else, it appeared that they had died in the blaze. Von’s DNA was already at the scene from his skin being burnt so badly, so they fled the country together and left everything behind. Von had connections with different men across the country, and it was his idea to form Supreme Clientele, which Anari headed.

  “Damn,” Zya said in disbelief as she looked back and forth between Anari and Von. They on some Bonnie and Clyde shit for real, she thought.

  “You are the only person who knows the true story,” Anari said. “I hope I can trust you,” she added.

  “You can,” Zya said. Anari had been through a lot, and she finally understood why Anari was so careful about not being seen in public.

  “I think I’ve read a book about y’all. For real. It’s this book called Dirty Money by this dude and this one girl.”

  “Ashley and JaQuavis. They are good friends of ours.” Von said and nodded. “We paid them to pen the story for us. It’s authentic. They wrote it exactly how we told them, to make everybody who read it think that we died in the end.”

  Zya nodded her head. Damn, they got off, and now they can’t be charged for shit because it happened more than seven years ago. On paper, Anari and Von don’t even exist.

  Von got up and dropped four-hundred dollar bills on the table. “You ladies have a good time. I have some business I need to take care of.” He leaned over and kissed Anari lightly on the lips and then said, “The next time you come to town, I’ll have to show you how to do it up big for real.”

  “Sounds good,” she replied.

  “The next time you come to Miami, bring Snow,” Von added.

  “How do you know about Snow?” Zya asked in amazement.

  “I know everybody my woman deals with,” he said as he walked away.

  Zya and Anari finished their dinner and then gambled for the rest of the night. They didn’t leave the casino until one o’clock in the morning. They were drunk as hell as they made their way to Anari’s beach house.

  “Zya, I haven’t trusted anybody in a long time, but you are cut just like me. That’s how I know you are worth my time and energy,” Anari said as they made their way into Anari’s house. “For real. You are a thorough bitch! Stick with me and I’m gon’ take you places!” she yelled loudly.

  “Shh! You gon’ wake up your neighbors,” Zya said as she laughed at how drunk Anari was.

  “Neighbors? A bitch like me don’t have neighbors. I own this whole strip.”

  Zya looked up and down the street at the luxurious oceanfront houses that lined the block. They could easily cost a million a piece, maybe even more.

  “Damn, you own all this?”

  “Every single blade of grass,” Anari said as she opened the door to her house and walked in. The inside of Anari’s shit was plush as hell. Everything was computer operated. Even the sink faucets worked by voice command.

  “Damn, you really are untouchable,” Zya said.

  “So are you. You just don’t know it yet,” Anari explained. “That’s why our friendship should be valuable to you. You are good at this, but I can teach you how to be great at it.”

  “It doesn’t get any greater than this,” Zya said as she looked around Anari’s home. She couldn’t believe that she was actually chilling with Anari. It wasn’t on no business type stuff either. They were vacationing like they were friends.

  Anari sat down on her couch and put her feet up. “Zya, at the rate you are going, you are going to be bigger than me. There is only one way that could happen. Eventually, you are going to have to make a decision. I can’t keep you underneath my wings forever. You are either going to have to kill me to take my spot, or I am going to have to kill you to keep it. That’s the game, that’s how it goes. I know that your loyalty to me will be tested. One day, you will have to choose between loyalty and supremacy.”

  “If you are so sure of that, why am I here?” Zya asked.

  “Because right now I trust you. I’ll handle everything else when we cross that bridge.”

  Zya didn’t understand Anari’s logic, but she respected it. For the rest of the weekend, they developed a genuine friendship and understanding of each other. Zya knew that she was in good company, and couldn’t believe that she had moved to the top so quickly. She knew that if she let Anari school her on the game, she would eventually become one of the best players in it. Anari’s friendship was valuable and Zya knew it.

  On the last night in Miami, Zya and Anari stayed up until four o’clock in the morning, eating ice cream, sipping wine, and cracking up off of Jamie Foxx comedy shows.

  “I know I must like yo’ ass. I haven’t done this since my best friend died years ago,” Anari said. Zya knew that she had earned the trust and respect of the biggest member at the roundtable. Not only did Anari respect Zya, but she considered her a friend.

  Anari told Zya goodnight and faded into the master bedroom. Zya retired to the guest room to go to sleep. She was exhausted, and the liquor was wearing off, causing her a slight headache.

  Zya looked out of the bedroom’s patio and admired the Miami view. The whole city was before her, and it was beautiful. The city lights and the ocean are so beautiful. This is the life right here. One day I will be standing on my own patio with a clear view of nothing but water. That day may come sooner than later.

  “The world is mine,” she said in a low voice. Zya stripped out of all her clothes as she walked over to the king-sized canopy bed and flopped down, preparing to go to sleep.

  Just before she completely nodded off, Zya she saw something sweep past her patio window. She instantly jumped up and became suspicious. What the hell was that? Zya thought as she began to search for her gun. Zya, without any clothes on, crept slowly to the patio window with her gun drawn. Her heart pounded in anticipation as she tried to find out what or who brushed past her window. Zya was ready to light up whoever was creeping on her. She counted softly, preparing to shoot whoever she saw outside the patio. She leaned her back against the wall beside the window and held her gun up.

  “One . . . two . . . three!” she whispered as she swiftly stood into clear view and looked onto the huge patio. What she saw was not an intruder. Anari had on a silk robe that was completely open, exposing her naked body. She was sprawled out on the table on the patio with her legs completely separated. Von’s face was buried into her vagina, pleasing her.

  Zya slowly lowered her gun and let out a sigh of relief. She put her hand on her chest and felt her heart racing. Zya couldn’t help but to look back at the two on the patio. They had no idea that they had an audience. Zya peeked out of the window, standing out of visible sight, and continued to watch.

  Von flipped Anari over, and she was on all fours on top of the table. Von stood behind Anari, preparing to enter her. Zya couldn’t take her eyes off of the escapade. She felt wrong for looking, but it was turning her on. Von’s naked, bronze body was lean and muscular, and his ass muscles flexed as his penis searched for Anari’s kitty cat. She watched as Von’s long, thick penis went in and out of Anari. He reached over Anari an
d began to play with her clitoris as he made love to her. It was like nothing Zya had seen before. He was taking his time, trying to please his woman. Von moved his hips in perfect unison with his fingers on Anari’s clitoris. Every time he entered Anari, he kissed the back of her neck.

  “Damn . . . ooh,” Zya whispered as she watched closely. Zya’s hands, without her consent, managed to make their way down to her clitoris, and she imagined that it was her getting broke off on the patio. She rubbed her clitoris and then she entered two fingers inside her warm and wet vagina. Every time Von went into Anari, Zya’s fingers entered herself. Von didn’t know it, but he made love to two ladies that night.

  “Oh,” Zya whispered as her legs began to quiver, almost causing her to fall. Not even sixty seconds later, Zya exploded, and her juices dripped onto her toes. She felt bad for watching them have sex, but it was like a guilty pleasure. She couldn’t wait to return home to Snow so she could get hers. Zya staggered over the bed, completely satisfied, and sleep like a newborn baby.

  Chapter 13

  Addicted

  Lonnie Wade woke up to a strange woman lying naked in his bed. He sat up in confusion and looked down at himself in disgust as he discovered the vomit that was covering his clothes. Fuck! he thought as he tried to remember the events that had taken place the night before. From the looks of things, he knew that he had brought a girl home with him last night. What he couldn’t remember was if he had worn a condom.

  Damn, I hope I strapped up. I ain’t tryna fuck around and catch something from one of these New York hoes, he thought.

  He examined the filth that had accumulated in his downtown apartment. There were empty Hennessy bottles everywhere, and the place reeked of liquor and weed. Lonnie had always been a social drinker, but after the murder of his cousin Tiffany, he became indulgent and began to drink heavily. He had seen a lot of murders and had worked a lot of cases as a police officer, but the day that he was called to the scene of his cousin’s murder was the same day that his work began to fuck with him. Tiffany’s death had hurt him because they had been so close. He began to drink and smoke heavily after her murder, and his habits affected his work.

  Detective Lonnie Wade had been hired into the department because of his ability to get the job done. He graduated at the top of the police academy and was good at what he did. His thuggish appearance and nature didn’t change once he put on his badge. He had been born and raised in Brooklyn’s Pink projects, and his environment was one of the things that put him above the rest of the rookie cops on the force. He quickly excelled in the department. He stood out because of his ability to go undercover. He was a hood nigga who happened to be a cop, so it was nothing for him to change faces and play a drug dealer to make a case. His cornrows and thuggish demeanor were what the department hated the most about him, but those were the same qualities that enabled him to do a good job and close cases.

  After Wade was called to the scene of his cousin’s murder, he grew an “I don’t give a fuck” attitude and disregarded the procedures of the precinct. He had been reprimanded more than once for using unnecessary force when subduing a suspect, and had also been warned about his drug and alcohol use. Lonnie Wade became a tyrant on the streets. He did what he wanted, to whomever he wanted, when he wanted, because he had a badge that said he could. He was an asshole, and was on thin ice with the police commissioner. NYPD had been forced to settle a couple of civil suits because of Wade’s renegade tactics. He had become a loose cannon, and even though he had once been a good cop, his recent actions had forced the department to take action.

  I was close. I was so fucking close to getting a good case on Anari. Zya Miller was my way in. With her telling me what was going on during the Supreme Clientele meetings, I would have been able to bring them down.

  Wade took a shot of his cognac straight from the bottle then threw it across the room out of frustration. I’m so close to making the case of my life. He stood up and felt the room spin beneath him. He was fucked up, and had been for almost three months. Lieutenant Jones had suspended him on paid sick leave after finding Wade passed out in a squad car with an ounce of weed and a couple pints of Henny.

  “Don’t walk your sorry ass back through these doors until you’re clean,” the Lieutenant had screamed at him. “Your sorry black ass is a waste of God-given talent. You have all the potential in the world, but you are too busy screwing your life away to use it!”

  Lonnie Wade knew that his boss was right, but instead of getting his shit together, he took two steps backward by giving in to his habits. He didn’t care about the suspension because he figured, Shit, I ain’t on the clock no more. I can do what the fuck I want to and get paid for it. Wade was deteriorating fast, and it wasn’t until now that he began to realize that he was throwing his life away.

  “Wake your ass up,” Wade said as he smacked the girl lightly on the ass then laid back down with his body half hanging off the bed. The girl stirred and tossed and turned as she pulled the covers up above her head.

  “Get the fuck up and get your clothes on,” Wade said with his eyes closed. The girl sat up and rolled over on top of Wade. Wade gagged as she pushed the air out of his lungs. He leaned over the side of the bed and hurled right onto his hardwood floor.

  “Ughhhh,” he yelled loudly as the alcohol began to come up in large amounts.

  Oh, shit. I promise I won’t ever drink again, just please ...

  “Ughhhh,” he heaved as he tried to control the convulsions of his stomach. “Oh, shit!” he yelled loudly as he rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. The girl was staring at him with a look of disgust plastered on her face.

  “Bitch, what you looking at? Put on your clothes and bounce,” Wade yelled. The girl smacked her lips and hopped out of bed.

  “Nigga, fuck you. You ain’t nothing but a drunk. As a matter of fact, you can lose my number,” she spit out as she quickly put on her clothes.

  Wade was in too much pain to talk. He stuck up his middle finger, and the girl picked up an empty liquor bottle and threw it at him before she stormed out screaming, “Fuck you!”

  Lonnie closed his eyes and shook his head from side to side. Things had been bad before, but they had never gone this far. Wade knew that he had a problem. He had a serious alcohol and weed addiction. He was living a reckless and fucked up existence. He had always known that, but the fact that he maintained his job at the precinct soothed his soul. He loved being a cop, and even when everything else in his life was fucked up, he knew that his job would always be there. Now that his job was on the line, he felt lost and foolish. His behavior was putting him in jeopardy of losing the one thing that mattered most to him, and that was his badge. His badge kept him sane and let him know that he was needed in this world. He had always prided himself on being a good detective, but his frequent and abundant use of substances was affecting his career in a negative way. He wanted more than anything to find his cousin’s killer, and he knew that if he nabbed Anari, her conviction would be the case that took his career to new heights.

  “I got to get myself together,” Lonnie stated to an empty room. He could smell the liquor seeping out of his pores, and his tongue was dry from all the weed he had been smoking.

  His apartment was a mess. There were soiled clothes from his many hangovers lying all over the place, and trash was scattered all over the floor. “I’m gon’ get my shit together,” he said as he tried to sit up. He got up and maneuvered his way around the cluttered floor and into the kitchen. His stomach felt like it was riding its own personal rollercoaster, and his head was banging from the dim light shining through the blinds of his apartment.

  Damn, I’m fucked up. Lonnie finally made it to the refrigerator and opened it up, hoping that he had something to settle his stomach. The refrigerator was dirty and bare. The only items inside were a bottle of ketchup, some spoiled milk, and a box of baking soda.

  Wade slammed the door closed and took off toward the bathroom as he felt hi
s stomach threatening to erupt again. He just made it to the toilet when he threw up, and felt the most excruciating pain of his life. He noticed that blood began to appear in the toilet boil. What the fuck? he thought as he continued to throw up. His vomit changed from clear to red as more and more blood continued to come up. What the fuck is wrong with me? he thought as he got up and staggered into his bedroom. He had heard that drinking destroyed your liver, but Wade hadn’t thought that he was at risk. He didn’t actually realize how much liquor he ingested. He never thought he was a drunk, only that he needed to slow down.

  Fuck. I need to slow up on this shit. Something ain’t right. Wade lay down in his bed and closed his eyes, trying to stop the headache that was causing excruciating pain behind his temples. I need to see a doctor, was the last thought that crossed his mind before he passed out from the pain of his intoxication.

  Jules walked away from the prison with a smug expression plastered on his face. He mugged each guard as he walked by. His lawyers had finally come through, and his appeal had been granted. The one thing on his mind was getting to Zya. He had been thinking about getting to her ever since he discovered she had played him. Grimy-ass bitch. She gon’ get hers, he thought as he walked toward the gates, where Amir was waiting to pick him up.

  “What’s good, baby? You finally out!” Amir yelled as he slapped hands with Jules and embraced him in a quick hug.

  “Hell yeah. That mu’fuckin’ cop thought he could keep a nigga down just because I had to do a bid. He got another thing coming, cuz I’m back, baby. I’m about to be back on top,” Jules said.