Mafioso [Part 2]
Page 20
Scott stood in front of her dressed sharply in his three-piece suit. He was shocked to see that Maxine was free from prison and in his home with his wife. Layla had never mentioned that she was home. What scheme was his wife brewing?
Scott couldn’t take his eyes off Maxine. After all these years, she was still a stunning woman.
“What’s going on here?” he asked.
“As you can see, we have company,” Layla said.
“When did you get out?” he asked Maxine.
“A few months ago,” she said.
Maxine didn’t expect to see him, but there he was, her former boyfriend, the man who took her virginity, and the man who’d told her to take the fall for Layla. He was still handsome, but more distinguished and rich. There was a tone of power and arrogance about him. She’d always wondered what she would do when she saw him again. What she would say to him? How would she react? Now her chance came, and she was just silent. And though they didn’t speak, there was intense eye contact.
Layla immediately picked up on it. She interrupted the moment by asking Scott, “What’s goin’ on in New York? Where are my kids?”
“They’re fine,” he responded curtly.
“I don’t believe you. You show up out the blue in the night. What is really goin’ on, Scott?” Layla stood between Scott and Maxine, breaking up their moment.
“You wanted me here. Now I’m here. I need a fuckin’ shower. It’s been a long day,” he said, walking away.
Layla stood there stunned with everything suddenly happening. She didn’t know what to expect from Scott. But she wasn’t a fool. Her intuition told her he came to Florida for a reason, and it wasn’t to see her. Something had happened. He wasn’t telling her what it was. Her concern was with her kids, especially Lucky.
“It’s getting late. I’ll go to bed,” Max said.
With Scott home, Layla didn’t want Maxine anywhere inside the house. The look Scott gave Maxine was unsettling, and Layla didn’t trust him or Maxine. Was it a coincidence that Scott showed up while Maxine was visiting? Layla wasn’t sure, but her husband had something up his sleeve.
“You’re not stayin’ here,” Layla said.
“Where do I sleep?”
Layla went to get a set of keys and tossed them to Maxine. “Here, they’re the keys to Meyer’s house. He’s not using it anytime soon. Feel free to enjoy it.”
Max didn’t argue with her. She took the keys. She knew the reason Layla wanted her gone from the main residence. Scott’s unexpected arrival was a game-changer.
“Good night,” Max said.
Layla didn’t respond. She quickly pivoted and marched toward the master bedroom to continue her conversation with Scott.
Max left the house and walked across the compound and entered the house that Layla had built for Meyer. The interior was stunning, and the décor was riveting. It was breathtaking, with the crystal chandelier above the room, a spiral staircase leading to the four bedrooms above, marble flooring below, an opulent fireplace, and a skylight in the living room.
Max toured the home, and it was paradise, but she was there for other reasons. Being alone in the house allowed her to investigate what Layla was hiding in Lucky’s garage. It was late, and she knew Layla would be too preoccupied with Scott to care what she was doing. She threw on some sweats and a T-shirt, and like Bruce Lee in Enter the Dragon, she crept outside to look around the complex.
During their drinking time together, Layla had loosely mentioned things to her she probably didn’t mean to. She had mentioned that each alarm code was the date of birth of each child. Max went to the three-car garage at Lucky’s house and punched in the code. It deactivated the alarm system. Max couldn’t believe her luck.
Carefully she lifted the garage door and slid inside. She then shut the garage door to remain unnoticed. Inside the garage, she saw the steel drums. She counted ten drums, and they were all stacked neatly on the pallet. The drums were the only thing inside the garage besides a decked-out workshop area. Curiosity got the cat, and she opened one of the drums carefully with some tools from the workshop area. The lid came off, and what she discovered inside blew her mind. Bundles of shrink-wrapped money were stuffed into the drum. She figured it had to be in the millions. And with nine more drums, she thought there had to be maybe tens of millions inside the drums.
Max was floored and overwhelmed. “Oh shit,” she muttered.
Max had the urge to take some for herself, but it was too risky. With that large amount of cash, Layla most likely had some security measures in place. Then it dawned on her. Shit! Security cameras could be watching me right now. Max looked around for cameras inside the garage and didn’t see any. But just because they weren’t visible didn’t mean they weren’t there. She placed everything the way she found it, grudgingly placing the large bundle of cash back into the drum, and exited. If Layla knew she was ever there, it would create problems for her. She needed to stick to the plan and stay focused. But that greed to take money from Layla had been planted inside of her, and she wanted to take it all.
***
Scott stepped out of the shower, toweled off, wrapped the towel around his nakedness, and went into the adjacent bedroom to find Layla sitting there and waiting for him to finish. He was surprised to see her seated on their king-size bed like a statue, her full attention fixed on him. It didn’t bother him. He remained nonchalant.
“What is it that you want?” he asked her.
“What’s goin’ on? Why are you back in Florida? After what you told me in New York, go be wit’ your fuckin’ whore. I don’t want you here,” she hissed, her face twisted into a frown.
He chuckled at her comment. “You’re cute!”
“Fuck you!”
“Is that what you want from me, Layla? A good fuck?” He moved closer to her and stared at her strongly. “I haven’t fucked you in quite a while.”
He stood close to her, his body fit and lean, his abs showing, and his chest protruding. “You miss me?” he asked.
She frowned. “I hate you!”
He laughed and dropped the towel to the floor, revealing himself to his wife.
She didn’t budge. She didn’t care for the dick anymore, although it was imposing and lengthy.
“This is what you want from me, right? Some dick.”
She jumped up and pushed him away. “Tell that bitch to go fuck you, because I’m tired of your shit. I’m tired of you treatin’ me like I’m not your wife. You have the audacity to threaten my life for that bitch!”
Scott kept his cool. He knew Layla would be a headache tonight, and he was in no mood for her shit. He didn’t want the pussy that badly.
They argued briefly.
“You know what? I’ll be in the other room. Go fuck yourself.” He marched off.
Layla stood there dumbfounded. She did her best to hold everything together. With Scott home, it thrust her emotions into turmoil again. How often would he have to disrespect and embarrass her for her to get the hint? She wanted him, but he couldn’t have his cake and eat it too. She didn’t want to share her husband, especially with Penelope. Her chest heaved in and out from anger and frustration. She struggled to regain her composure. The nerve of him, taunting her with sex because he was horny. There were numerous times when she threw herself at him and he rebuffed her advances like she was gum stuck on his shoe.
She went to bed angry, but she couldn’t sleep. Scott was heavily on her mind. It was ironic that she didn’t want to be alone in Florida, and now she had Scott and Maxine with her.
Hours went by, and it was nearing dawn, and Layla still lay awake. She did her best to fight the urge, but she couldn’t take it anymore. She removed herself from the bed and left the master bedroom and found herself in the room where Scott was sleeping naked. She was naked too, and she crawled in bed with him and planted kisses agai
nst his bare chest.
Scott took his wife into his masculine arms and stared at her smugly, his eyes saying, I knew you would come sooner or later. They kissed passionately, and he tossed Layla onto her back and spread her legs forcefully before thrusting himself inside of her, his width stretching her walls, his length roaming deep.
She pushed him off her and straddled him, squeezing him between her thighs and gyrating her pelvis, wanting to give him something powerful and unique to remind him how good it was. She moaned and groaned softly. She missed the feeling. Oh, how good he felt. His hands squeezed her breasts, as he rotated his hips between her thick legs, letting his dick caress her clit. He pulled her to him and snaked his tongue between her moist lips and slid it around inside her mouth.
“Ooooh! Ooooh! Oh shit! Scott . . . Scott . . . fuck me!” she moaned faintly.
He flipped her on her back. The dick was taking her places she hadn’t been for a while. She closed her eyes, and her manicured nails traveled down the length of his back. Her legs were upward and pushed back toward her shoulder, as she took his big dick in the twisted missionary position.
“I’m gonna come!” she announced, huffing and puffing.
And soon she came.
But it was only the beginning. Scott wasn’t done with her yet. There was round two and three, and an hour later, Layla felt depleted. Scott done fucked all the sex out of her, but she wasn’t complaining. For a moment, she felt happy.
The next morning Scott was up early, walking around the bedroom naked and holding a conversation with Penelope on his cell phone while his wife was lying on the bed a few feet away. She wasn’t sleeping. Her eyes were open with her back turned to him, and she heard everything he was saying. Just like that, he made her feel dirty and used. Why did she fuck him? Why did she give in so easily? She knew he wasn’t leaving his mistress. She was upset, but she lay there quiet. She wanted to jump up kicking and screaming at him, but why give Penelope the satisfaction of hearing them argue? So she remained silent and pretended to be asleep.
38
Lucky climbed out of the Mercedes-Benz and stared up at her mother’s new real estate development. It was magnificent. She was blown away by the houses on the property, passing through the large Victorian-style black-and-gold toned cast iron entrance and seeing the large marble fountain at the threshold.
Lucky wasn’t in Florida for a vacation. She had a bone to pick with her mother. Her lawyers had worked everything out via litigation, and when the chance came, she hopped on a private jet and flew to Florida.
She ascended the stairs looking fabulous in a short black beach dress and a pair of strappy heels. The staff removed her bags from the car, and she marched into the large mansion on a mission to set her mother straight.
Immediately, Lucky was rude toward Max, the word bitch spewing from her mouth a half dozen times. Max kept her cool and allowed the disrespect, wishing Wacka and his goons had done more disfigurement to her face.
“Ma, we need to talk now . . . in private,” Lucky said, like she was the one with authority.
She and Layla retreated into another room. Lucky closed the door, and right away she spoke her mind. “Are you crazy? Why is that bitch back here? And then you have Daddy here too? Ma, tell me you’re not that stupid.”
Layla scowled at her daughter’s harsh choice of words. “First of all, I know what I’m doing. And, besides, your father isn’t worried about her. He’s too obsessed with tryin’ to repair this marriage and keeping Penelope happy. He wants the best of both worlds.”
“Are you fucking crazy?”
“You know nothing about marriage,” Layla said. “I’ve been with your father for over twenty-somethin’ years—longer than you’ve been alive—and to simply let him go is not that easy. But just because I can’t let him go, it doesn’t mean I still can’t let him pay for his shit.”
Layla mentioned to Lucky the money she’d taken from her father—fifty million dollars in hardcore cash. She told her not only about it, but she also took her to the garage and showed it to her. Lucky was in awe. Layla explained what the money was for, and how long she’d been hiding it.
Lucky told her, “Ma, you need to move this money.”
“I’m already planning to do so.”
Lucky saw that her mother, though still in love with her father, wasn’t a complete fool.
Layla told Lucky that if her father didn’t dump Penelope right after she gave birth to that bastard boy or girl and bring his black ass back home for good, then she would divorce him, start her own organization, and use the money to hire her own goons with allegiance to her and not Scott.
Lucky liked the plan, except for it being still contingent on her father’s move.
39
Thanksgiving!
The entire West family traveled down to Florida for a holiday, and Max was included in the festivities. Bit by bit, she was implementing her plan of getting in close with the family, knowing the in-and-outs of their organization, and having Layla trust her fully. She continued feigning innocence and hiding any hatred toward the family. No one was any wiser about her role in the gangland murders of their family members, and Max wanted to keep it like that. She’d started killing off the children; now she wanted to rob them blind.
Meyer and Bugsy came down together, so Max stayed in the main house with Layla and Scott. Layla wasn’t ready to have anyone stay in the homes of her slain children. Meyer brought Lollipop with him, and Bugsy brought Alicia. Lucky was alone. She didn’t mind. She didn’t miss Whistler. He was old news. But she had something to celebrate for the holidays—her drug case had been dropped. Her lawyers did a wonderful job with filing motions, and eventually getting the case dropped. That burden of doing time in prison had been lifted from her.
Thanksgiving was supposed to be a special time of the year, a time for the family to come together and feast. The cooks and the staff prepared a wonderful meal for the house, from a giant turkey that could feed an entire village to numerous side dishes like macaroni and cheese, collard greens, shrimp, and caviar.
It was the first time that Layla introduced Maxine to her twin boys, Bugsy and Meyer. She introduced Maxine as “Auntie Maxine,” which disgusted Lucky.
Bugsy was the only one who smiled and greeted her with a hug and a kiss on her cheek. He was pleased to finally meet Max. He’d heard what she had done for his mother twenty-three years ago, spending time in prison for a crime she didn’t commit. She didn’t snitch. She kept her mouth shut. In Bugsy’s eyes, she deserved some respect for it.
Maxine was thrown off by Bugsy’s hospitality. It made her question her revenge against the children. She had waged war against the children who were blameless. Funny thing though. Looking at the smart, charming, and handsome Bugsy with his educated and sweet girlfriend, Alicia, Max was actually glad he was still alive.
Meyer was a different story. He stood aloof and cold toward Max and didn’t smile or greet her warmly. He wasn’t rude and vulgar toward her like Lucky, but his eyes revealed that he didn’t care for her. He didn’t even shake her hand. And his date, Lollipop, was just as dismissive toward her. Max noticed that the twins’ attitudes were reflected in their dates.
Thanksgiving dinner went smoothly. Everyone feasted on the large meal prepared by the staff. There was no argument and no offensive distractions, although there was tension at the table, particularly toward Maxine and Scott.
After dinner, Meyer pulled his mother to the side, and though she was still sour about his defiance, Meyer had her ear. Away from everyone, he voiced his disgust about Maxine. He thought it was foolish to have her under the same roof as his father. He didn’t like her, and he didn’t trust her. But Layla didn’t want to hear it, saying they had more pressing issues to deal with than to worry about Maxine. She assured him that Max was harmless.
“She’s an institutionalized fool. A scared rabbit
afraid of her own shadow. I know Maxine. She would rather gnaw off her own foot than to fuck wit’ me over Scott.”
Lucky still wasn’t speaking to her father. She hated how Scott treated her mother like shit and had slapped the shit out of her over his whore—a bitch who was just a couple years older than her. During dinner when Scott tried to talk to his daughter, she ignored him. But her childish actions didn’t faze him. He smirked, figuring she was still a kid.
***
It was another steamy night for Layla with her husband. She straddled him on the king-size bed and felt his firm erection fill her pussy completely as he thrust upwards into her. Layla didn’t want it to end. She kissed him lovingly, her body forgiving him. Her mind wasn’t as forgiving; it still felt marred by his unfaithfulness.
She panted in his ear and gave into him entirely, feeling her body about to orgasm against him. “I love you,” she said, breathing heavily into his ear.
***
Thanksgiving with the family was long gone. Meyer and Bugsy were back in New York and Delaware handling business, and Lucky was out and about, putting her life and business back together after her arrest and Whistler’s betrayal.
With Penelope nearing her due date, it was becoming more difficult for Scott to have sex with her the way he wanted to. So he stopped having sex with her completely and spent more of his time in Florida, having sex with his wife. Layla was more eager to please him.
But Scott was also thinking about Maxine. When the chance came, he would steal looks her way, watching her closely and knowing something was different about her. Although she still appeared sweet and naïve, her eyes had hardened. He was aware that her stint in prison had changed her. Now Maxine looked to be a mixture of Penelope and Layla—a perfect combination in his eyes.
For Florida, it was a chilly night. The wind from the ocean blew steadily, and the full moon played peek-a-boo, weaving in and out of the clouds. The Maybach pulled onto the compound and stopped in front of the sprawling mansion. Scott was returning to Florida from another New York trip. He stepped out of the Maybach but hesitated to proceed. Instead, he told the driver to leave, and he pivoted and walked toward the home he knew she would be in. He wondered, though, why Layla would keep her there around him, tempting him like this. Regardless, he wanted Maxine tonight, and he was determined to have her.