𝐆𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐈𝐈

By KYNDIOR

15.3K 1.9K 328

Continuation of the "Quicksand" city. More

Gove City II
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By KYNDIOR

𝘎𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘦
_______________

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘤𝘩𝘰 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘳𝘶𝘮𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘺-𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘯 with his wrists tied tight and secure behind the chair's backrest. Gaining consciousness, he groaned at the aching in his head and blood leaking out the wound.

He lifted his head, his right eye swollen shut, he saw the silhouette of a slender, hourglass figure approaching in a rich expresso hue fabric. He blinked his good eye clear and the woman's honey skin-tone became more clear. The dress accentuates tight on her figure and the underwire cups that creates an amazing peak of her cleavage with the halter neck ties. The sleeves sit off the shoulder and the extended cuffs that rest gently against her knuckles. The midi hem was floaty, moving gracefully with her strides.

The glossy, custom expresso brown leather, pointy-toe pumps boasts So Kate Christian Louboutin's stiletto heel on red soles and stopped directly in front of the battered man. His eye trailed up her five-foot-eight figure and to the face of the smirk-wearing beauty.

"Good; you're finally awake."

He recognized the woman immediately, chuckling quietly. "You the bitch I robbed the other day."

"That's...a fact and the same bitch I told you you'd see again. Surprise."

The woman's calm tone was chilling to battered man but he didn't saw it. His gaze darted around the space full crates and armed guards. There was no windows to view outside, so he was unable to see where he was. He ponders on who the woman was standing confidently in front of him.

"Where you have me?"

"Not very far from the desert... In Arizona." Genevieve tells the assaulted male that was unclear on how he ended up in a state thousand miles away. "Tyler Maxwell. . But better known to your fellow crew, EGK, as T-Bone. You might not know who I am, but I know exactly who you are. That night at the club; how'd you know I was there?"

"I don't even know who the fuck you are baby." T-Bone confessed to her honestly, "EGK, we rob. That's just what the fuck we do. I seen you witcha Gold and wanted it for myself, so I took it."

"More like I handed it to you, but.. tomato, tomato." Genevieve smiles, "You and your little EGK homies are bouta endure hell. Possibly even your whole EGK crew. Why, you're thinking. Allow me to introduce myself, T-Bone, I'm part of the reason you eat. I'm part of the reason you breathe," she inches closer to the battered male, leaning to his ear, "I'm Angle's Queen, baby."

Hearing the only name of the known plug that supplies EGK, the good-eye of the battered man eye widened in fear, breathing rapidly. "Hold on—"

"No reason to plead." Genevieve motions over the armed guard and he gives her the Glock by the butt of it. "You didn't know. Misunderstanding. It happens, right?"

"Y...Yeah. On the set, if I woulda known you was Angle's chick I woulda never done that. On my kids."

Genevieve smiles; the sound of a switchblade making the man flinch and the rope getting cut, freeing his wrists. He's confused, massaging his wrist as the guard freed his ankles as well.

The confusion deepens once the butt of the Glock was offered to him.

"Hmm; take the gun, Tyler."

      Although he was hesitant, T-Bone accepted the gun he stood up. "Now I want you to do what you done the other night. Point the gun at me." She instructed.

"Wha...Huh?"

"You bout it, right?" Genevieve pushed forward to him, "Point it. Or do you need a push to do so?"

On the spot, the guard lifted the heavy-duty weapon to Tyler.

"Does he need to pull the trigger, too?"

Unlike the other night outside, the EGK thug's hand shakes as his lifted the gun to her. "I think it was bout riiight here," she readjusted the aim to her forehead, "Now, if I wouldn't have handed you the jewelry, Tyler, what would you have done? Say I wasn't the Queen to your plug."

"I...I would shoot the person."

"So, shoot me." Genevieve urged, "You would've done it for anyone else."

". . I-I can't."

"You can't?" Genevieve chuckles, "Why must you need so much push to do; wit what you say is the EGK way—rob, shoot. 2510 NE Canning Way. Does that address sound familiar?"

"Don't touch my fucking Momma."

"I'll have my friend Moose blow her fucking brains out right now. Shoot, T-Bone!" Her yelling command echoed around the building and his finger squeezed the trigger and instead of a bullet coming out; it clicked.

Genevieve grinned, clapping her hands proudly. "Look at that, T-Bone! You actually do have heart. Too bad that lost you a hand."

Before he could question the last statement, a machete was slicing his hand off cleanly—the gun and his hand falling to the ground. Tyler released a blood curling scream as another guard walked up and covers Genevieve attire with a plastic covering.

"You disrespected me, T-Bone." Genevieve spoke over his screaming accepting the bloody machete the guard gave her. "Why a machete? I guess it's the Haitian blood in me."

Swiftly, the beauty swung the sharpened machete to cutting off the remaining of his right arm; his screams increasing even louder.

Genevieve laughs happily. "Whew! Haven't felt this run in a while. You don't even realize who the fuck you robbed, Tyler. But lemme thank you for bringing this side outta me again. Fore warning, I enjoy slow deaths."

      Genevieve lifted and swung the machete yet again and slicing off his full left arm this time. .



"𝘞𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘢 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘤𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘭?"

The sweet voice came out the large screen on the Bombarder Challenger 850 with Genevieve sitting the main cabin of the private jet. It was video call and Maleah took over the screen sitting upright in her bed. After the nightclub's robbery, Maleah showed Genevieve another place in her hometown where they can have privacy and talk.

Maleah showed her to a place they could be alone and her favorite spot to occupy was a 380-foot-long bridge that soars over an Interstate. They chatted until nearly sunrise with a great amount of Genevieve withholding truths about herself. With all Maleah knows is that Genevieve's a Consultant for a high profile architectural firm; which wasn't complete lies. Aside from her happiness with killing and bonded to the hip with Quinton, she was a smart multi-skilled individual and a consultant was one of her many job titles.

That career was the only one Maleah needed to know about.

"It was an amazing business deal," Genevieve responds with flashes of the machete cutting T-Bone's body apart. "Gladly we got it."

"Congratulations," Maleah grinned into the screen. "Wish I could send you a gift or something but you're all in the sky."

"I land soon. What're your plans today?"

"Work with Mother to go over our next project on Childs Realty & Design, grab some lunch with Casey and Val. You know, the homegirls I tried to introduce you to and you shut it down. Why you didn't want to meet them?"

"Because your homegirls aren't of any importance to me."

"I mean once I become important to you, what's important to me—"

"Isn't important to me." Genevieve interrupted with a chuckle, "I'm sorry. . But that's just me, gorgeous. I don't have friend's because I don't trust. Your friends are on that list. If they don't like me, so be it. I only want you."

"But—"

"Come stay with me tonight," she interrupted her, "We'll be on a whole other wing of the estate, so you'll be comfortable with my husband on the other side. Our chief housekeeper will whip us up something nice."

"Chief Housekeeper? Y'all rich as hell."

"Says the woman that grew up wealthy." Genevieve comments.

"Touché."

"So, I'll see you tonight?"

"Yeah. Let's do it." Maleah agreed before a pause symbol took over the screen. "This is my Mother. I'll see you tonight, have a safe rest of your flight."

The call disconnected and once the private jet lands, a town car awaits her arrival with Moose. She was driven to East OKC and walked down to the basement of a building where Quinton with a bloody white shirt from the maltreated thugs being held captive by Quinton's guards and those thugs and EGKs commander was present.

Her heel clicking got the men's attention. Genevieve walked up, "I assume these are the friends."

"Yup. . Ain't it, Dough?"

The couple looked over in unison to the head of EGK—a heavyset man in his early forties, Caiman "Dough" Harkens, who was looking at his battered crew. "Yeah. . I asked around and it was them. Nobody can find T-Bone—"

"And never will." Genevieve responded immediately. "I guess this would just be a lesson to your crew, Dough, and quite frankly, you as well. EGK's robberies have been unorganized and loud. I was just the one they shoulda watched and learned because then they would've knew I was one to not fuck with. So, now consequences of your little homies actions will take place."

"EGK losin' the North to 4ZiP5."

"Come on, Angle!"

"You'll still have yo actual side, the East, and for not keeping yo crew on a tighter leash it's a consequence for your action as well. My Queen is as important to me as my money is. So, Dough," the kingpin walked forward to crew leader and accepts a gun from the guard on the wall over, "You will do the honors of killing the three that lost you a major territory up North."

Quinton could sense the hesitation coming off the gang leader. "Either you kill them," he walked closer to Dough, "Or I kill you."

Dough looked into the dark, devilish gaze of the plug and swallowed nervously. He came across every kind of men in his lifetime, but he labeled the young kingpin the most cutthroat individual he ever came across in his forty-five years of living and this particular one has a partner equally ruthless. That is what made the gang leader take the gun from Quinton.

"I..." Dough cleared his throat, "I'mma do it."

"Of course you are, in front of me." Quinton patted Dough on the shoulder before going to stand beside Gen. "Well, don't leave us waiting, Caiman."

The gang leader walked over to his thugs as they beg for their lives behind their covered mouths. It pained Dough to even have to be put in the position to kill boys he watched grow up. But at that moment, it was his life or theirs.

Dough chose when he squeezed the trigger of the Glock-43 and killing the thugs he promised to protect.

Dough released a shaky breath. "A'ight it's done." he faces the couple.

      "You can hand the gun over to Moose." Genevieve instructed as their head-of-security walked over to confiscate the gun in a plastic bag. "Dough, you've been a great distributor since bringing operation to OKC and killing them might've been hard, but let's remember, you're still breathing air because of their blood. You lost the Northside; which is what I know is going to be a great lost to you and your crew's pockets. Now that's about to be extra money for your rivals, 4ZiP5."

Genevieve walked in his face, eyeing him coldly. "If I even hear a peep of your crew fuckin up and getting too much police attention, you won't have a crew and the next blood that will be spilled is yours. Understood?"

Dough swallowed, "Yes ma'am."

"Then all's well." Genevieve smacked his cheek softly, "Give a hello to your wife for me."

Genevieve rejoins Quinton, who covered his bloody shirt with his hoodie, and the two exits the basement with their security and into the town car. She was already handing him a bag to place his bloody shirt and gloves inside.

"How it go in Arizona?" Quinton questioned.

"Great. Don't have to worry about him anymore. But you know—"

"I know. We need to be lookin for a replacement for Dough." Quinton read her mind, "He gone feel some typ'a way bout havin to kill them and despite us having the murder weapon—"

"—that's not gonna stop him from dropping a dime to his connect at the police department." Genevieve finished.

"Dough notta snitch; but all it take is one incident to drop that moral. So, to stay ahead of it, I'll have my connect there to keep me posted on if Dough have any secret meetings wit Officer Boyd. But till then, we need to set up a meeting wit his second-in-command."

"I'll have Tonio set that up once he's back from India."

Quinton nods as his phone rung, pulling a clean shirt on before he answered it on speaker. "Dr. Anderson; hoping you gotta update for me."

"I could lose license doing this," the woman's voice spoke out the phone.

"Good thing you'll be paid a great amount for your risk."

The woman sighed, "She's five month and everything's still looking great. We screened for Down Syndrome today because she mentioned you have a brother with it. The results will come back in a week; two at the most. They're both growing healthy."

"Both? As in..."

"Twins, yes. A boy and a girl from what we found out today. In a few weeks Ms. Greene's moving to Arizona, which means that's where her next OB-GYN will be located. So by her next appointment—"

      "Yeah, I figured. 'Preciate it, Dr. Anderson. Enjoy the money." He hung up the call, "Twins."

"Twins." Genevieve exhaled, "So what're you gonna do now?"

"Try to sit down wit her and give a amicable agreement wit our attorneys. Hopefully it's agreed upon or I'll take a more drastic measure."

"Do you have a attorney in mind, or do I need to call Ricardo?"

"Na, he more criminal. I got one in mind." He smirked her way that Genevieve matched.

"Looks like it'll be a fun night wit the Weathers."







𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙 𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚟𝚎, 𝚎𝚗𝚍

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