Mr. PK. 42 years old. Owner of Angel's bar in Detroit. No children. Two wives. Countless bitches. Angel's bar is known by their quality top shelf drinks, beautifully grilled lamb chops and last but not least , THE BITCHES. PK employed 80% of the women on Joy Rd, From Telegraph to Dexter. Angel's bar had it all. It was a one stop shop, for a good time with all the favors. He had a pool room, with a dice table inside the moderate sized room towards the back of the club. The bar was in front, all lit up with "Angel's" spray painted in a gorgeous design on the mirror behind the pricey liquor bottles. Upstairs were the bedrooms. This is where the 27 girls of the night would perform their sexual acts on any baller with long dick & fat pockets. 7 in all, 8 including PK's office which was at the very end of the hallway. The basement was the real party.
Nobody ever knew where PK came from. He kinda just set up the perfect stop in the hood. He was a Cuban. Dread head. Minor alcoholic. Drug kingpin. He started from the bottom and was now supplying 95% of Detroit and nobody even knew it. The basement held his safes, and a room especially for preparing shipments.
But PK wasn't alone in this game. He had Ania & Angel. Both beauties. PK often admitted that he loved Angel more because she was there through his struggle. Ania was just THEIR side pussy. She wasn't ugly by far. Ania stood about 5'10 157 pounds with the darkest skin And most beautiful brown eyes he'd ever seen. He fell for her and KNEW he had to take her home to Angel. She was happy when she saw Ania & showed it.
PK was a king. In his own world, making money and he was loving it.
Everything was perfect. Until the night Ania got caught stealing from the safe. She thought she had the perfect plan not knowing that PKs eyes never left the security cameras. He appeared at the top of the stairs as she struggled to stuff a few stacks around the waist of her tight True Religion jeans.
"Did you get enough?"
He asked. Closing the basement door behind him and descending the stairs. The look of shock and fear spread across her face like a plague. PK never took his eyes off of her.
"Ania. Did you get enough" he asked again, getting closer and closer to her with each word.
"En....Enough of wh...what?" She stammered with the dumbest look on her face.
PK stepped inches from her face and with one swift tug, ripped her Chanel blouse from her body and tossed it aside with precision. He looked down at her waistband, full of his money. At that moment, he'd lost it. He grabbed Ania's face with his hand and slammed it into the door of the safe.
"Bitch you stealin from me?!" He shouted.
Slam.
"After everything I've done for yo raggedy ass?!"
Slam.
"It's iight bitch! This the last time you gone ever steal" PK said, then proceeded to slam her head one last time. He could feel her skull crack as her body slithered to the floor. He collected his money from her waistband and spit on her body. He then summoned his homies to come and clean up his mess. After Ania died, he vowed that Angel would be his one and only.
He ran a tight ship, his club was under his control and he paid his ladies well.
..........
"Hello?" The voice said into the phone
"Umm, hi my name is Zya....Zya Finley and Rob told me to call you about the weekend express" Zya stated firmly but nervously as well.
"Oh hey! He mentioned you. Where are you now?" The voice asked her
"State fair grounds , I just got off the bus" she replied.
"Okay catch a cab and tell him to bring you to Angel's" the voice said before hanging up.
Zya waited for a while, her cab arrived and she was headed to Angel's.
......
"Zya...."
She peeled her eyes open and was faced with a blurry face. It was a mans voice.
"You're beautiful baby....Use it" the voice said before the blurry face became darkness....
......
"Ma'am....Ma'am wake up were here!" The Arabic driver shouted.
Zya looked around. She had drifted to sleep before arriving to her destination.
"That will be 38.30" he said, looking back at her. She pulled money from her pocket and noticed she was 20$ short. She looked up at the driver, who looked at her waiting for his pay. Just as she began to explain, someone tapped on the drivers window, handed him two crisp twenty dollar bills and opened the door for her to get out. She reluctantly stepped out of the cab And was faced with the most beautiful man she'd ever seen. He was about 5'11, caramel complexion with long neat dreads and tattoos everywhere. He wore a Versace track suit and Giuseppe Zanoti sneakers. He wore 4 gold chains, a huge watch, a few bracelets and the biggest diamond earrings she'd ever seen. She fell in love instantly.
"hi. I'm Zya" Zya said, extending her hand for him to shake.
He looked at her. She was 5'8, the color of a Hershey bar, slim built with hips & ass. He admired her eyes and the small scar above her lip. He liked what he saw as well.
He took her hand into his and kissed it softly.
"I'm PK" He said, never taking his eyes off hers.
" I think you might be a lil too hot for the weekend express. I wanna put you down for good" He said, spinning her around.
She laughed, blushed a little, and asked, "What's the weekend express anyway?"
"Just that. A weekend express. You stay here, all weekend, turn tricks. I pay you. You pay me. But I don't think I want you doing that. I got a special lil position for you" he said pulling her close.
Zya looked at him and saw the sincerity in his eyes. She knew he was sexy. She knew he had money on top of it. But she didn't know the backstory on this nigga. She relaxed into his arms and hugged him back. Before she could think, he'd lifted her head and took her lips into his. He kissed her sweetly and rubbed her back and waist as he did so. After a few seconds, he let her go, kissed her forehead and said,
"You mine now lil baby. Let's get this money" as he walked toward the entrance to Angel's.
Zya stood. Looking dumb trying to calm her pussy down from the kiss. She sighed, looked toward Angel's, said a small prayer of protection and went inside.