𝓒HAPTER SIXTEEN.
Life Is A Masterclass In Uncertainty. The More We Learn, The More It Throws At Us. Sometimes, Not Knowing Is A Blessing, & Taking Risks Can Be A Double-Edged Sword. In The End, The Safest Path May Be To Cherish The Bliss Of Ignorance.
- 𝒥uan Collins
𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐈 | VOLUME ONE.
❝ I'LL BE SEEING YOU ❞
[ HARLEM, NY ]
The persistent calls echoed from a considerable distance, the bustling activity of people walking and talking signaling a busy day. The surroundings indicated that everyone was engaged in their work, grappling with cases looming over them and new ones constantly emerging. The buildings housing the attorney and federal prosecutor offices were always in a state of activity. Meanwhile, Angela Cruz maintained her focus within her own office. Seated in her chair with her feet on the desk, she pondered how everything had unfolded, idly playing with a pencil in her hand. Reflecting on whether separating Wayne from Emauni was the right decision, she wondered about Emauni's potential treatment in foster care—whether it would be miserable or reasonably decent. Despite the guilt creeping in, she acknowledged the truth that she was getting closer to what she wanted: eliminating Wayne. At this point, it wasn't personal, given their past affair. Instead, she aimed to create a better scene in New York by dealing with each kingpin in due time.
A knock disrupted her contemplative thoughts, prompting Angela Cruz to lift her feet off the table and assume a professional demeanor. Upon opening the door, she found Wilson Cooper, her esteemed colleague in the field of federal prosecution, standing there. "Sorry to interrupt, but you might wanna come take a look at this." Wilson interjected as he opened the door, signaling that something important was happening. Angela swiftly rose from her chair, joining Wilson as they walked out of her office. He led her to the main office where everyone in their field gathered to discuss their thoughts or uncover potential leads. "What's going on?" Entering the meeting room, Angela's gaze surveyed the surroundings, taking note of the presence of Shawn Andrews, an attorney, and Terrence Brown, their FBI agent. The quartet had been assigned to the case of New York's King Pins, working together to unravel the power dynamics and apprehend each figure in the criminal scene.
In a predominantly male field, Angela stood out as the only woman, holding a high-ranking position in the building. Despite being in her early twenties, her beauty was unmistakable. With plump pink lips, a beauty mark near her upper lip, captivating cat-like eyes, and long, jet-black hair styled into bangs, she exuded sophistication. Colleagues like Wilson Cooper, a tall and handsome Australian man in his thirties, had a history of working closely with her on numerous cases, maintaining a professional demeanor amid their shared experiences. Wilson harbored deep feelings for Angela, evident in his attempts to move beyond the professional realm. Despite his affections, Angela maintained a strictly professional relationship with him, keeping him firmly in the friendzone. This dynamic introduced a hint of rivalry between Wilson and Shawn Andrews, who also expressed romantic interest in Angela. Shawn, often characterized as the player of the field, was confident and charming, leveraging his biracial background, striking brown eyes, beautiful smile, and impressive height to attract attention from women in the workplace.
Angela found herself uneasy in certain situations, yet she maintained her confidence. Terrence Brown, the most professional but stern, struck a balance between the three of them. With an extensive career in the field, Terrence, a serious man with a no-nonsense attitude, earned Angela's appreciation. His focus was always on the importance of their work. Despite his lack of smiles, Terrence, a brown-skinned man of shorter stature like Angela, managed to look decent. His commitment was strictly business, creating a dynamic within the group that was complex and multifaceted. The men turned their attention to the board showcasing all the kingpins, their connections, rivals, and the factors that could elevate them to the forefront of the kingpin scene. Wayne stood out as their primary target, particularly due to his relationships with Khenan and his wife, marking him as a rival to individuals from Baton Rouge and former associates like Sosa. His main associates included Anthony Jackson, Travis Bourgeois, among others.
"What's our intel on Sosa? We keep focusing on Wayne and his crew, but we lack substantial evidence to lock them away for an extended period. What additional information do we have on Sosa? There's a chance he might be the anonymous informant. Who's on his payroll, and how did he manage to infiltrate Wayne's operations if that's the case?" Terrence took the lead in the discussion, highlighting the limited information available about Sosa. His operations were shrouded in secrecy, and his associates remained unidentified. The connection with Khenan added an extra layer of complexity, especially considering the escalating tensions between Sosa and Wayne, with accusations being thrown from both sides. "I've had his case before, a guy named Pedro is his capo and second-worker. He takes care of his business." Wilson contributed to the discussion by presenting a file containing Sosa's history. He emphasized the connection with Pedro, showcasing him as Sosa's capo, providing a visual representation to further elucidate the complexities of Sosa's operations.
"He has various networks spanning different countries, he's practically international with his business. It's why it's hard to easily catch him, because he stays far away from the New York scene. Or, he keeps his business operation discreet." He delved further into the intricacies of why apprehending Sosa's workers and associates might prove challenging due to their international nature. While the others paid attention, Angela's thoughts drifted to her affair with Wayne. Amidst those memories, she recalled the unintentional information he had shared with her, unaware of her federal affiliation. Angela then sifted through the accessible files in the meeting room, singling out a particular one labeled "Sincere."
Curious gazes fixed upon her as she strategically positioned a photo of Sincere between Wayne and Sosa, recalling that Sincere had been a common associate when their relationships were intact and Khenan was still alive. He played a crucial role in connecting the two kingpins. "Wayne told me about a Sincere back in the days, he was apart of their group. He helped them a lot, investment wise and business wise." It wasn't a revelation for them that Angela had a past with Wayne, but they considered it an asset in the case. Her personal connection with him provided valuable insights and information, making her an essential contributor to the investigation. The men exchanged glances, recognizing the significance of her knowledge, as it had the potential to extend the case, fulfilling their shared goal of resolving it for potential promotions.
Terrence gestured towards each individual, emphasizing the importance of gathering detailed information on Sosa, Pedro, and Sincere. "I don't care if we have to stay here all night. We need their family ties, background checks, government names, and an overview of their financial standings. Let's get to work," he directed, adopting a no-nonsense tone befitting his role as an FBI agent. Terrence then grabbed the necessary files, signaling the commencement of their investigative efforts. Wilson and Shawn promptly followed suit, leaving the meeting room with a sense of purpose. Angela, remaining behind, took a moment to exhale and check the time on her watch—it was 8 pm. Although she had a genuine passion for her work, the hours were taking their toll. As the others proceeded with the investigative plans, Angela meticulously organized the files she had taken, poring over them for potential revelations.
Meanwhile, Wilson, concerned about Angela's well-being, returned to the office. "You doing okay?" Wilson questioned as he approached Angela, who was engrossed in sifting through the files. She nodded her head in acknowledgment, signaling her readiness to continue their work. "Couldn't feel any better." With a touch of sarcasm, evident as she revealed her exhaustion and a yearning for a break, she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, cleared her throat, and delved into another file. Abruptly, Wilson grabbed the file from her hands, prompting her to look up and meet his gaze. The noticeable height difference, with Angela at 5'2 compared to his taller stature, was a simple touch to him. His gaze locked onto hers, a whirlwind of thoughts rushing through his mind. He harbored a deep desire to make her his wife, his musings ranging from tender considerations to more risqué notions. Wilson felt a compelling urge to protect her; his romantic inclinations were tinged with a touch of delusion. Entranced by her flawless physique, every curve in its right place, Angela embodied an almost unreal allure. In secret, he found himself teetering on the edge of a fervent and somewhat obsessive love.
"Do you feel guilty about what was done with Emauni? Because, I'm sensing as if you need to talk to someone about that subject. You did the right thing." Seeking to provide comfort, Wilson gently rubbed her shoulder in an attempt to soothe her, but the gesture only intensified Angela's discomfort. The truth was, she preferred to suppress these thoughts rather than confront them head-on, fearing the potential rush of guilt. Wilson's attempts to play the part of a supportive boyfriend were unwelcome; Angela craved solitude and needed a moment to herself. "I need a drink." Softly uttering her words without making eye contact, Angela respectfully maneuvered around Wilson, walking out of the meeting room. Although she sensed his confusion and a hint of hurt, she no longer cared. Returning to her office, she swiftly gathered her bag, keys, and coat. The immediate priority was to escape for a moment, seeking solace elsewhere and perhaps numbing her thoughts with a drink.
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❝ — BEYOND THE WALLS
OF INTELLIGENCE, LIFE IS DEFINED.
I THINK OF CRIMES WHEN I'M IN A
NEW YORK STATE OF MIND. ❞
- N.Y STATE OF MIND, NAS.
ALBUM; ILLMATIC. 1994.
[ OPENING SEQUENCE— ILLMATIC I. ]
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I'll be seeing you,
In all the familiar places,
That this heart of mine embraces,
All day through,
In that small cafe...
Observing the jazz bar scene from below, Malik witnessed a woman delivering a rendition of "I'll Be Seeing You" by Billie Holiday. The atmosphere exuded luxury in this downtown bar, known for its sophistication and affordability. Although Malik found it a bit out of his comfort zone, he sat at the bar, taking in the elegant surroundings and the beautiful music. He waited patiently for Pedro, who had instructed him to meet at this jazz bar. Unlike Malik, Pedro appreciated the tranquility of a jazz bar, finding solace in the smooth, soulful tunes. As Pedro entered, he spotted Malik at the bar, casting a critical glance over his attire before letting out a snicker. "You couldn't dress more appropriately for a Jazz bar?" Pedro quirked an eyebrow, sliding his hat onto the bar stool before taking a seat next to Malik. Meanwhile, Malik, rocking his usual flair with gold chains, rings, and baggy black jeans, added a touch of drama with a black jacket adorned in golden patches. His look, completed with black Timberlands, a black durag, and a cap, reflected the style influence of his childhood basketball hero, Allen Iverson.
"You can take me out the hood, but you can't take the hood outta' me." Sharing his thoughts with a subtle smirk, Malik leaned back in his chair, adopting a nonchalant posture with one foot casually on the ground. Pedro found amusement in Malik's observation, acknowledging the contrast between Malik's casual style and the more formal attire of the other patrons, making him distinctly stand out. "Can't change that, damn right." Pedro voiced his words and signaled the bartender for a drink. Meanwhile, Malik had opted for a fancy rum, hoping to indulge in a luxurious choice from the menu, only to find it distasteful and quickly opting for something else. As he played with the glass, creating circles, he glanced back at Pedro, curious about the purpose of their Sunday night meeting. "What you wanted to talk to me 'bout?" He questioned, eager to get to the point, as the bartender delivered the whiskey Pedro had ordered. Pedro acknowledged the drink with a quick thanks, then turned his attention to Malik.
"Just like Sosa said, I'll be helping you out. Everyone is already in their own tasks, as for you, you're still doing the usual. I wanna help you get a higher position." Pedro delved into the details, ensuring to cover the fact that Roscoe and Santos were currently in Mexico handling their assigned tasks, just like everyone else. On the other hand, Malik continued his drug dealings in the corner. Pedro expressed his belief in Malik's untapped potential, possibly even surpassing Juan's if he made smarter moves. "Now what?" Pedro chuckled slightly at Malik's directness and responded with a smirk, ready to share the plan to elevate Malik to a higher position. "You have potential, higher than anyone in there. I see through you, you can move as much stacks. I hate to see you not get the recognition you deserve, your hard work always gets dismissed and ignored, compared to someone else doing the least work than you do and focused on woman." Malik's eyes locked onto Pedro, an evil smirk forming on his face, fully aware that the plan was designed to ruffle Juan's feathers.
"So you picked me to help you get rid of Juan? My own brother? You know, I should kill your ass on the spot for that shit. But, ima let you walk out and act like this conversation never even happened. Fuck outta' my face." Malik's response was filled with an unspoken threat, his eyes locking onto Pedro's with an intensity that hinted at a willingness to resort to violence right then and there. However, recognizing the setting as a federal space, he restrained himself from escalating the situation. Pedro, taken aback by the unexpected aggression, wore a visible frown as he casually finished his whiskey, donned his jacket, and left an amount on the table. As he prepared to depart, Pedro placed a hand on Malik's shoulder, leaning in to whisper, "It's a shame that you'd rather see another person rise above you and reach their potential, someone who probably wouldn't have done the same thing to you." With these words, he tapped Malik's shoulder, signaling an end to the encounter, and made his way out of the bar, leaving Malik to contemplate the implications of their exchange.
Malik, simmering with anger and the weight of Pedro's words, consumed the rum like it was water, his thoughts entangled in the struggle to fulfill his potential without causing harm. Lost in contemplation, he was poised to order another drink when a woman's voice abruptly cut through the air. "Hi, can I have four tequila shots, please," she requested calmly, her attention solely on extracting cash from her wallet. Oblivious to her surroundings, Malik's eyes lifted to meet hers. She exuded an air of sophistication, draped in a white long-sleeve button-down that subtly hinted at allure. The black jeans she wore accentuated her enviable curves, creating an alluring hourglass silhouette. Shiny black stiletto heels adorned her feet, possibly of the coveted Louboutin brand. Her long, lustrous bangs hair cascaded gracefully down her back, framing a face adorned with plump pink lips, a beauty mark above, captivating cat eyes enhanced with meticulous lash application, and a subtle nose ring that added a touch of edginess. To Malik, she appeared like a dream—a woman one might expect to find gracing the glossy pages of a high-end fashion magazine. She exuded both elegance and a commanding feminine presence, creating an indelible impression on Malik's mind.
I fall in love too easily, I fall in love too fast, I fall in love too terribly hard, for love to ever last. As "I Fall in Love Too Easily" by Chet Baker filled the air, its beautiful and soothing melody deepening the ambiance, Malik couldn't escape the enchanting sway of the music. The scenarios it painted in his mind only intensified as he kept his gaze fixed on the captivating woman. She gracefully settled into the chair next to him, still engrossed in her search for the right amount in her wallet. Malik, seizing the opportunity to make a subtle gesture, delved into his pocket and discreetly slid a $50 bill towards the bartender, anticipating that she might desire more drinks. The bill silently communicated his intention to cover any additional expenses for her. The woman, drawn by the unexpected gesture, turned her eyes towards him, taking in the details that defined the man beside her from the rose tattoo on his hand.
Her observation revealed Malik's handsome features—the rich dark chocolate hue of his skin, small yet intriguingly dark eyes that carried a natural aura, impeccably groomed straight eyebrows, a perfectly shaped and not-too-prominent nose, a smattering of mustache, and a growing beard that exuded a smooth charm. His lips, full and well-defined, added a touch of cuteness to his overall appearance. Despite appearing young, he exuded a mature and somewhat dangerous allure, a unique blend of contrasting qualities that set him apart. The woman couldn't help but feel a sense of surprise at encountering such a distinctive figure in this particular bar and locale. "Thank you, you didn't have to." She graciously thanked him, tucking her wallet away. The scenario felt familiar to her, accustomed as she was to men often buying her drinks in the hope of something more – something she had no intention of giving. "By all means." He replied, observing as the bartender presented the four tequila shots before her, sparking curiosity in Malik's mind.
"You must have had a rough day." He chuckled, a hint of amusement in his tone, shaking his head, eliciting a warm smile from the woman in response to his humor. "That's what work will do to you, care to join?" She kindly offered, aiming to be generous, especially considering he had covered the cost. However, shots and alcohol weren't really his preference; he was more of a smoker. "Nah, not really my thing." Malik politely declined with a hand motion signaling a no, and the woman rolled her eyes, grabbing one shot and passing the other to him. "Come on, don't be a loser." He looked at the shot, and as she turned her soft eyes towards him, he couldn't decline. Taking her offering, she gave him a smile, and they tapped glasses together before simultaneously taking the shots, the strength of which was evident from their facial expressions. "Damn." Malik let out a squint, feeling the percentage of alcohol coursing through his system, which caused the woman to laugh.
She found something quite amusing about him, a departure from the usual encounters she had with men. Perhaps it was his calm, laid-back attitude and the fact that he wasn't forcing himself on her. "Angela, by the way." Introducing herself, Angela extended her hand. As Malik shook it, he observed her fingers with small, meaningful italic tattoos, adorned with silver jewelry, diamond rings, and a bracelet that complemented her medium-length acrylic white nails. It was evident she was a woman with financial independence, adding to Malik's attraction. "Malik." Comfortably stating his name, Malik's gaze seductively explored Angela up and down. Angela noticed his admiring glance and found it cute and somewhat amusing, a scenario she was well accustomed to.
Angela, at the age of twenty-four, found herself accustomed to dealing with mature men. Her history included Wayne, a past fling from a few years ago when she had just turned twenty and entered the federal business. The relationship took a sharp turn when Wayne discovered her federal affiliations and attempted to distance himself, but it ended up backfiring. Angela didn't delve into questioning Malik's age, given his appearance matched hers. Malik, on the other hand, had a preference for mature women. While he had experiences with girls his age, grown women always captured his attention, and Angela, in his eyes, seemed nothing short of perfect. Angela possessed a soft-hearted and feminine demeanor, yet those who dared to challenge her would witness a devilish side. When the situation demanded it, she could be brutally cold and unyielding. "Come on, let's take another one."
Angela offered another round, continuing the cycle. She aimed to establish dominance, while Malik went along with the vibe she projected. However, as the night progressed and discussions deepened, the sexual tension between them intensified. Unbeknownst to Angela, Wilson happened to walk past the bar, catching sight of her engaging in a seemingly intense conversation with a man who appeared to have a dubious background. Their faces hinted at a desire to devour each other, with seductive smiles and smirks. The evident sexual tension fueled Wilson's anger, prompting him to walk away, leaving Angela to her own devices. "You know what, I think it's time for me to leave. I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow." With the clock striking 11 pm, Angela rose from her seat, gathering her coat, wallet, and keys, ensuring she had everything she needed before leaving.
"Let me walk you to yo' car, then." Amidst the laughter and banter, Malik rose from his seat, smoothly taking Angela's coat and assisting with her belongings. The atmosphere was charged with playful teasing and shared glances, making it clear that the connection between them was more than casual. Angela, appreciative of Malik's chivalrous gesture, led the way towards her sleek BMW with Malik following closely. The liquor had certainly left its mark, but Malik, still in control, intended to see Angela off safely. As they approached her luxurious car, Malik couldn't help but notice the signs of Angela's financial prosperity. "I got a car, I can drop you off home." Angela couldn't help but laugh at the unexpected offer, finding Malik's gesture both amusing and charming. "You're a sweet one, but no." Malik nodded, understanding Angela's preference for privacy. He stepped back, showing respect for her boundaries as he put his hands up.
The two both had a moment of silence, not knowing when's the right time to say goodbye. They were both hungry for it, the liquor in the system wasn't making things any better. They were sexually attracted to each other, and they somehow didn't wanna leave things like this. Malik didn't wanna make the first move to simply keep his respect, and Angela wasn't trying to make herself seem as an easy woman. Which she's not, and hasn't had any kind of sexual intercourse since Wayne. But in this case, they both didn't give a damn. Malik reached for her neck and began kissing her, deep-throating even, igniting a spark that seemed to defy the unspoken tensions in the air. He was hungry for it, and so was she. Biting on her bottom lip and sucking on it, soft moans escaped her mouth, creating a symphony of desire. They soon enough moved inside the car, seeking refuge from prying eyes. Angela sat on his lap, allowing his hands to explore every inch of her body. There was something about his touch that she loved, a magnetic connection that intensified in the confined space of the car.
Their lips stayed glued to each other, as Angela's hands remained on his face, eagerly seeking more of him. The intensity was so passively aggressive that they didn't even care if they ran out of breath; they craved it, begged for it. Pausing briefly, they needed to shed their clothes, and Angela took the initiative, helping Malik remove his shirt and unbuckling his belt, their eyes locked in a magnetic exchange of unbridled desire. As Angela slid off her jeans, Malik reciprocated by unbuttoning her white shirt and removing her bra. She stood before him, now only in a thong, revealing a body that left him in wow—her physique was absolutely stunning, complete with pierced nipples. It was a golden moment, etching itself into Malik's memory. With a hunger that couldn't be contained, Malik began kissing every inch of her body, from her lips to her breasts and down to her neck, where he sucked on it with a fervor akin to a vampire. Angela's moans filled the car, a harmonious response to the pleasure and stinging sensations that heightened the intensity of their intimate encounter. "Mm, this feels so good."
Pausing for a moment, Malik swiftly lowered his pants and boxers, revealing his aroused state. His anticipation and desire were palpable. Angela, feeling a mix of nerves and arousal, slid her panties to the side, allowing the tip of Malik's sizable arousal to make contact. As he entered, she felt her walls stretching, the tightness amplifying the pleasure. The wetness inside her intensified the sensation, and she couldn't help but groan. Gripping her waist, Malik took charge, slamming her down, prompting Angela to exclaim, "Oh my God! Fuck!" She moaned with a mix of whimper as Malik's movements stretched her walls, the blend of pain and pleasure creating a surreal experience. Groaning in her ear, Malik took control, urging her to ride up and down, his voice filled with desire, "Ride that fuckin' dick, ride that shit." The aggression continued as he slapped her ass, bit his bottom lip, and then sensually rubbed her clit before indulging in the pleasure of sucking on her nipples. It was a whirlwind of sensations for Angela, an unprecedented mix of pleasure that overwhelmed her senses. "Wait, this is too-"
As Angela struggled to balance the overwhelming pleasure, maintaining her rhythm while avoiding going too deep, Malik interrupted with a commanding tone, "Shut the fuck up, and take that shit!" To silence her, he slid two fingers into her mouth, where she eagerly sucked on them, deepening them into the back of her throat, inducing moans. Realizing she wasn't taking it all, Malik took matters into his own hands, moving his waist up and down to target her G-spot. His intent was clear – he wanted her to reach climax, "Oh, shit! Fuuuck! Wait, wait-!" The overwhelming experience was almost too much for her, yet Angela found pleasure in the intensity. Screaming at the top of her lungs, Malik couldn't help but smirk, taking in the ecstasy of the moment. Looking down at his glistening member coated in her essence, he reveled in her responsiveness – she was a creamer, and he loved it.
Moaning into her ear with each rhythmic movement, Malik was captivated by every aspect of her. From head to toe, everything about her seemed perfect, and he felt a possessive desire to make her his own, creating an intimate space where nobody else could touch what they had shared. "This shit is mine?" In a low tone, Malik questioned her, but she chose not to answer, knowing that this pussy was hers alone. Her moans spoke louder than words. This sparked a possessiveness in Malik, an unspoken claim intensifying as he slammed her body again, delving deeper. Gripping her waist, he hit her G-spot forcefully, prompting another loud whimper, a symphony of pleasure and desire echoing around. "Fuck! Why you fuckin' me like this?" In between whimpers, she asked, the words escaping with a breathy plea as he continued hitting her G-spot with deliberate, slow strokes, taking control of the rhythm and intensity. "I said, whose pussy is this?"
She continued moaning with a mix of whimper, torn between vocalizing her desires and resisting the admission. Malik, undeterred by a lack of words, seized control by grabbing her waist again, guiding her into a faster, rhythmic bounce that relentlessly targeted her G-spot. The intense sensations made her struggle to hold back any words, amplifying the pleasure and desire in their shared moment. "Shiiittt! I'm about to cum!" She moaned out loud, her body heating up with the rising intensity. Her hand pressed against the window, leaving a clear handprint—a silent testament to the passion unfolding within the confined space. The desire to escape the impending climax was palpable, but Malik's hands remained locked on her waist, guiding her through the ecstasy she couldn't evade. "Nah, don't run now! Whose pussy this is?" With a hint of aggression, he asked again, the urgency evident in his voice. His body betrayed the imminent climax, twitching with anticipation. Glancing down at his coated member, he then locked eyes with her, seeking an answer in the midst of their shared pleasure. "It's yours."
She mumbled the words, a surrender to the intensity of the moment, before returning to loud moans. Her eyes slowly blanked from the overwhelming sensations, teetering on the brink of climax. Hoping for a slight release, Malik, driven by his own desire, pressed for more, urging her to go even faster. The repeated hits on her G-spot intensified the experience, pushing her further into the realms of ecstasy. "Scream this shit just like you screaming them moans!" Breathing down her neck, Malik used his other hand to deliver a few aggressive slaps to her ass, leaving red marks in their wake. Angela, unable to contain herself, screamed out, "It's yours, papi! It's yours!" Her admission coincided with the climax that consumed her, closing her eyes as she allowed herself to reach the peak, coating him in the process. In response, Malik groaned loudly, a guttural exclamation of pleasure, releasing his seed inside her. The two, now breathless, were left in the aftermath of their passionate encounter, gradually regaining their composure as they caught their breath. A wide smirk adorned Malik's face as he licked his lips and planted a few kisses on her. Pride emanated from him, a sense of accomplishment for coaxing those words out of her in the throes of passion.
"It's mine, huh?" Cockily, Malik said, earning an eye roll from her. Undeniably, it was the best sex she had ever experienced, "Nah, it's mine." She responded before getting off of him, sitting next to him and grabbing a few baby wipes from her car to clean up around her legs. Malik shook his head with a smirk as he checked his pager and received a message from Tjay, signaling a need for more supplies. He sighed, reaching for his phone to contact Rico for the necessary arrangements. Angela, observing him, could sense the illegal nature of his dealings, possibly as a drug dealer. However, in that moment, she chose to set aside any concerns about legality. Keeping her federal cap to herself, she watched Malik attentively. Her gaze then fell on a gun placed on the seat, realizing it didn't belong to her. "This yours?"
She questioned, catching Malik's attention. He looked at her and nodded, taking the gun. It was unloaded, with no bullets from forgetting to add more after practicing with Rico, but then he pointed it toward her pussy. "This what's going to happen if you decide to give my shit away." He then pulled the trigger many times, creating the sound effect of clicks without any bullets. "Bow bow bow," he added his own sound effects. Angela found it a mix of crazy and humorous, playfully pushing his head away. "You're crazy," she said with a grin, enjoying his sense of humour. Malik simply gave her a grin before getting himself ready. "For you," he added, finishing the sentence she forgot. Angela felt a certain attraction to Malik; he was a kind of man she had never encountered before, someone who went easy on her and allowed things to unfold naturally. Little did they both know that this encounter would lead to bigger drama. After all, nothing good comes from sleeping with a stranger. It was simply the beginning of it all.
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©𝐆𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐔𝐃𝐄
PRESENTING; — ILLMATIC I.
𝓒HAPTER SIXTEEN.
Nas once said ; Time is Illmatic.
A phrasing to emerge through illmatic. — that death is all around you so you shouldn't waste a minute of your time on earth, while acknowledging that time is always moving forward and it's easy to get stuck in a rut in your life.
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— 11/02/24.
Just as said,
nothing good comes from sleeping with a stranger.
another sex scenes for you guys!! I'm slowly getting into it. LOL, I used to find writing smuts sooo embarrassing but I now don't give AF!!
So it's only gonna get better and better from here.
We're almost at 10K too, superrr excited and once we hit I'll drop two chapters for u guys soooo...
Stay tuned for the next chapter, xoxo.
- sincerely, gianna. 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪