Filthy Rich-Part 2 (9 page)

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Authors: Kendall Banks

BOOK: Filthy Rich-Part 2
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"In a nutshell, my mother kidnapped me, faked my death and has been holding me hostage all this time while keeping me medicated."

"You can't be serious."

"Difficult to believe, I know, but it's definitely true."

"Why would she do something so horrible?"

"She wanted control of the family. And when she wants something, she's the type who won't let even her own blood stand in her way."

Cedrick went into detail about what he'd endured since the kidnapping. He also told Richard about Trinity's rape and molestation. As he did, Richard was aghast at what he was hearing. His face twisted in expressions of disgust with each word spoken. He'd heard a lot during his twenty-five years as an attorney, but what he was hearing now was by far the most troubling.

"She's an evil woman," Cedrick said ending the story. "Sick at that."

"Wow."

"Wow is an understatement."

"Obviously I'm assuming you're here to make sure charges can be brought against her to the fullest extent of the law. No problem. Let's get right on it."

"Actually, that's not why I'm here. It's not even on my mind."

Richard looked at him like he was crazy.

"Don't worry," Cedrick said. "I assure you she won't get away with what she did. I'll make absolute sure of that."

"Well, what can I help you with?"

"My inheritance."

"I see. The best way to get back at a person of wealth is to hit them in the pockets."

"Exactly, and I'm taking power over the family again."

"Well, as far as I know, all of the family's assets are under Federal freeze right now. But since you're the beneficiary and obviously it can't be proven that you had anything to do with the criminal activities, it shouldn't be difficult to get everything unfrozen."

"Good."

"We can get started on everything tomorrow morning."

"Thanks."

"How are you now? Where are you living?"

"With a friend. Both myself and Trinity are living there."

Reaching into his pocket he pulled out some cash and then handed it to Cedrick. "Take that. I know it's not much but it should help you for a little while. It’s about nine hundred.”

"Richard, I can't take your money."

"Cedrick, I can't hear of that. As much help as your father gave in helping to establish this firm, it's the least I can do."

Richard grabbed a pen and his checkbook, and made out a check for two thousand dollars and handed it to Cedrick.

Cedrick sighed and accepted the check.

“Man, I appreciate it. I’ll pay you back every penny.”

"Nonsense. I won’t hear of it. Now, let's discuss where we go from here," Richard said.

The two men began to discuss their plans to see to it that Cedrick would rise back to the top of the Bishop family. An hour later, Cedrick was exiting the building. Out on the busy street, the first thing he heard was a hotdog vendor yelling the prices of her hotdogs. He then couldn't help taking in the sounds of busy traffic. He couldn't believe he was back among all of it. Getting ready to go about his way, he noticed someone leaning against a car staring directly at him as if they knew him. Ignoring them, he attempted to head up the sidewalk.

"Cedrick Bishop!" someone called.

Cedrick turned to see the stranger who'd been leaning against the car heading towards him. Reaching Cedrick, the stranger said, "I'd heard a rumor but I didn't believe it was true. And if I hadn't expected it, I'd swear you were a ghost."

"How do you know my name?" Cedrick asked suspiciously. "Do I know you?"

"No, but I guarantee when I tell you who I am, and how I can assist you with your quest to get revenge on the people who had you locked in that room like a savage animal, you'll
want
to know me."

Cedrick was still skeptical but now intrigued.

“Who the hell are you?”

"Can we go somewhere and talk over a drink?" the stranger asked.

“Hell no, I don’t even know you!”

“Trust me. It’s in your best interest to know me.”

Cedrick paused.

"Mr. Bishop, it'll be worth your while. Again…trust me."

“I don’t trust anyone,” he stated flatly.

“Well, does this change your mind?”

The stranger pulled the unthinkable from underneath the small pocket of a coat.

Seconds passed.

Then...Cedrick thought really hard.

"Alright," Cedrick finally said.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 9

The sound of the gun blasts still filled Nessa's ears. She could still see the flashes from its barrel. She could still see Byron pitifully pulling himself along the ground like a bleeding slug. It all nauseated Nessa. It nauseated her so badly, she'd thrown up several times over the past few days almost each time she thought about Byron's murder. His death was eating away at her constantly.

Nessa hadn't been able to sleep well. She hadn't been able to make it through her days with clear thoughts. Her conscience wouldn't allow her to. She felt totally responsible for Byron's death and it was tormenting her.

Of course Byron had been an asshole to Nessa. Of course he had been a deadbeat, con- artist, liar, and so much more. But despite all that, no matter how much Nessa hated the man he'd become, he was still her father. And she couldn't let go of that.

Heading to Chavez's for a re-up, Nessa stressfully rested the side of her head against her free hand as she drove with the other. The game wasn't quite starting out the way she'd hoped, she had to admit. The money was coming in but she could do without the damn drama.

"This is the life you chose!" Nessa could still hear Brandon screaming at her that night. "In order to reach the top in this game, you've got to murder the muthafuckas who are trying to hold you back!"

Those words rang loudly in Nessa's mind and ears. She knew they were true, but
damn
. She just couldn't get past Byron being the first one that had to be killed. It had her fuming at Brandon’s actions. The son of a bitch had gone against her wishes. She knew that couldn't be tolerated but what exactly could she do about it? He was a Fed. If she killed him and got caught, she'd get the electric chair. If she simply stopped fucking with him, there was no end to what he could use his authority in his quest for revenge. The dilemma had her stressing hard.

Real hard.

"So, what are you going to do about the situation?" Piper now asked, sitting in the passenger seat. "This damn Brandon character is obviously a loose cannon."

"I don't know," Nessa answered, running her hand through her hair.

"What do you mean, you don't know?"

"I mean, I don't know." Nessa grew agitated.

"I know Byron was a piece of shit. And you'd better believe I won't miss him. Shit, the world is better off without him. But still, he wasn't supposed to be killed without your order to do it."

"You think I don't know that?"

"I don't know. It looks like you're letting this Brandon guy run over you. You're going to need to run a tighter ship. I mean damn, what type of popsicle stand are you running here?"

"Look, mom, all this was your damn idea in the first place."

"And I didn't see you complaining. You wanted the money just as bad as I did."

Growing more stressed, Nessa said, "Look, mom, I don't want to talk about this right now. I just brought you along so you could meet Chavez. That way, no matter what happens with the Brandon situation, you'll be locked in."

Piper sighed and shook her head. She was definitely displeased with Nessa right now but decided to let it go. Obviously, she had her own problems to be stressed about. She was still going to call Brandon later on though and check his ass.

Finally reaching the mansion, rolling through its parting gates, making their way up its winding drive way and parking at its steps, Nessa and Piper climbed out of the car and were escorted inside by several of Chavez's henchmen. As they walked, Nessa carried a duffel bag filled with five hundred thousand dollars that she’d picked up from Sidra’s. It was the profit made by NaNa and his crew on the 17 bricks they’d bought and sold from Chavez .

It was time to re-up.

"Nessa," Chavez greeted her in his den. Arising from his chair behind the desk, he made his way around the desk, took Nessa's hand and kissed it like a gentleman. "An honor to do business with you again."

"Same here."

"And who's your friend?"

"This is actually my mother."

"Your mother?” Chavez had a strange expression spread across his face. He began twirling a massage ball through his fingers as he slipped into deep thought.  “No Brandon?" he finally asked.

"He had to handle something."

"Nessa, I must insist that there be no more new faces. New faces make me nervous." His expression was serious, signaling although he was a gentleman, he wasn't to be tested.

"I understand."

Chavez stood hesitant. His eyes looked as though they were eyeing Piper up and down. Noticing their boss' reaction, the two goons at the door stepped forward exposing the guns underneath their suit jackets.

Nessa grew uneasy.

"Is there a damn problem?" Piper asked.

Not taking kindly to the disrespect Piper had just shown their boss, both men quickly pulled their guns and began to approach her.

Nessa's body tensed. She looked at her mother like she'd gone absolutely coo-coo for damn Cocoa Puffs.

Raising his hand to signal his goons to halt, Chavez eyed Piper a little more. The glare he was giving her was as if he knew her or had seen her somewhere before. A smile, although not quite a pleasant one, began to appear across his face. "What's your name?" he asked.

"Piper," she answered, obviously nervous but putting up a strong front.

Hearing the name, Chavez stroked his goatee for a brief moment while keeping his eye on Piper and seeming to be thinking about something. Nessa didn't like it. Something about it was creepy. Then signaling for his goons to head back to the door, he extended his hand to Piper and said, "You police?”

“Hell no!” Piper spat.

“Then it’s an honor meeting you."

Piper accepted his hand.

Nessa noticed he didn't kiss it. Something about that struck her strangely.

Releasing Piper's hand, he said, "Please, ladies, have a seat."

Everyone sat at the desk.

"I'm assuming the bag contains my money?" Chavez asked.

"Yes," Nessa told him. “And a little more than before so I can get more product. Things are moving faster than I expected.”

"Great, I can do each brick at a little over twenty-five a piece."

"That's ridiculous," Piper said.

Taken off guard, Chavez asked her, "Excuse me?"

Nessa immediately kicked her mother's ankle.

Ignoring Nessa, Piper said, "She paid a little under 17k for the last batch, and unloaded them quicker than your dick can get hard. Now here she is spending a half million with you once again, and you going up on the price! She's not spending chump change here, pretty boy! She deserves much cheaper prices."

Chavez eyed Piper with something unexplainable. Nessa couldn't tell if it was displeasure, contempt, anger or something else. It was difficult to read. All Nessa knew for sure was he didn't like Piper at all.

"Mom, can we step outside and talk?" Nessa asked.

"Nothing to talk about right now but this business," Piper said while continuing to look directly across the desk at Chavez. "And we don't have to step outside for that."

Silence.

Nessa could feel the stares of Chavez's henchmen burning a hole through the back of her head. Also, Chavez's demeanor and look ever since he first saw Piper; wasn't sitting well with Nessa. There was something about it.

A dark cloud seemed to have fallen over the den.

Acquiring a smile, Chavez asked Piper, "What price do you think is more suitable, uh, Piper is it?"

"Yes, and I think sixteen is more than fair."

“Sixteen grand?"

"Yup, that’s what I said. So get ya feelings wrapped up and let’s get this money."

Chavez leaned back in his chair, pulled out a cigar and then signaled for one of his men. A goon quickly walked over to him, lit his cigar and then headed back to the door. But not before giving both Nessa and Piper a look that easily revealed his thirst for his boss to give the order to have them killed. Seeing that look, Nessa just wanted to get the deal over with and go.

Moments passed.

"You are aware that my product is the most potent in the state?" Chavez asked Piper while exhaling smoke towards her as if purposely wanting to agitate her.

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