Free Filthy Rich-Part 2 by Kendall Banks

squeezed the trigger. Dying instantly, Byron's brains were now scattered all over the ground.
    "You son of a bitch!" Nessa screamed. She was hysterical. "I told you not to kill him. I fuckin' told your ass not to do it!"
    Turning around and marching towards Nessa, Brandon yelled back, "It had to be done!"
    "No, it didn't!"
    Getting directly in Nessa's face, he screamed, "This is the fuckin' life you chose, Nessa. In order to reach the top in this game, you've got to murder the muthafuckas who are trying to hold you back!"
    "But he was my father!"
    "And Luke, Chetti, and Darien were my family. So, what the fuck about it? That blood is thicker than water shit don't fly in this game. It's dog eat dog, Nessa. Every beast for himself. That's how you survive!"
    "Goddamn it, Brandon, this is my thing. I give the orders!"
    Hearing those words made something shift inside Brandon. Developing a rabid expression across his face, he said, "Bitch, don't get it twisted. You may have power but I'm powerful . Big difference. I gave you everything. Me, bitch. And I can take it away if I feel the need to. Don't you ever fuckin' forget it."
    Nessa stood seething. She didn't quite know how to respond to what he'd just said. She realized maybe it was best to not say anything.
    Snatching Nessa's purse, Brandon took the fifty thousand from inside and tossed the purse on the ground. "This is to pay off the Mexicans."
    Nessa still remained silent but pissed off as she watched Brandon turn and head to his car. As the engine came to life and he pulled away leaving her alone, she realized two things. One was that her relationship turned partnership with him was going to have to come to an end. And number two...
    The car that had been parked across the street from the park was now gone.  
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter 8
    Outside the cabin a rented Chrysler 300 was parked near the front door. The sun beamed down over the cabin and surrounding trees. Inside, far beyond angry, Chetti paced back and forth across the floor holding a glass of Tequila in her right hand. Ice cubes clinked against the sides of the glass with each step she took. In her other hand she held a cigar; a Louixs, the best cigar money could buy. Smoke slithered from its lit end towards the ceiling.
    Chetti, fresh out of jail, still looked just as beautiful as she did the very day she was arrested. Her hair was pulled back and nails freshly done. Dressed in a Chanel from head to toe, her facial expression showed her distaste for the flies buzzing around the dead bodies.
    Sitting in a chair in the far corner of the room watching in silence was Mac, Chetti's most trusted bodyguard. Mac got his name because of his solid and rugged build, a build as indestructible as a Mac truck. He stood a towering 6'5". He weighed a little over three hundred pounds and was black as coal. His hands were huge and calloused. And he always kept a gun in close reach.
    Mac, although a bodyguard, was a renaissance man of sorts for Chetti. He was a killer, kidnapper, hustler, and businessman. He’d been responsible for watching Chetti’s money on the streets for years. And since Chetti had been gone, he'd been responsible for killing whoever she needed killed. He was also part of the reason she was now free. It was him who had hustled and grinded hard to get up the money for Chetti's release. The very moment Chetti's bond was made public, he posted the bail and was on the steps of the jail awaiting her and her attorney.
    At the moment, besides Mac and Deena, no one knew Chetti was free. She wanted it to remain that way for a while. She had to plot and scheme for a moment. Aside from that, she was pissed the fuck off.
    "Fucking incompetent sons of bitches!" Chetti yelled as she continued to pace the floor of the same cabin where Trinity and Cedrick had been held captive.  She stepped over the decomposing bodies of the men she’d paid to handle her children as if their lives never