Mugshot Hills

|Ch38|

The more cruelest, deadliest, most feared couple in all of New York City sat in a club. Ona'je Crest sitting in a seat in front of some of the biggest hitters in the game. His all black suit covering his body, his shirt unbuttoned exposing his chocolate chest and abs, a golden chain hanging down his neck that reads OD, his gun showing out of his pants, tucked right against his waist. His blue and brown eyes placing fear in any mans chest. His hands wrapped around the waist of a woman his woman. Her natural hair jet black and hanging down her back, her lips glossed with lip liner, her body bangin' in an all black tight fitted dress that reached above her thighs and the breasts part of it see through, her tall heels knee length. Her looks able to bring any man to his knees. But nobody would dare look at her that way, they were too fearful of what her man would do. They thanked God that OD couldn't read thoughts. Then they'd all be dead.

Literally.

Their madly in love, crazily in love even. To do the things that they've done and sleep peacefully, to wander the streets without a care in the world, no fear in their hearts of their rivals, of the police. You've got to be insane to live a life like that. To be like that. Ona'je and Brooklyn would kill family, would kill the innocent, would do the cruelest things possible but never to eachother. They were one another's weakness, but together? Stronger than ever. And nobody could ever pull them apart.

Brooklyn leans forwards in her seat. Intimidating the men that sit around the table. She's killed more people than any of them, moved more product than any of them, her name rang fear in the streets. And she didn't run from that. She ran through the streets holding her mans hand going by her REAL name. She wasn't afraid to be known or seen. She was proud of her choices. Though that led to both her and Ona'je being wanted by not only dangerous ass individuals but also the police, FBI, and etc.

"With all due respect OD..." Mafia lord Arturo begins. As soon as the words leave his lips Brooklyn's fingertips are already glazing Ona'je's gun for him. "We done worked with Rossi. She done been in the game her whole life. Y'all only got a year in this shit, why should we work with y'all?"

Arturo was the only man at the table that didn't fear them. He admired their relationship and drive to be the best. His wife Miranda was a church going girl, she'd pray over him each time he came home from doing horrible things. She'd pray for his soul, pray for his health, pray for his life. They'd often get into it about how Miranda wanted him to leave this life alone. Arturo used to love how pure and innocent she was. Till he realized he was going to be spending his entire life listening to her cry and complain about how dangerous he was living. Luckily for Ona'je he'd never have to work about that. Arturo just happened to be one of those niggas who wished he had what OD had. He loved Miranda but he admired Brooklyn. Miranda just didn't understand that Arturo has no choice but to be in the game. He was born into the mafia, it's his birth right. He'd live there and he'd die there.

Ona'je places his hand over Brooklyn's thats clutching his gun he laughs. "Rossi hiding out in fear. She know how we operate now and she's afraid of it. Now you either with us or against us. Would you rather be with somebody that's scared?" He questions. The bass and authority in his tone ruling over the room.

Charlie the only white man in the room presses his lips together glancing back and forth between the couple. "Rossi isn't messy though. The way you and ya girlfriend operate. It draws attention."

Brooklyn laughs. "His girlfriend?" Her tone is flirty but her face is pissed. "I'm more than some girl friend."

"You offended Brooklyn." Ona'je speaks up again adjusting her on his lip. "Why don't you apologize?"

"Apologize?" Charlie repeats.

Ona'je holds Brooklyn's hand allowing her to stand up still near him. "Did I stutter?"