C H A P T E R 18 : Darien

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Saturday

December 27th, 2013

9:00 p.m.

                                                             

                                                        *Two Weeks Later*

   It was well into the evening when my private jet touched back down in Chicago. I stood at the entrance of the plane and looked up at the sky. Feels good to be on land again, I thought as I began to descend down the stairs. As I reached the bottom I noticed an older white woman standing there with her arms folded as she waited patiently. “Good evening Mr. Love my name is Paula and I will be your chauffeur.” she introduced with a warming smile. “Your ride is ready.” she informed.

    I didn’t say anything to her. I instructed someone to grab my bags for her, and we all followed Paula to the limo. I watched as they put my bags into the trunk and then I opened the limo door and climbed into the backseat. I slammed my door shut and within a few seconds the divider between the front and back seat of the limo let down. The front of the limo was dimly lit which caused a shadowy tint to her face. Our eyes met and locked in the dashboard mirror. “Just wanna’ make sure you’re comfortable before we pull off.” she offered seductively. I didn’t reply to her obvious flirtatious comment. “You don’t talk much do you?” she questioned.

    Finally uttering a word I told her, “I’m just not the type of dude to hold conversations with strangers.”

“So he does talk.” she remarked. “I’m not a stranger, you can tell me anything.”

“Can you just get me to the club quietly please?” I questioned rudely. Paula kept her seductive eyes on me for a minute. She smirked and then scoffed. Her lips went into a devious smile as she raised the window back up. I felt the car moving and I began to relax back into the seat. I didn’t have time to flirt with an older white woman.

    Don’t get me wrong Paula is sexy. She was at least model height, with platinum blond hair that reached the middle of her back. She had minimum curves, but her big breasts made up for it. She had gray mysterious eyes, and pink pouty lips that made her a dime; the only thing that killed the vibe was she looked to be in her late thirties.

    As I sat in the backseat of the limo I thought back to all the shit I had encountered these last two weeks while I was away in Atlanta on ‘business’. I was feelin’ like the man and there was no stopping my shine. Me and my team had just been a part of one of the biggest drug deals to ever go down in Atlanta history. I was literally feelin’ untouchable and at just at eighteen I was arriving back in my city a new leader.

    I am at my highest peak and not to brag, but I’m doing the damn thing. I had the streets of Chicago on lock. Everywhere you went you seen crack heads buying our product. I had drug connects that crossed state to state and I was pushin’ weight that stretched from Canada down to the islands. I was next in line to inherit The King Disciples and The Stone Disciples.

    It still amazes me that I’ve climbed the underground later this fast in only six years. I went from a thirteen year old lookout to an eighteen year old soon to be kingpin. Up there with some of the greats I’ve been labeled the next Frank Lucas or some shit. I was nearly at the top of my game, and I had no problem outing you if you interfered.

    I admit my operation is the main cause of destruction in Illinois. My drug trade contributes to at least about ninety percent of drugs, prostitution, and gang violence. I was taught by one of the Chicago greats so what did you expect?  Nowhere was safe.  Only a few niggas stood in my way and they were no match; they were simply pawn pieces that I wasn’t ready to get rid of yet. I’m a force to be reckoned with, even the C.P.D knows this. Me and my crew are the niggas you hear rapping pretending to be. We’re the menaces to society the movies portray.

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