The Pretty B*tch Hitta: The Untold Story of a Boss B*tch

Eight

Miami Gardens
September 12 1:15 AM

"So let me get this right. You dont know where the money is, killed the only motherfucker we could corner that was close to Smoove, lose fuckin Smoove, get half a crew gunned down and we lost a trap. Tell me why the fuck I put you in charge again," Salvatore Esperence growled lowly. His thick accent only made is voice scarier.

"Papi i told you that fool ain't know shit. And how the fuck was I supposed to know the motherfucker would live? Asshole's got nine lives!" Lucci snapped back.

There were encircled by men in all black, standing on the deck of Salvatore's sprawling mansion. Salvatore's mood set everyone, including his son, on edge.

"I dont give a fuck I want that money and I want it yesterday. Do I have to out your brother in charge of this? Do you know how much $16 million is worth you fucking dumbass?"

Lucci resisted the urge to come crazy at his father. "Look we got some guys getting the drop on the street, I even go some putis with their ears to the-

Suddenly, Salvatore lunged towards his son and grabbed him by the collar with his fist. He breathed in deep and ragged, smelling of cigars and cognac. Lucci turned his head away, not daring to make eye contact.

"I dont give a fuck about who you got out there. My fucking money is there stupido. The family's money. Anybody standing in my way of getting what's mine, Im gonna mow em down. And I mean anybody!"

With that, he roughly released his son's collar. Lucci could feel his heat rising, his heartbeat quickened. His father's favorite way of showing disdain was always to test his manhood.

"Find the fucking money. Tiene hasta el lunes." He turned on his heel, snapped his fingers and the well dressed goons trailed behind him.

Lucci stood alone, looking over suburban Miami calmed his nerves. He was by no means a bitch. He was a cold blooded killer, trained up by the very man, the only man, who put genuine fear in his heart.

His phone suddenly lit up.

Lena: where are you baby?? Come over i need you
Me: not tonight, ill catch you tomorrow

Just as he was sliding his phone back in his pocket, it pinged again. He became slightly annoyed, assuming it was Lena, when he noticed it was sone of his goons.

3214000000: we got him. Miami regional, room 506

Lucci made a private, sinister smile.

Miami Hospital
September 12 2:00 AM

Brielle had just gotten some vending machine snack when she noticed the time. Work was dragging by slow, and the ever-growing fear that Smoove and Lux were only a room apart at the house, with no knowledge to Lux. She could feel her stomach turn uneasily.

Antowine sat beside her, scrolling though his phone. A lone couple sat in the ER room awaiting a doctor. Just as Brielle's mind began to drift, the entrance door slid open. Storming in were two of the beefiest men she'd ever seen. Their faces, scarred, made her shake a little. Even Antwoine, though keeping his cool, raised his brow quizzically.

"We need to see someone who was bought here last week, NOW."

Antwoine, not picking up on their threatening tone, nonchalantly replied "Sorry visiting hours are over. You can come back at seven AM."

Suddenly, the door to the registration cubicle flew open. Goon #2 stormed in like a hurricane, and Brie leapt out the way and cowered by a file cabinet.

"You can't come here!" She shrieked. It fell on deaf ears. In one quick swoop, he had Antwoine, who although was heavy himself but smaller than the man, by his scrub collar. He delivered a deafening blow, knocking his glasses.

Brie screamed in terror as blood splattered against glass divider.

"Tell me where room 506 is or I'll break your fucking jaw," he snarled, his fist cleaning tighter around the collar. His alternate fist cocked back ready to delivered another hit.

"I-it's empty. The patient checked themselves out..please don't hurt me!"

Brie could feel hear heartbeat thump, convinced it'd rip thru her shirt. It felt like water had filled her ears, and she could feel tears start to form against her vision.

"When?!" The man demanded.

F-f-forty-eight hours ago," he murmured weakly. "They..they just left without a word." His body began to sway, and he was losing the grip he had on the counter he was backed against.

The man let him go, letting him drop to the floor with a sickening thud. He looked Brie in the eyes with a cold, lifeless stare.

"P-puh-puh-pleaseee just go!" She let out a sob, not even processing that she was crying. She cowered further into the corner, on her knees.

Without another word they left. She crawled over to Antowine, who had clearly been knocked unconscious. She pressed the ER team button, and held his head in her lap. His glasses had shattered across the floor.

She knew she had to talk to Smoove ASAP.