Page 3 of Labria

Chapter Two

LABRIA

The hours didn’t move fast or slow, which didn’t give me any comfort whatsoever. I had work to do, and I preferred being busy. Too much idle time gave me too much time to think about my future and how it changed so quickly and drastically.

I couldn’t wait to get back home to Lord. Our morning together was magical, and I reminisced on those feelings all throughout the day at work. His smell, his touch— sexy. I wanted more. I could never get enough of him.

It had only been a little over nine hours at the job, but I missed him. Hopefully, we could go out for dinner tonight. Anywhere but one of the restaurants the Bregoli’s owned would be a good place to go.

I treasured anytime I had a chance to be alone with Lord. The damn Bregoli’s or their shady associates were anywhere I turned. You couldn’t walk four full Naomi Campbell runway steps with bumping into one of them Sicilian pasta primavera eating motherfuckas.

Lord’s new elevated position in that criminal organization, along with his businesses back home, made it hard for us to spend quality time together. My man was in the cult. He was buying the tracksuit, drinking the Kool-Aid and wearing Nikes. His boss and cult leader was he Don aka Nicco aka Jim Jones. Lord moved me from Chicago to Vegas, aka Jonestown. I was trying to make the most out of a situation that I wasn’t cool with.

I was being spoiled in every way imaginable. He gave me jewelry, flowers and luxury gifts. I was being taken care of and that made me feel like an ungrateful woman when I bickered with Lord.

Dave, my driver, took me to work every morning and took me home after work. I refused to call him a chauffeur. That just didn’t sound right coming from my middle class background.

Dave knew his way around town. I wasn’t slow. I knew he wasn’t just a driver. Dave was also my bodyguard. Apparently I needed special protection because of Lord’s new position as underboss. They regarded me as family, or a valuable asset by BMF association. Therefore, I was deemed important enough to have a trained and armed bodyguard. Lucky me, but not really. It all just seemed so weird.

The Bregoli family wasn’t just a family; they were a very dangerous organization. I tried not to think about it. I tried to throw a thermal light and noise-canceling curtains over everything I’d seen, heard or knew.

I left a good thirty minutes early. I didn’t have any stops on the way home from work. My driver took me straight home. Driving up the entire landscape looking so well manicured and pretty. The grass was the brightest green. The flowers were blooming brightly. I picked the house, so I loved everything about it, inside and out. I just wished Lord were here more to enjoy it with me.

Lord’s bulletproof black Mercedes was parked right in the circular driveway. This was the way he rolled now that he was the number two guy in BMF. I couldn’t believe I was home early today. It had to mean something. I just didn’t know what.

I entered through the front door and dropped my briefcase and purse on the table behind the sofa. The entire house was quiet, and I thought about how it would sound with kids running around. I needed the diamond ring first. Beyoncé said if you like it, then you should’ve put a ring on it. She was spitting facts on facts. I needed a real proposal, not just pillow talk. After everything I’d been through with this man, I didn’t think that was too much to ask.

After stopping in the kitchen to contemplate what we were having for dinner, if going out wasn’t an option, I started heading up the staircase. I removed my shoes when I reached the top landing. I bent to pick my pumps up to carry them in my hands. I should’ve taken my shoes off before I climbed the stairs. Next time.

A single raised baritone stopped me in my tracks. I could hear Lord on the phone barking. He wasn’t exactly yelling into the phone. But I could tell he was very agitated, and the sound was coming directly from our bedroom.

I probably should’ve made my presence known, but trust was something Lord and I were still working on. I wanted to know whom he was pissed with. I needed to know who got my man heated. I was willing to throw hands for this man.

“Nicco, I’ve never met these people… I don’t speak the Mandarin. You know that. His people could say anything in their language, and I wouldn’t know what was going on… It doesn’t make sense for me to go meet with this guy… Where the fuck is Frankie? … I know that, but he’s the Chicago capo. This is his job… You didn’t prepare me for this… I don’t know any of these people. There were no introductions made…Yeah, I need to go back to Chicago but for my own business, not for your bullshit… Call Frankie and you can’t get Frankie to handle this? … How important is it? … Fine, fine, I’ll fly out in an hour…I want to get this over with… We need to find this cocksucker. Bria almost died again because of you.”

I stood idle in the hallway, eavesdropping on the angry conversation. I was fuming even before the mention of my name. What did he mean, Bria almost died? Coming to Vegas has been a shit show since day one.

I leaned in to listen even further. I needed to know what exactly Lord was talking about, especially because it had to do with me.

“First someone shoots up your vehicle, then someone plants a car bomb in your Bentley that was supposed to pick up my girlfriend and take her to the airport… No, no, it’s not the past. She could’ve died because you have all these arbitrary enemies out in the world that you can’t seem to take care of… You’re sorry. You’re sorry. Lefty is dead and Fredo’s wife is dead. That lady’s daughter is an orphan. You had a hand in the death of both for her parents and I’m not going to even talk about her little brother… Fuck me! No one is wiretapping this fucking phone. You’re so fucking paranoid… My point is, you have to protect your people.”

I heard the call end as Lord let out a hiss. “Fuck!” He spewed loud enough to wake a dead person’s ancestors.

My entire body was hot with rage. I couldn’t believe what I heard. Now everything was adding up and making sense. Basically, the math was mathing. Three months ago, I could feel something was wrong when I boarded the Bregoli’s private jet from Chicago to Vegas. Everyone on the flight was irritated and antsy. At the time, I couldn’t figure out what was going on. Now I know the bodyguard they called lefty was killed in an explosion back in Illinois. An explosion that could’ve taken my Black ass out.

No one but Lord knew I could speak and understand Italian. I had gotten bits and pieces of information listening in on conversations from the security crew. I couldn’t believe Lord withheld this information for me. He did. I heard him on the phone. I could’ve been burned alive. All of this because Nicco sent a car to pick me up from my sister’s house when he coaxed me back to Vegas to make up with Lord.

If I’d gotten my dumb ass into his vehicle, I wouldn’t be here right now. My sister would’ve had to bury me with a closed casket if there were more than ashes left of my remains.

Two people died in that explosion. In what world was it okay to not even bother to tell me about this? I put the pieces of the information together on my own. Withholding things was the same as lying. I’d had this conversation with Lord so many times before this revelation. He wasn’t protecting me when he kept things from me. He was pushing me away.

I strolled the few steps to our bedroom entrance. In the doorway, I stood. I waited there impatiently until he noticed me, and the scowl painted on my face. He hadn’t noticed me at all, so I mounted there frozen in place and seething.

Lord had already grabbed his wheeled suitcase from the closet. He was removing clothes from the chest of drawers and packing them into the suitcase when he glanced over to see me glaring at him.

“Oh, you’re home.” His tone was even now, but that didn’t comfort me.

I rotated my eyes. I couldn’t help it. “Yes, I’m home.”

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