6. Marcus

"Don't freak out, and don't think I'm nuts; I just like doing shit as it comes; otherwise, there are too many options to choose from. Anyway, I've been thinking about this all night, and the way I see it, I'm not gonna fire them right away."

"You?"

"Yeah!"

"I thought you didn't work for the company?"

"I didn't used to, but Gramps decided he was ready to retire."

"But why not your Dad? Shouldn't he be next in line?"

"He should, but he's not. That's what being the heir apparent means."

"I know, I just always thought that it meant after your father was…. Never mind. Wait a minute, did you say you're not gonna fire them?"

"That's right, if I fire him now while you go through your divorce, he'd have no income, which means no alimony and limited, if any, child support."

"Oh, you're right. I didn't think of that."

"Yeah, like I said, I've been up all night thinking. Let me grab you some eggs." I got up and plated the veggie cheese omelets for both of us, along with toast and fried potatoes. She looked at her plate suspiciously, then took a bite. Her eyes closed, and she moaned the way I imagined she would during sex.

Down boy. Let Daddy do his thing. "You're gonna want to stop doing that right about now."

Her eyes opened, looking dreamy and ready to fuck. Damn, from an omelet? I wonder what she's gonna look like when I cup those plump breasts of hers while stroking into her pussy slow and deep?

"You can cook!"

What? Snap the fuck out of it, Marcus. Do not fuck this up. If you fuck her now, she's gonna look back on this day with guilt. And you're no poacher. You've gone without pussy for long periods of time before, and it didn't hurt you any.

That's what my head was saying, but my dick was on some put-me-in-coach shit. Listen, you two gonna have to get together and figure this shit out.

I say the ball is in play, and we're in the clutch.

No, hold out for love, boss. It'll be more beneficial in the end.

Okay-okay. My heart is a bitch.

He's no fun, that's for sure.

Tell me about it. What was it she'd just said? Oh yeah, cooking.

"Yes, I can, but we'll get back to that later. I'm thinking I'll do some digging to see if your ex-husband has any hidden investments or offshore accounts. We wanna make sure you and your girls get everything you're due."

"How did you know I had girls? Wait, did you use to be a lawyer or something?"

"I'm a little bit of everything, but listen. I'm thinking, while the divorce is going on, we're gonna fuck with them."

"How?"

That's my girl. She sat forward in her seat, and her eyes were aglow. Vengeful little thing, and I do mean little. She's all of five-three, five-four, curvy with a round ass and tits and a waist that dips in over her hips and makes a man think about holding onto them while fucking her from behind.

I can't see why he'd leave her for my toothpick thin, whatever the hell she is, but to each his own. I keep losing my concentration which is a new thing for me. When you spend your life in the most dangerous jungles in the world, you learn to stay focused. I haven't focused since her mic drop back at the hotel.

Well, you better start talking fast because you've been sitting here staring at her with your mouth hanging open like you're about to feed. Well fuck! Don't say feed and don't say mouth; in fact, don't say shit else.

"I'm going to open a daycare on-site for moms and dads who work at the company. You can bring your kids there while you work for me as my executive assistant secretary. That's the first way we're gonna fuck with them."

"You're going to open a daycare just so I can bring my kids to work?"

"Don't worry about it; I've got the specs on everything; it will be done in a month. In the meantime, you look for staff. I want a doctor and a nurse on site. As well as the caretakers."

"Hey, Bruce Wayne, what the hell are you talking about?"

"Haven't you been listening, babe?"

"Do you know how crazy you sound right now? You don't know me from Adam, yet here you are trying to convince me that you're doing all this for me, a woman you just met. And I'm supposed to believe you when the man who I was married to for ten years…."

She broke down and just ugly cried, and I walked over and lifted her from the chair and sat with her in my lap. I didn't say anything; I just let her cry it out. She sat up after a while and rubbed her eyes. "I'm sorry; I feel so stupid crying like this in front of you."

"Don't be. Crying is good, sweetheart. Do you know what tears are? They're a cleansing, a purge. You're releasing all that pain and sorrow. Tears are an expression of emotion. You cry when you're happy; you cry when you're sad. You cry at every pivotal moment in your life, and each of those tears serves a purpose."

She nodded her head and then fell on my chest and cried some more. I folded the fist that wasn't resting against her body and asked myself if maybe she was right after all and I had lost my mind. Maybe the long flight and the quick-change transition from one time zone to another had somehow thrown off my psyche.

Because how else would I explain the rage I felt because she was hurt? I've seen this pain before. Only she was handling it much better than my mother had. Mom had withdrawn, had disappeared into herself until one day, she just wasn't there anymore.

They say it's the pills that killed her, but I know my mother was dead long before that day. No, pull it back. It's best you not go there, not now, not when she needs you. But soon, real soon.

"There's something I have to tell you."

"What is it?"

"The woman, your husband is having the affair with, she's the daughter of the woman who's married to my father." She pulled back to look at me again, and I passed her a napkin to blow her nose.

"Your sister, stepsister?"

"No, she's no relation to me. Her mother is just married to my father, that is all."

"Isn't this going to cause complications with your family?"

"I am the complications in my family. Not to worry. As heir apparent, I have lots of power."

"We have to find you a good lawyer, but that's almost too easy. Unless we find someone that does not mind playing our little game."

"Little game?"

"Yes, the game of cat and mouse."

"You have a real thing against cheating, huh."

"Damn straight. Those two hurt my baby. Can't have that. Finish your eggs, babe; they're getting cold. I put her back in her seat, and we went back to eating.

Me plotting, and she looking at me side-eyed. I know she doesn't believe a word I say, so I'll have to prove it to her. I've got a few months of foreplay already planned out. "We need to talk custody."

"Custody?"

"Am I making you nervous, babe? Why do you keep repeating everything I say? Yes, custody. Now you have to think about this long and hard, but keep a few things in mind. No man who loves his children would hurt their mother. And do you want? What did you call her again? Oh yeah, that grimy bitch around your kids?"

* * *

JUSTINE

* * *

‘If you don't marryhim bitch, I will.'

And how is that supposed to work?

‘I don't know, but I'll figure it out. Girl, he is fiiiiiiine.'

He's also batshit crazy and a whole lotta other shit. Now, hush, so I can figure out a way to get the hell outta here without getting hacked to death.

Just then, there was a knock at the door. "Oh, that'll be Monique and Carl; I figured you should meet them first thing." He opened the door, and there was a military man standing there with a tall, beautiful black woman who looked to be about my age. Didn't he say her son was in his second year of med school?

"Carl, Monique, meet your new mistress. Justine, this is Carl and Monique. You two be nice."

"Ma'am." Carl slightly nodded his head.

"He didn't kidnap you, did he?" Monique asked while glaring at Marcus.

I could only shake my head because she looked ready to take down both men. "You sure? Cause he don't have a lick a sense."

"No, I'm sure, I promise."

"Okay then. Since you got me out here at the ass crack of dawn, you can make me breakfast. And before you twist your mouth to lie, Carl already told me he made a food drop."

She made herself comfortable at the table, and Marcus went back to the stove, muttering something about who's boss or who's the boss? "So, what illegal acts are you getting me involved in this time?" She rolled her eyes.

"Why are you giving my future wife a bad impression of me? Tell her I've never done anything illegal. She tends to not trust me as it is."

"Smart woman. Don't trust him. You can trust everything he says, but don't trust him. He's not exactly what you would call normal." She twirled her finger around her temple, and he smacked her on her fingers with the spatula.

What happened? Was there something in those drinks I had at the bar? No, it was the weed. It was laced with something. When he came over to the table and leaned down to look at me, I pinched his cheek. "You're real? Is he real?" I asked Monique.

"Have mercy; you didn't give her none a that shit you brought back from the Congo, did you? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"I didn't, I promise, I swear. Babe, what's the matter?"

What's the matter? One of the richest men in the world is standing in my kitchen in my Grandmother's apron, I now noticed, with a spatula in his hand, shaking it at a black woman who was yelling at him for who knows what and an ex-Navy SEAL was sitting at my table looking bored.

That hairless motherfucker had driven me crazy. My poor babies.