COMING SOON!

New York Stock broker Robert Greene gets an international war going when he refuses to pay back the money he lost on the stock market to a Memphis, Tennessee crime organization. They put a million on his head...it would have been another routine assassination, but the fact that the Robert is papered up too, he pays a protection agency the required fee to protect him and his daughter.

Byron Anthony never lost a client and was always professional until he meets Theresa Greene, the stockbrokers beautiful daughter...

Chapter 1

“Only winners matter, because nobody cares about losers. Not even the losers themselves...”

 

                Robert Greene, a super successful stock broker and partner at the firm he worked, drove the daily commute from his posh home in Brooklyn to his lucrative business in Manhattan, well known to be New York’s Financial District. Manhattan was the place where all the major players in the state and most all in the nation had some sort of presence. He one-hundred percent considered himself amongst the very elite of those players. 

                Not that he was the richest of them. Not even close. He had only amassed a humble fortune of 62.4 million as of this morning with his recent successes on the stock market. But coming where he came from?

                Dirt poor was an understatement to describe his childhood in the same projects that birthed Shawn Carter, better known to the world as Jay-Z. Marcy.

                His Dad was a no call no show all his life, and his Mom was a prostitute more interested than taking care of her crack habit than her son. Fortunately for him there were enough relatives in the projects that took care of him just enough to keep him from going into the hands of Children Service’s.

                Coach Tuff was his saving-grace in every way imaginable though. Not only did he take interest in Robert and his athletics, but he aggressively took interest in his academics and developing his mind. He was fond of saying. “Only winners matter, because no one cares about losers. Not even losers themselves.” His goal was to help create the ultimate winner in him. On and off the court, and create a winner he did.

                He helped give Robert the mindset of winning, and helped him channel his intelligence to gain a Master’s degree at one of the most prestigious schools in the nations, and perhaps even the world. Harvard. It had taken him every bit of intelligence, networking, and people’s skills he possessed to even be in position to get the sports and academic scholarships he needed to attend.

                What some would fail to recognize of him and his personality, he was as savage as any who grew up in the projects of Marcy. To get to the top he had stepped on, cut throated, and shitted on whoever stood in his way showing no mercy or emotion as he ascended to the top and amassed his wealth.

                With a ruthless sneer on his face, he sped his Mercedes GLS to work, thinking on who he could step on or over to squeeze at least a half-million dollars in profit out of the day. It was a Marcy thing and unless you came from where he did, you'd never understand it.

***

“How are you doing this morning Mr. Greene,” his assistant Ricardo Moore greeted him in somber questioning tone as Robert Greene preferred over that false cheery vibe.

                He learned years ago, to choose a man assistant over a woman one to take sexual temptation and tension out the equation. It was better for making money, and keeping the peace with his fine, but very jealous girlfriend of the moment.

                “I’m doing great. Yourself, Mr. Moore,” he returned the question in his business as usual sounding voice he was renowned for.

                “Everything’s as it should be this morning except for a strange call from Memphis, Tennessee,” he said slightly confused sounding as he double checked his notes and continued. “Yes. Memphis, Tennessee, from a man named Michael Jones?” His tone slightly questioned with no real expectation for an answer.  After 8 months on the job, he knew his boss well, and secrecy he wore around himself like a second skin.

                “Okay, thank you so much Mr. Moore,” not letting the slight alarm that crept into his mind show as he took the morning reports from his assistant before going into his office and firmly shutting the door behind himself to not be bothered.

                Michael Jones, he pondered the name with real thought. His was an interesting story. Michael “Steel Body” Jones was a popular light-heavy weight boxer whose career was derailed by allegations of major drug distribution and death surrounding his name. By time he had gotten the charges cleared up in one way or the other, his time in the boxing world had passed him by. Although, Robert was sure it didn’t overly bother the “boxer” whose heart was really in the streets.

                Michael and his team of men had murdered, robbed, and distributed drugs until all the major earners on their team was ten million or more in the game. Michael being the leader and smartest of the bunch made the decision that they clearly had to diversify their money so that their money could make money for them, and so that it all wouldn’t all be tied to the streets. So, he began to research stock brokers and a brokerage firms. None would deal with him and his breed of business until he meant Robert Greene.

                Michael and his associates had put a surprising $25 million in his hands to not only make clean and legal, but to make huge earnings with. He took this task on with relish, because he liked helping to grow people who were considered “new money”. Helping them secured his future earnings.

                Then the reality of their dirty money showed its ugly face. He had to first get the money clean and reportable. This took roughly 9 months and $8 million of the money to do. Money paid in taxes, bribes, and money laundering schemes, which brought the total to around $17 million or so. With the money now reportable, he began to seriously invest it and had faced some initial losses, but then got to the plus money bringing the money to $24 million by the end of the year they had contracted with him to make their $25 million grow. When they called the money in, after his 10% fee come out, it brought their total to just over $24 million. That total didn’t sit right with the Memphis hustlers.

                For Michael’s part, he understood the amazing feat Robert had done for them in cleaning up their money, and making it legal and usable to a degree. His associates didn’t and not only wanted the money lost, but the profits they believe should be theirs as well. $14 million is what they said was owed to them, and had given him a six-month time span to get it to them.

                He had of course laughed at them, and told them it was money that would not be forth coming. He explained to Michael the process he’d went through to make their money clean and usable, and said that alone was worth his fee. Michael’s response was. “As regrettable as this situation is and while I agree with you, I will not go against the wishes of my associates. They want what they perceive to be their money and have killed for much less. Because I feel like you have done no wrong and provided us a meaningful service, I have talked them into giving you a six-month window of time before seeking to kill you.”

                This talk did nothing to scare him. He was as hood bred and born as anyone else. This talk offended and outraged him. It made him respond in calm, but menacing tones of his own. “While I appreciate your generosity,” he said with heavy sarcasm. “I must regrettably inform you that I will not be giving your organization of thugs, even one penny at the end of six months. I’m Marcy’s projects very own son. No bitch in my blood. If you want $14 mill off me, come get it the hard way son.” Then he had clicked on the call not thinking much on it other than an attempt to bully and extort money out of him. After all, he worked in a secure and protected building, drove bulletproofed cars, and had a highly-trained security team of people protecting his home that he and the other influential residents of his neighborhood employed. He wasn’t worried about anything. Except…….. His daughter! How could he forget about protecting his baby girl!

                Theresa Greene, she was twenty-three and his sole weak spot on this earth. He would be nothing without her. Before he returned the call to Michael to inform him that he would not be making that payment of $14 million to him and his associates, he had to make a call to get his daughter protected from her father’s mistakes. He’d be damned if he’d let her fall into the line of fire. So, he picked up the phone and made the call to the man code named “The Protector”.

                 

       

 

 

 

Chapter 2

“Anybody’s life can be taken. It’s just the matter of perfect planning and execution”

               

Michael “Steel Body” Jones was relaxed. He was face down while he received a massage from his half black and Hispanic wife of Dominican decent, Arianna Torres.

                He’d met her in his boxing days. He had first noticed her sitting ringside by herself attentively watching the fight as if she knew what was going on. Come to find out she did. She had bet big and on him. It was a fight he’d been promoted as the underdog who’d be lucky to get out the first four rounds after the “champ” at the time, Brandon “Other World” Jordan, established himself and got in rhythm. This was not to be the way of the fight.

                He knew he was the superior fighter of the two before the fight started. They were comparable in size, height and weight, and even in arm length. There was the matter of heart and true grit though. In those arenas, they were in no way comparable to one another.

                He had carefully watched all the fights of the alleged “Other World” boxer and was not impressed. His managers had done a great job in picking matches for him that suited his skillsets and boxers with reputation that were in decline. It was masterful on their part, but a clear formula to eventually set their boxer up for a big fall. They made a mistake in choosing to have their boxer fight him.

                Yes, he’d struggled to win his battles, but they were battles because he went after the best, which lead him down the path of having a 9-2-1 record by the time Brandon’s management team approached him with the opportunity to fight their boxer. He leaped at the opportunity. Vegas had the odds 4 to 1 in the favor of Brandon “Other World” Jones. He was Memphis, Tennessee stock though. They’d learn about going against a country boy of his pedigree.

                He remembered it like it was yesterday. Offended and knowing this was the fight to thrust him into the upper echelon of the boxing world, when the bell rang he went out there with calm determination. On the other hand, his opponent that was sick of hearing the talk from other boxers how he was a soft bred; came out with a chip on his shoulder trying to win the fight early. Doing so set himself up for failure.

                Michael “Steel Body” Jones made him pay for his impatient and aggressive fighting. Every time he opened himself up swinging a powerful, but overplayed combination of punches. Michael had patiently ducked, bobbed, and weaved them all, with vicious counters that left the crowd stunned in their deadly accuracy and viciousness. By the end of round one it was clear who the true underdog was.

                In round two, Brandon had fought a smarter fight, but he had already lost the mental battle in round one. Even though he would never admit it to anyone, he went out into round two fearful for his life. He now knew his opponent was much more vicious than he’d thought.

                This cautiousness, alongside the damage and fatigue sustained in round one would undue him. It was now Michael who had turned into the aggressor and pounded his opponent with flurry after flurry, all the while brushing aside his counters as the feeble attempts they were. At the end of round two the only question was what round Michael would knock him out in. It came in the seventh.

                In the seventh round of the twelve-round fight, Michael seeing that he had beaten his opponent in every way imaginable, decided to end it. Feeling not one bit of pity, he closed the distance on him and the fighter that had until this day been 17-0-0, and unleashed the flurry that would see him down for the count 30 seconds into the seventh round. After the knock-out which was stunning in its strategic cunning and power, the crowd was silent for a while. Then as if a flood gate was released, applause broke out and a new boxing legend was born in the light- heavyweight division.

                After the fight, Ariana had approach him at the after party and gave him a $10,000 “tip” explaining. “I made a lot of money off of you tonight”

                “What made you put your money on me he had asked?”

                “I watched film on both of you. He was clearly soft. I could tell he fought in well picked fights. You picked real boxers in their prime that tested you and helped you grow as a boxer. Your last three fights went to the decision, but were flawless in execution. You were an easy choice.”

                Liking her response, he responded with a question. “What lucky man has the pleasure to have you as their wife?”

                “No one yet,” she said smiling in a welcoming way.

                “Could you give a humble Memphis boy your number then?”

                She laughed. “Babe, there isn’t anything humble about you. But you can have my number. I really like your style country boy. Besides, I heard you were into things I may be able to help you out with.”

                “Like what?” he questioned with fake innocence.

                Laughingly she said. “We’ll talk about that when the time is right. Enjoy your win and celebrate.”

                “I want to celebrate my win with you at the casino. Tonight, you can be my luck.”

                “Really?” She questioned with a raised eyebrow.  

                “Really,” he answered knowing that she was something special.

                He took the ten thousand she’d given him that night and tripled it. From that day forward, he didn’t go a day without her by his side. She was all the luck he needed and her head for numbers was out this world. It didn’t hurt that she was as beautiful as any women that ever walked this earth surface. He had no choice but to make her his wife eight months after they meant in her country The Dominican Republic.  She was the first woman he’d ever been fully faithful too and always would be. She was his heart until his dying day.

                “What are you going to do about the Robert Greene situation?” She asked in soothing tones as she continued to massage his back as was her custom when the streets were trying to put pressure on her babe.

                “Truthfully, I wish I could dead the situation. The man really did what he was supposed to do with the money in the time allotted, but my niggaz don’t understand what he did. There’s just a small matter of the unwritten policy we have that wrong or right, you don’t go against the family. So,” he threw out there with a relaxed shrug of his shoulder.

                “So, that means you have to kill a man not deserving of it?” She questioned somewhat challengingly.

                “That’s for his God to decide. I’ve killed and had men killed that were of a far more innocent nature than him. I’m not going to veto the move against the money or his life. What good reason do I have to do that? The goodness of our Mr. Greene,” he said with sarcasm. “At the end of the day, whether right or wrong, it’s just another money move.”

                “A potentially costly money move when you get to the root of it.”

                “There is risk to everything.”

                “But this man is an influential New York City stock broker, who lives and works in protected environments.”

                He looked back over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow and said with contempt for these so-called protected environments. “Anybody’s life can be taken. It’s just the matter of proper planning and execution.”

                “I know Honey it’s just…..”

                “Wife,” he said as he did the rare occasions he cut her off.

                “What husband?”

                “I hear your concern and take note of them, but Two Toned Toney and Black Soul are going up there to link with your cousin Antonio to figure out how to get this done if we don’t get word from him soon. The best I can do is to give him a week-long grace period. That’s more than he deserves.”

                “Okay, honey. You got it my King”

                Laughingly he responded. “Now you’re playing with my ego Queen?”

                “Never,” she said with a small smile. “Would I do that?” She questioned playfully.

                “Yes. Yes, you would,” he laughed. “But in a classy way as always.”

                Done with being passive and allowing the woman who was his world to pamper him, he suddenly turned over, sprang off the bed, and then captured his wife in his arms before allowing his thick lips to descend on her even fuller mocha colored ones. His deep dark chocolate skin was always a sexy contrast to her mocha colored skin.

                Kissing her as if he was trying to steal her soul with her heart, he wrapped his hands around her slender waist to lift her up on top of the table he was just laying on. Then he broke the kiss to urgently remove her shirt. Then in the next moment he turned her over to her stomach, and pulled the boy shorts she’d had on smoothly down her body revealing an ass that could have delighted any man’s dreams and thighs that could have played any sport known to man. This woman was built as a gift given directly from the God of Heaven Himself.

                Spreading her thighs, he began to kiss up the backs of them like a trail leading to a hedonistic paradise. He changed the path of his kisses from the back to the inner thighs not even planning to play games with her, he buried his face in between her thighs and parted the lips of her already gushing womanhood with his tongue going in like it was on a mission to save her clit from drowning in the juices her body was producing in an uncontrollable way.

                He swirled his tongue around her clit in a way that made her legs tremble as she reached for things that didn’t even exist. Then he latched his lips onto her clitoris and sucked on it in a way that that made her want to pull away from the intense pleasure even as she pushed her throbbing pussy into his mouth ravishing her body and showing her no mercy as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her.

                He was a man that knew his woman very well, and he enjoyed giving her the pleasure she deserved. It was his duty as a man.

                Giving her clitoris on last deep suck into his mouth, he relinquished his control on her soul only long enough to relieve himself of the basketball shorts he wore alone.

                Once they hit the ground, he climbed up on the table behind until his thick nine inches loomed above her throbbing womanhood waiting on him like the blooming of a spring flower, with the dew of the morning still upon it.

                He used one hand to firmly place the thick head of his lengthy member against her throbbing opening that split in juicy welcome to his extremely hard length that throbbed in anticipation of penetrating his beloved wife, and the other hand to hold her still, so she didn’t run from the combined pleasure and pain of his penetration of her.

                He was turned on to the point he thought he might bust from watching her perfect ass clench and unclench from the pleasurable pain she felt with every inch of his throbbing member penetrating her. He gritted his teeth to fight the temptation he felt to spill his seed in his beautiful wife’s womb way to prematurely.

                “Ahh… fuck. Damn babe……. It’s so gooood,” she said as he pushed the last inch of his thick length into her delectable body.

                When he had fully penetrated her, he took a moment to pause as he got his bearings strait. When he knew he had it, he gritted his teeth, and began to rotate his hips as he fucked her with short deep strokes causing her to grind up into him at an angle that gave his already large member a deeper angle to penetrate her depths.

                “Oh my god…. You’re in my stomach babe,” she moaned

                Now in supreme control and ready to thoroughly own her he placed both of his hands on her waste and proceeded to pound her out like today was the last time they’d ever see each. With a sneer, he pounded in and out of her body with long deep strokes that made her ass clap around his dick like a stripper trying to make a trick nigga throw a hundred k.

                When he felt her stiffen he knew he had caused her to have an intense orgasm and slowed his stroke while she convulsed beneath him. When her convulsions slowed to mere tremors, he gently helped turn her over.

                “Te amo,” she said fiercely in Spanish. “Eres mi Corazon”

                He didn’t know much Spanish, but he knew this roughly translated to, “I love you. You are my heart.” The words made him gently bend down to capture her lush lips before entering her body again. Now he set a more languid pace because her words had induced his more tender side. As she wrapped her legs around him, he knew it would be a long night.

SNEAK PEEK

*unedited*

Copyright 2017 by Major Key Publishing LLC

All rights reserved.

info@majorkeypublishing.com

516 Sosebee Farm Road #257

Grayson, GA 30017

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