up, it looks bad on them. It also means that we have an army standing behind us that we didn’t have before.”
With that bit of information, frowns turned into smiles, and eyes were now blazing with interest. I gave the guys shit, but they were smart enough that they would eventually find inventive ways to make the syndicate work in our favor. For now, I was content to stay on their asses until they turned something up that I could be proud of.
They wanted to know what was in it for them now that we had allied with the Vallins and the syndicate. They continued to go back to the question, like I hadn’t heard it the first three or four times.
“We’ll discuss the specifics of this alliance once we work out a few more details and guidelines. For now, it’s business as usual for us.”
Once I adjourned the meeting, the men came up and shook Arjen’s hand. Marshawn asked for a few minutes with me away from the table. We walked a whole ten steps to the back of the room away from the crowd that had gathered around Arjen, asking him about guns.
If Marshawn wanted to catch a bullet by continuing to fuck with me, I was in the right frame of mind to throw him one. I glared at him, my strong gaze raking him up and down as his words went in one ear and pinged off the other. He was being way more persistent than he usually was.
Why was this man continuing to test me when he knew how short my fuse could be?
14
Arjen
Mecca’s men were interested in guns, not knowing that I sold them by the semi-truck load to more legal agencies, than I did to illegal ones. They were talking weapons, but my mind kept lingering back to the view I had gotten of my wife getting dressed this morning.
She assumed I was asleep since she rose so early, but on my way to use the bathroom, I was stopped when I caught sight of her. The light shining down on her in the closet was in contrast to our dark room and put me in the presence of mind of watching a cinematic performance.
How could I not watch Mecca, especially in that moment? My very sexy wife was sitting at the small table positioned in the nook of her large closet, in a black lace bra and panty set cleaning her weapon. The sight had my dick so hard I’d had to hold it down. I should have felt guilty for spying on her, but I didn’t. A part of me believe she had left the door open on purpose.
There was no better view than watching her get dressed, something I had never been interested in seeing from any woman. Usually, I hardly noticed what they had on because my interest was only in taking it off.
Mecca was art in motion, demanding my attention in everything she did. Her hair was always perfect, clothes expensive, and she always smelled like a mixture of heaven, hope, and sunshine. This morning it pleased me to see that she didn’t do much to enhance her beauty, a light stroke of make-up, eyeliner, and a brush of lip gloss.
The finishing touches were her weapons. It wasn’t what I had expected of such a well put together woman. She had taken the most time placing and securing her instruments of destruction, so that they wouldn’t be obvious to outside eyes. If I hadn’t seen her arranging them, I’d have never known she was carrying a gun, a smaller back-up gun, two knives, and two extra clips of ammunition.
Observing the way she had taken care in securing her small arsenal, caused me to speculate if she was strapped with weapons at our wedding. It was becoming apparent that she didn’t go anywhere unprotected. This was part of an explanation for why she didn’t mind putting herself in dangerous situations.
I took in the team of men that worked for her, allowing my gaze to travel over them while studying their behaviors. Now that they realized who I was, their evil glares had turned into something resembling respect, and their lips were looser.
The undeniable respect and admiration in their glares and the tense set in their postures as they observed Mecca is what piqued my interest. It was difficult from an outside perspective to understand their mentality or the dynamic of their behavior where it concerned her.