Discover Top Posts Tagged with #!mayhem!

Chapter One

[warnings] - Violence, foul language, blood, gore, suggestive themes, threats on women.

[summary] - Naira and Ziva's lives change when they meet Phil Brooks and Randy Orton. While living the high life, they are introduced to the underground world of organized crime. Between managing their relationships and their personal lives, both women wonder if it's all worth it. Everything that glitters ain't gold, but it's a risk they are willing to take.

Main Writers : @keyaho & @zillasvilla

previous chapter

Naira started her mornings early. Usually sneaking out of the house before Phil woke up. She wasn’t in the mood to talk with him, nor think about the events of last night. She just grabbed her purse, keys and slipped out the side door of the kitchen to her car. Her office held a private bathroom with a shower in it. Getting there at six in the morning would give her three hours of peace and a chance to try and call her sister. Even as she showered and dressed herself for the day, Ziva still screened all of her calls. She stopped, not wanting to get blocked and continued with her business to prepare for what would be another busy night. Field Mob’s music blared through the club’s speakers as it was inventory day. Shipments of new wines, decor, and other house essentials needed to be stocked in the back storage rooms.

“Florecer.”(blossom) A knock comes to the door. Naira looks up from her planner to see Damien had leaned against the door with his arms crossed. “You’re here early. “

“As are you.” Naira stands and walks around the table. “You stayed the night here again.” She noted the way his face had been freshly washed, his hair still partially wet and dripping onto his shoulders. “You know Phil is okay with you staying in the guest house.”

“I don’t want to impose.” Damian sits in the chair behind her desk at her request. She moved towards the black storage cabinet—the bottom drawer being pulled open revealed a box of hair products. Damien had to slouch so she could reach, even in the platform converses she wore, he towered over her while sitting. Naira stood behind him and brushed through his hair. His eyes closed to the relaxing motions of her hands. “I made sure the new girls got home safe.”

“How are they doing?” Naira asked.

Phil demanded a lot of her attention when they prepared for Randy’s release, while also dealing with their own priorities. She spent more time in business meetings, day trips, and social events than she did with her own business. That was going to change as she hoped they would be back in Chicago sooner rather than later.

“They’re….okay.” Damien pauses. “They miss Chicago and The Pedway.”

“Randy is out. We have a few more days, just so he can get his footing back.” She says, using the rat tail to part down the middle of his head. "I can't leave until I have a suitable replacement to manage the club and the new girls understand my policies and standards."

Naira had been searching for reputable managers in the area, but each one she interviewed and allowed to have an interim position, never lasted long or lived up to her high expectations. The women she hired were ruthless in terms of their attitudes and the way they spoke to supervisors. The fear of Randy and Phil correcting them had been the only reason they listened to Naira. They had no other choice considering they would be fired for disrespect. She needed more, she needed someone just as dedicated as she was. Someone who wasn’t easily intimidated.

“I think I know someone…if you're interested.”

A lot had been on her mind and business needed to be handled before she could fully enjoy the rest of the day. Outside her office. The Winx Club had been buzzing with girls coming in to stock the dressing rooms, help with inventory, or potentially meet with clients to discuss contracts. The garage styled doors were towards the back of the lounge, slowly opening on the motors to let in the natural light from the sun. The bright neon colors looked pastel during the day, setting a peaceful vibe before the chaos of another night at the playhouse.

The stage had been set up further away from the bar, surrounded by smaller circular tables and cushioned armchairs. On stage was one of the newest dancers who had been rehearsing her set for the night. A fresh face always attracted the biggest crowds and this new face was quickly becoming a favorite. Her skin glowed under the lighting as she moved across the stage like she owned it, using her body to seduce the imaginary audience in her head. Naira watched as she stood in front of the floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the vast space. She was picky when it came to selecting people to work for her, especially in an establishment so underground, you only knew by word of mouth or invitation.

Damien still brought a new set of girls every week, some lasting longer than others, but this one? She’d only been here for six months and had already tripled Naira’s profits in just three of those. She was impressed and while others had to wait a full working year before expanding their skills, this time was different. Damien stood next to her with his arms crossed, freshly braided hair now tucked under a black beanie. “I think Melina is better served in a managerial position than as a dancer...her degree in business management and ownership reflects that.”

Naira went back to her desk, clearing it off to put things back in its designated spot. In place of it had been a separate binder with several important pieces of documentation, medical reports, non-disclosures and fresh new contracts inside of it. Next to it had been a set of uniform shirts, designed to fit each dancer’s aesthetic, but on top rested a waiver that not many girls signed to remain employed at The Winx Club. Damien slipped out the door just as she looked up.

“Taelor, once Melina is done, send her to my office.” Naira spoke to the other person in the room who had been going through the new shipment of alcohol to be inventoried and placed into stock.

“Yes ma’am, I think she’s done now.” Taelor places the bottles back carefully, stepping out of the room with a rushed greeting to Randy stepping into the room. “Mr. Orton.”

“Is she scared of me?” Randy laughs, making Naira roll her eyes in annoyance.

Randy only ever showed up when he knew he did a little too much. The first time she was at one of Phil’s exhibitions. His fight against Seth, brought her face to face with a woman she thought she got away from, and a relationship she wished to erase. Naira barely remembers much about that night, only remembering how sorry her boyfriend had been the next day. A couple weeks later, Randy had given her keys to where The Winx Club sits now.

“Some people actually work for a living, Randall.” Naira finally looks at him, noting the flowers in his hand, Her favorite that only her boyfriend Phil would know to get her. He wanted something. “What do you want?”

“Straight to the point, I like that.” Randy places the crystal vase on her desk. “Where’s your sister?”

“After the way she put a knife to your throat."

His welcoming home party had gone awry the moment Phil let him call orders to the moment Randy accused Runnels of setting them up, and for once she believed him, but she was still mad. Ziva wasn’t returning her calls, and even if she did, she wasn’t going to tell Randy.

"Foreplay." He shrugs. "I know she likes me."

"I do-'

Randy holds up a hand, cutting her off. “Don’t tell me you don’t know.”

He got on her nerves sometimes and as much as she wanted to respect her sister’s privacy. Ziva was into him just as much as he was into her.

“The basement needs renovations, especially if you and Phil are going to be bringing back Apex Extreme.”

“My guys are already on it.” He pulls out his phone to make a note on the ‘honey do’ list as Phil liked to call it.

It was just a list of things that needed to be done to make her life and the playhouse run smoothly. Randy knew last night was a lot on Naira, between Cody, him, Brandi and having to explain her fancy life to her sister. That was a lot of stress on her considering they were in his territory because of Cody. It was only fair he showed his appreciation, but not without knowing where Ziva was first. “I’ll have Bautista check it out.”

Ziva was going to beat her ass. “She has a salon called Naja.”

A knock came to the door just as Randy opened it to leave. “Oh tell Phil I'll be over tonight.”

He brushes past the woman standing in the door looking between him and Naira as she shakes her head.

“Don’t come empty handed.” She returns to the papers in her desk. “Melina, come in.”

Melina steps further in, letting the door close behind her. It was rare anyone got called to Naira’s office, unless you were promoted or being let go. Melina had been a rookie dancer for months, despite having the most attraction sales, and offers from other patrons. Still, she couldn’t say yes to private clients like the other girls, only ever left to dance on the stage or bar service.

“You wanted to see me?”

“Your dancing is pretty impressive, a lot of the patrons have been asking for you specifically.”

“I know the policy,” Melina explains quickly, thinking maybe one of the girls tried to get her in trouble or if patrons were requesting her nonstop. Naira had a strict policy of her new girls not taking on private clients for a full year. It was a precaution she took to make sure none of them felt pressured into doing something they weren’t comfortable with. Melina was grateful, not sure if she even wanted to partake in that side of the club. “I haven-”

Naira cuts her off with a wave of her hand. “Have a seat.” She nods to the chair in front her desk.

Melina noticed the specially designed clothes sitting in the one next to it as she moved slowly to sit down.

“I think it’s time we start discussing clientele preferences. Particularly one.”

“One?” Melina is confused, most of the girls here, had at least two or three men on their roster they rotated between. The more clients, the more money, the more well off you would be.

Naira slides a folder across the table towards her along with some other papers that she picked up first. On it had been a picture of an older gentleman. His skin was lightly tanned compared to the other pictures. His dark brown hair that usually hung low was pulled back into a pony-tail to showcase his sharp features. “Morrison is one of my V.I.P. patrons and business partners. I’m sure you two are well acquainted.”

Melina is confused until another picture is placed on the table in front of her. In this one she had been out for lunch on her day off. Her being out wasn’t the problem, it was who she was with that was. Morrison.

“I didn’t know, I ran into–”

Naira cuts her off. “He’s been coming to me directly to request you.” She states then leans back in her chair. “I see no issue in letting you start early….”

“Mrs. Naira…” Melina starts.

“However, Morrison is a selfish man, he doesn’t like to share, Melina.” Naira looks at her. “Should you decide, you will no longer be able to work here.”

“What does…what does he want from me?”

Naira shrugs. “From the way he talks about you in our meetings. It's pure attraction on his end.”

Melina is now confused. She loved her job and she loved dancing no matter what form it was in. She felt free, like she had control over her own body. It was rare she found a location that let her have the control she does. She had no desire to leave it and she knew no one wanted to leave. She wasn’t a housewife nor did she dream to be one.

“I would have to decline.”

‘I figured you would say that.” Naira crosses one leg over the other. From what Damien has told her about Melina’s past, she knew the woman wasn’t going to let this place go that easily. “I came to an agreement with Morrison–”

“On my behalf?” Melina was ready to check her, but the look on Naira’s face let her know to be quiet and let her finish.

“Thank you, as I was saying. I agreed to take you off the stage if you could remain employed here in a managerial position.”

“Wha-?”

“It's a simple yes or no.”

♰⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘♰⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘♰

The Marcel curlers twirled in Ziva's hands as she prepped them to press her clients hair. The salon was bustling as always, chatter was loud, and the barbershop next door's music was vibrating through the walls. Ziva's entire weekend had been decompressing and screening her sister's calls. She wasn't sure how to feel about what she had witnessed. She had her own secrets, but she kept the two worlds separate. Blurring them was not an option.

Her assistant walked over. She looked unsettled. "Um Ziva, there's a white man out there looking for you."

"A white……girl what,' Ziva looked up from her client's head.

Randy was leaning against the receptionist desk with his eyes on her. Taking a deep breath, Ziva placed her curlers back in the silver stove to keep them hot. She excused herself from her client and walked towards the desk, arms folding across her chest.

"What are you doing here?"

"You look good."

Her black body suit and matching heeled sandals wasn't an attempt to look good. It was her usual work wear and sometimes she wore cardigans and sneakers which was usually around wedding season. She reached up, running a hand over her head before grabbing her pony tail and tossing it over her shoulder.

"I know."

Randy smiled. "You still have a slick mouth." He glanced at her hands.

Dark bruises covered her knuckles and she had a few scratches on her face. That was the worst Alexa had done. It was an unfair fight, but Ziva didn't care.

"Naira has your card. I need to get back to work."

As she turned to walk away, Randy straightened up. He looked around the space and found a seat in the corner.

"I'll wait."

"Huh,' she says, skidding to a stop as she snaps her head back around. "For what?"

"You."

By now, the shop was trying hard not to stare. They knew Ziva was over dramatic and her fuse was short, but seeing someone challenge that was entertaining. He ignored her, crossing his leg over his knees while scrolling on his phone. Ziva huffed. She was trying to forget the past few days and a huge reminder of that sat in her waiting room. His all black made him stand out. The long sleeved Henley shirt was unbuttoned at the top and his sleeves were rolled up.

She put her back to him, focusing on her client who was hiding a smirk.

“He’s cute.” She said.

Ziva met eyes with Gianna, a long term client who had a standing appointment every two weeks.

“He’s my sister's boyfriend's friend.”

“But he’s here to see you?”

Ziva rolled her eyes. "I don't know what he is here for."

The lie didn't even feel right on her tongue. She knew why Randy was here. Half the night she caught him staring at her and when the fight happened, he still scanned the crowd to see where she was. However, seeing him in that ring…beating someone couldn't be forgotten.

Her next two clients made similar comments and all the while, Randy stayed in the corner. Either his eyes were on his phone, glancing out the window, or watching her. Ziva wasn't new to male attention. When she went out they looked, approached, tried to get her number, but this was different. He moved like they were already together.

She was putting in a supply order when he cornered her in the back. His body took up space in the door frame, giving her no room to run.

"You hungry?" He asked.

"Why are you here,' she sighed.

Randy didn't see the confident woman from two nights ago. Instead, Ziva was resigned. She looked tired.

"That's not how anyone should be welcomed." He says. "There was just some business I needed to handle and that's how I prefer."

"You didn't have to travel to my shop to tell me that." Ziva turned back to her iPad, filling the cart with more products to stock up on.

"Yeah I did." He takes a step closer, cautiously, stopping when she cuts him a look from the corner of her eye. "It's the least I could do after the fight."

"Well, you've done it." She looks up. "You don't need to wait around anymore."

Randy wasn't a chaser. He never showed enough interest in anyone to chase them the way he was hunting Ziva down. "Let me make it up to you."

"Why?" She inquired. "You have a girlfriend,"

"We both know she's not my girlfriend. Please."

Ziva put down the iPad and folded her arms over her chest. "Just say what you want, Randy. Be direct."

"I want you. Simple as that."

She kept her arms folded, so when he leaned down in front of her there was a barrier between them. Eye to eye, Ziva tried to keep eye contact but ended up looking away.

"....and it's obvious you're into me. So let me be in to you."

He pulled her closer with a hand on her waist, never breaking eye contact. Ziva's breathing quickened, Randy's intense gaze stilled her. His hand slid down her back. His mouth found hers, coaxing her into a kiss they both had thought about happening. She should have pushed him away. Everything about him was dangerous and wrong and the opposite of what she knew she needed for herself.

He pulled back just enough to whisper against her lips. "Je te briserais bien en deux. Mais je te promets que ça te ferait du bien." ("I absolutely would break you in half. But I promise it would feel good.")

"Tu parles français?" ("You speak French?")

"Mhm." He ran his nose along her neck, holding her head to the side to expose it to his mouth. "Oui. Né et élevé à Marseille." (Yes. Born and raised in Marseille.")

Ziva's arms dropped and that was the green light Randy needed. He palmed the back of her thighs and lifted her up until her legs were over his arms. She grabbed onto his shoulders with a look of surprise on her face. He picked her up with ease before but this was different. The connotation was evident. Randy stood like that for a few minutes, then lowered her to the floor. Her hands slide down his arms, feeling the muscles beneath her fingers.

"You're going to explain everything to me."

"I am?"

Ziva nodded. "I watched you beat a man until he was bleeding and losing his teeth."

Leaning back against her counter, he crossed his legs at the ankles. His eyes trailed over Ziva standing in front of him.

"I can beat up more than that."

Heat flushed through her body making her cheeks warm.

"You know what I think needs to be explained to you,' he asks, voice low-almost a whisper. "Tu dois savoir que lorsque je te mettrai enfin dans mon lit, tu me le supplieras. Et je te le donnerai encore et encore, Ziva." ("You need to hear that when I finally get you in my bed, you will be begging me for it. And I'll give it to you over and over and over again, Ziva.")

"Oh mon Dieu." ("Oh my god.")

"I prefer, baise-moi Randy,' he shrugs, seeing her mouth part slightly. "But, you will be screaming for me and that's a promise." ("Fuck me, Randy.")

Ziva rarely lets herself date men. She had a situationship with a longtime friend, but they had clear boundaries. Ziva liked to explore, but it had been a while since a man made her feel so desperate.

"Think about it,' he reaches out and trails his finger down her exposed cleavage, fingers dipping down into the v-cut of her bodysuit. .

She did more than think about it. He caught her eyes dropping to his crotch before she looked away, hands rubbing at her face. She pushed his hand away and tried to look annoyed, but the desire in her eyes was there.

"A good fuck might straighten that attitude out."

Ziva's punch startled him, but he recovered with a laugh.

"I'm here to make things right and you're still hitting me?"

Ziva snatched up the iPad. "You're being disgusting."

"I can be filthy."

Pushing her towards the wall, his hand drops to the back of her neck. He tugs on her pony tail, tilting her head back so she had to look up at him. Randy slid his other hand to her thigh, tugging her leg upwards so it was around his waist. His other hand takes the iPad and drops it back on the counter.

"Let me show you I'm a nice guy."

"If you were nice you wouldn't have to say it."

Using his body, he pressed her into the wall. Her legs spread again to accommodate him. She almost raised them to wrap around his waist.

"I can be nice enough."

When they kissed this time, Randy wrapped his hand around her throat and stroked her flesh with his thumb. His tongue caressed hers while she clenched her fists at her sides. There was no point in fighting it, but he was still a jerk. Ziva's hands moved beneath his shirt and the tips of her nails grazed over his stomach and chest. Catching him off guard, Randy groaned, peeling his lips away to look down where her hands were beneath his shirt.

"Careful,' he humors her touch for a few more seconds, then slides her hands down. "Voulez-vous que le salon vous entende crier?" (Do you want the salon to hear you screaming?")

"No,' she replied softly.

"I'll be in the truck outside. Close up or whatever you need to do to take off for a few days."

"What? Why!"

Before she could rile herself up, he tapped her lips with his fingers.

"Trust me, you'll enjoy it."

♰⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘♰⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘♰

The front door slammed shut behind Phil as he stepped into the entryway to remove his shoes. He tossed his into the marble bowl next to Naira’s. Stacks of mail piled up on the table, bills and probably invitations to several charity events hosted by the governor of Chicago. Another thing he would have to convince Naira was important. It wouldn’t be hard if she didn’t have an attitude. Phil had been tiptoeing around her all day. She wasn’t talking to him and that was new to him. His usual pop-up visits to her job were replaced with business meetings, staff huddles, and inventory. Their daily lunch meetups paused. If he didn’t understand her frustration, he would’ve been upset she stood him up.

The sound of clinking dishes and running water pulled his attention. Naira. She had just gotten home herself and was unpacking the brown takeout bags of Indian food that flooded his senses. He didn’t say a word as he walked into the kitchen to wash his hands at the sink, using the brown kitchen towel to dry his hands afterwards. Even if they weren’t speaking, they moved alongside each other in sync to set up their spots on the other side of the island.

Before Naira could sit down. Phil wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her into his arms to press a kiss to her cheek. She doesn’t move, her attitude evident through the corners of her curled mouth, and a roll of her eyes. Naira wasn’t upset, just annoyed at the situation.

“What else do I gotta do to prove I’m sorry.” Phil looks at her, he hates the feeling of her being upset and standoffish with him. He was a lover boy, and had to have his hands on her in any kind of way.

Having to sleep in the guest room because of last night, was something he didn’t want to experience again. He had done her ‘honey do’ list he kept pushing off. Minor repairs were done around the fixer upper of a house they compromised on for her lounge, and a few new pieces of jewelry to add to her collection. He even sent Randy to apologize with her favorite flowers–now that he was thinking about it, Randy probably didn’t even ‘apologize’ for real. The stargazer lilies were now sitting on the coffee table in the living room, and the basement renovation plans were spread out across the living room floor.

“I just want to eat Jack.” She sighs. Naira wasn’t too upset, considering she was referring to him by middle name instead of Phil like she had last night.

“I know I just thrusted you into this life and I don't know that history with you, Cody and Brandi. But with this life comes the territory.” He tells her. He did everything possible to keep Naira away from Apex and that part of his life during the early stages of their relationship, rarely ever inviting her out to the promotions, never knowing when a show might become work. The truth was still bound to bleed over into their personal life. “I’m sorry for putting your sister through that, but I’m not sorry for the side you’re about to see if Cody setting us up is true.”

“This isn’t what I signed up for,” She doesn't pull away from him pulling her closer into his chest, arms wrapping tight around her with tender kisses to the side of her head.

“If you didn’t want to be here you would’ve left.” Phil raises his hand to hold her head close to his chest. His lips press into her forehead, nose and the places he could reach despite the position they were in. “You love me just as much as I’m in love with you,”

Her arms wrapped around him, moving until she comfortably leaned into his embrace. Phil wasn’t wrong. In the three years she’s known and been with him, their relationship always made her feel protected, loved, and comfortable. A place where she could fully let go of all thoughts. Her every want and need met without having to tell him more than once. He was her person, and she would be a fool to walk away. “New House.”

His chest vibrated from the deep laugh he let out, “Yeah? Randy getting out just tripled the ticket sales for the next exhibition, I can do that.”

“And a vacation out of the states.”

“About that.”

The backdoor burst open and Randy was pushed to the side two seconds later. "Why the fuck you tell him where I worked?"

Naira moved behind Phil, looking over his shoulder as her sister rushed into the kitchen where they were. She hadn’t expected Randy to actually be successful in getting Ziva’s attention once again.

“He was gonna find you with or without me telling you!”

“Bitch, I don’t give a fuck!”

Phil steps forward with his hands raised, “..in my defense, Ziva, you weren’t supposed to get a crash course in the lifestyle.”

“I wanted to wine and dine you first.” Randy interrupts from behind them while raiding their fridge for what he hoped was beer.

“Not helping.” Phil glares his way, “It’s my fault you witnessed what you did and for that I truly apologize.”

“Punk ass.” Ziva says, pushing past them to sit at the island away from Randy. Naira joined her sister at the island.

Phil and Randy dropped a set of keys in the center of it, along with two black iPads. Ziva was confused, Naira had only seen it once. During Apex promotions, she figured it was just for producing the shows, production inventory and holding other documents she didn’t need to know about. Phil kept it locked in a safe in his office, and only brought it out unless they needed it.

“What the fuck is this?” Ziva questions, she had been standing next to Naira, eating some of the food that was left out from earlier.

“Those are keys to the house we’ll be vacationing in for two weeks.” Phil moves around to Naira’s side, pulling his iPad closer to place directly in front of her. The homescreen had a picture of them on their first date, still she was confused as to why he was showing it to her.

“That is everything your heart desires at your fingertips.” Randy rarely used his, not one to splurge in the materials unless it gave him some form of use. He unlocked his own and slid it towards Ziva. “Whatever you want.”

“The new house is gonna need furniture right?” Phil looks at Naira with a cheeky grin. “Drew up the plans and everything.”

“You're moving again?” Ziva looks over at the couple though her own fingers were scrolling through the pages, eyes widening at the access to things they had. Some that are illegal in the States. Now she began to wonder how deep they truly were and where this type of money was coming from. “You just got this place.”

“Naira drew her own designs for what her dream home looked like.” Phil doesn’t stop looking at her. “Damien has some connections in construction and overseas materials and I wanted to make sure the deal went through.”

Ziva began sifting through the rare gemstones collections. Most of these stones would never reach the market for public sale. Many of the pieces were one of a kind as well. She had been eying one particular vendor Tskenani after doing a sale for another jeweler. While shifting through rare grey diamonds, Randy stood behind her, close enough he could see the screen over her shoulder.

"Good choice,' he tapped the screen. "I've bought from them before. Perfect stones."

He dropped a black satin bag on the counter next to her. She recognized the label and placed the iPad down.

"You're kidding me." She mumbles, the Audemars Piguet watch box was tied with a red bow and she pulled it out..

"You asked for it."

She untied the bow and pulled out the soft blue jewelry box. There wasn't just one watch in the box. He had picked out two other watches, similar to the green face she had specifically asked for. Ziva stared down at the watches. The Selfwinding Chronograph watch was gorgeous and she loved the circular face. This would make a beautiful every day watch. The others were from the Code 11:59 collection. One was a luscious soft pink-gold. It had a green alligator skin strap. The last one was solid gold, with a blue face and matching strap. She pulled out the Selfwinding Chronograph and held it out to Randy, then held up her wrist.

"Whatever you need someone sells," Phil says. "This leads to the best and more authentic vendors. Customizations of just about anything. Audemars is a retired brand. He's pulling from archives."

"Pick the stones you want for the bespoke pieces. You'll have those in a few days."

"And the keys," Naira says, pulling her set into her hands.

There was a key ring on it that had the destination on it. Italy. Naira glanced at Phil who avoided her gaze.

"There's a lot of heat. It's best if we put some distance for a few days." Randy admired the watch on her arm.

"There's a private chef." Phil threw in. "He's there for whatever we need. You two just need to plan the meals."

"Everything is taken care of. The flight leaves in the morning."

"Who said I was going anywhere?" Ziva asked. "This telling me what to do shit."

"You listen so well," Randy says. "Or, we could stay here. House sit."

"We?" Ziva croaked. "We…..are not a thing."

Phil scrunched up his face. "I'm not leaving my house in your hands, Randy."

"And, ya'll aren't about to fuck on my good sheets." Naira adds.

Ziva smacks her hand on the island. "I never said I was going to fuck him!"

"You never said you're not not going to fuck me either."

Naira rolls her eyes at the pair. "I'm not listening to this bickering on vacation."

"I'm not bickering. She's playing hard to get."

Randy reaches out and tugs on the end of Ziva's pony tail. For a second he imagined it wrapped around his hand, pulling her backwards so her back arched. Ziva smacked at his hand with no real force.

"I'm not playing. He's not coming within an inch of my bed."

"I don't know about an inch, but I have ten you can play with."

"Randy," Phil sighs heavily. "My office. We need to talk about this meeting."

Pressing a kiss to the side of Naira's head, Phil motioned for Randy to follow him.

♰⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘♰⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘♰

Night life in St. Louis was few and far between. Depending on the location you either got the best or the worst of the crowd or law enforcement enforcing fire codes just to be spiteful. It wasn't often new businesses opened and lasted in the city, especially during the Spring. Naira knew she did due to her connection with Randy and the amount of officers that frequented her location off duty, while their wives stayed home tending to the children. Business started slow but over time foot traffic had picked up. That was largely due to the new addition The Winx Club: After Dark

From the outside it was just another building. The exterior had been a rustic brown and dusty red color, black steel frames for the windows. She had loved the antique look of stained glass with mosaic designs. The pastel colors would reflect the sun, casting a warm whimsy glow from the inside throughout the day while still reflecting harsh lights at night to allow a more vibrant change of scenery.

“What the fuck is this Nai?”

Ziva looks around, noting the difference in what a usual strip club looks like, men serving the men, dancers moving around the space with ease, all wearing clothes different from the other. She wasn’t surprised to see male dancers, as her head turned just as a patron slipped through a separate side door. She couldn’t make out their faces as it looked as if they had on a mask to hide their identity. Ziva knew the implications of that observation. The hollers of patrons pulled her back into the atmosphere.

Each girl passed by her and Naira with bright and comfortable smiles. The ambient lighting only glowed enough to see silhouettes, faces hidden by dark lighting and half veils. Men were taken to private rooms with girls who looked too young to know about this lifestyle. She looked to the stage, seeing some of them dancing to the track of Tina Snow.

She didn’t want to believe that her sister was the owner of a strip club let alone pimping girls out who looked as if they just turned eighteen. The outside had been deceiving. When they said she was going to her job, she hadn’t expected a rustic brick warehouse on the outskirts of St. Louis, nor was she expecting the fairy designs inside of it. The bright colors, earthy accents along with fake butterflies and fairy touches was the complete opposite of what Naira appeared as. She guessed her relationship with Phil would change that over time.

“A lounge.” Naira pulls a face like it was obvious.

Randy and Phil had moved to the back of the lounge to hold their own meeting with Damien and Baustita about whatever.

“Bitch,” Ziva clicks her teeth in annoyance, “I can see that.”

The music muted once they made it up the stairs to her office. The deep reds, and navy blues opposite of the atmosphere downstairs. Ziva was called to look out the ceiling to floor windows, impressed at the way her sister had managed to run what seemed like a successful business, despite what it was.

“How long have you been open?’"

“About two years.” Naira was sure she had other questions, and she was prepared to answer them as she looked at the giant calendar on her desk, black pen in hand to change important meetings and dates around. “Well, one in this location.”

“You have others?”

Ziva notes the way Randy moves around the space with Bautista following close behind him. It was obvious that her sister trusted him enough to tolerate the chaos he came with. Naira’s male staff had been carrying large totes down towards a door obstructed from the patron view, and now the older sister was curious as to what was going on.

“Hoe, you a pimp?”

It was Naira’s turn to roll her eyes, “No.”

Ziva opens her arms in gesture to the scene below them of the women dancing and pulling men off to random rooms. “Is this not–”

“It’s not that.” Naira finally stands to her sister’s left. “While it can technically be classified as a strip club. It's more of a gentleman's club and the girls hired are only serving and interacting with their chosen clientele.”

"You and Randy still haven't answered my question."

Naira knew what was coming.

"What is all this?"

Ziva wanted to hear it. To validate what she already knew. On top of the party, Phil's comment about organized crime, Randy……bludgening Cody, and now this 'lounge', Ziva just needed to hear it. After being blindsided, it was the least she could do.

“The warehouse was a gift from Randy, but..” Naira trails off. “They use Apex Extreme and The Winx Club as a way to launder the money they get from trading: guns, explosives, drugs, sometimes Phil will contract his workers out to smaller districts, to gain more territory.”

"Wait, territory?"

"We, for lack of better words, own certain cities." She paused. "Sometimes countries."

"This is crazy," Ziva dropped into one of the desk chairs.

"No, it's political. You'd be surprised how many politicians are aware of what we do."

"What does it do?" Ziva said. "Because this is…….people go to prison for stuff like this."

"Creates revenue, more money, bigger budgets. Apex alone generates about 56% of our income."

"So part time felony activity."

"The sarcasm is pissing me off." Naira fumed.

"Well excuse the fuck out of me, Madame."

"How is it different from what you do? That's felony activity."

Ziva shot up out the chair, hands on her hips. "I have a reason."

“And so do I.” Naira stares blankly at her, while walking to the door.

Taelor had stood on the other side ready to knock to let them know Randy and Phil had been looking for them, but she paused as Naira looked to her sister expectantly.

“Just like you said, it's either kill or be killed….I just found somebody to do it for me.”

“They're ready for you guys.” Taelor says after Naira opens the door.

♰

Taelor led them to the door Ziva had seen earlier. There was no handle, but with a firm push the door slid open. It was a separate room that held a private bar, a long table with several men already seated. Ziva was full of questions that all died on her lips when she saw Cody.

"Ah hell," Ziva mumbles.

Brandi was already sitting on one of the leather couches a few feet from the table. Her makeup was good, but there was a slight swelling of her cheek and the popped vessel in her eyes made it bloodshot red. At least she didn't have on a dress. She recognized Steve from the party while Naira steered her towards the bar.

"The body in the bodysuit,' a man, with wandering hands, stepped up behind her.

Ziva cringed and her head snapped to the side. Her mouth parted, but Randy's voice came from behind them, his larger frame looming over them.

"You weren't taught to look and not touch, were you?"

Randy couldn't place his name, but it was irrelevant. He pulled their hand from Ziva's waist and twisted their wrist just enough to make a point.

"I thought she was one of Naira's girls,' he sputters.

“Unless you’re a client, you don’t touch my girls either.”

Randy squeezed their wrists tighter, making them groan. Ziva was…….honored He'd step in but he didn't have to do it this way. She reached out, her hand grabbing his wrist. "I'm fine."

Randy dropped his grip and walked back towards the table. Little might have been said, but he made his point clear. She was far from fine and avoided Naira's gaze. She wouldn't say anything, but it wasn't easy to just disarm Randy. Naira stared at her younger sister then motioned the bartender over.

"What was that about?" Naira asks. "You almost gave him a black eye, slit his throat, and now you're being soft and sweet? To Randy?"

"We talked at the salon. He gave me his form of an apology, because he did not actually say sorry."

"Did…did ya'll?"

Ziva looked up. "No!" She thought back to the kiss they shared. Both of them. And the one in his truck. "I mean he was honest about that too."

"Not to defend him because he is an asshole, it's very little that holds his attention outside of work and work." Naira passes her a glass of top shelf bourbon. "He's locked in on you and yo…"

"Naira, I'm a big girl. I know what he's doing."

Cody spoke first, standing behind his seat. “So when are-”

“Shut up and sit down."

Phil takes his place at the head of the table, closest to where Naira had been at the bar. Randy took his seat next to Phil, still keeping his eye locked on Ziva. Across from them Cody, and Brandi had stood to the side of the head of the table. Phil’s spot really, Since Steve had been the mediator of choice by the council, as he had planned to be in town longer than the rest he sat there for now. He would send the details once it was over….. hopefully with a truce by the end of it.

It was rare that the council had to be called, and the last time they were led to an official court hearing with the other council members. And while Randy had an accusation, it was the spur of the moment that led straight to what happened the night before. Steve wanted to try mediation, not in the mood to turn their first hamptons trip in a warzone.

“You three were the only ones to know about that drop.” Steve starts, looking between the three men “Now, we don’t know for sure how Cody managed to get away, or how it was you that were picked up.” Steve doesn’t place blame, doing his best to remain neutral.

“He snitched. End of story” Randy shrugged. “Scary ass couldn't handle the heat.”

“Randy, you said your peace. Cody needs to explain his.” Steve shoots a look his way that he ignores. “Cody.” He nods.

Randy tapped his phone on the table, the repetitive beat made Cody sweat. He had to choose his words carefully. Clearing his throat, several pairs of eyes turned to him.

"Fuck this,' Randy says while leaning forward. "My lawyer reached out to his. Asked for the proof as part of my defense. He needed to see what tipped off the police."

Bautista walked over, dropping a folder in front of Steve.

"Photos of Cody and his lawyer, nothing wrong there."

Steve began to turn the photos, stopping when one stood out.

The lawyer was in a photo with someone they all knew. Paul Heyman. If Paul was involved it meant someone else was pulling the strings. Randy just needed Paul. He could ring the information out the weasel himself. It was clear Cody wasn't smart enough to cover his tracks, because another photo showed Cody and Paul in conversation, the same day the drop was organized. What made the information more damning was the time stamps. Just twenty minutes after they settled on a drop location, Cody was rubbing elbows with Paul. A known nuisance still trying to weave his way into the life. Paul had to have been waving serious money to target them.

Steve shut the folder and rubbed his temples. There was no rule against speaking with Paul, however, they all knew what kind of man Paul was. He was sold to the highest bidder, doing the bidding of whoever was signing his check. Cody was just collateral.

"Did he tell you what to do?"

Cody began to stutter. "No! No, that's not what we talked about!"

Phil sighed. "He managed to get you to talk without asking you directly. Cody, you're a fucking idiot for meeting him in the first place."

"I didn't tell him anything!"

"You didn't have to because whatever you did say he was able to dig with." Steve sighed heavily. "There's clearly a trail here." He looks at Randy, '...you are owed."

Randy shrugs. "I already beat his ass."

Cody swallowed thickly.

"We do not get involved with the police, whether directly or indirectly." Steve explained. "We move in the shadows." His eyes landed on Cody. "You were informed of people we don't associate with. I don't know what he paid you to participate, but double it and pay Randy and Phil."

Brandi wanted to say something, but she knew better. Ziva whistled lowly.

"Damn." Ziva leaned closer to Naira. "How much is that?" She whispered.

Naira cut her eyes to her younger sister.

Brandi eyed her them before she spoke. "So he can spend it on his whore?"

Pushing from the bar, Ziva turned to face Brandi. "Who is she talking about?" Her question was directed to Naira. "I beat Alexa. I will beat you."

“Not here, Ziva.” Naira urges. “Please.”

“I’m always provoked! First, Randy and I almost socked him in the eye. I was close too with his tall ass, then Alexa and her damn ponytails, Brandi…..you know what….” Ziva took a seat, crossing her legs. “I’m cool.”

Steve looked to Randy. “Yours?”

Appalled, Ziva shook her head. “No!"

Randy smirked. "Working on it. She's…..something."

"Why did she almost hit you?" Steve asked.

He knew, they all knew, no one just got a swing in on Randy and was able to walk away.

"I was-"

"He's bald and terrorizes me because I have hair."

♰⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘♰⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘♰

Phil watched from the bed as Naira pulled her hair up into a loose bun that always came undone by morning. The removal of her makeup came next as she ignored the black box he placed next to her skincare. It was velvet and had been wrapped in a bright pink bow. He knew the past few days had been stressful for her. Dealing with the chaos of the fight, to the council, and now an impromptu vacation–leaving her business to the hands of Taelor for the first time since opening, and while she wanted to be glued to her phone for updates, Phil had turned it off and placed it on his side of the bed.

“Are you going to open it?”

Naira glances at the box, then his frame through the mirror. She already knew what it was. “Crazy you wanna ask me this way.”

“You hate surprise proposals-”

“I still want you on bended knee Phil,” She takes the box and chucks it his way. He manages to catch it before the corners poke him in the eye. “Put some thought into it. We’re in Italy for fuck sake.”

Phil laughs to himself, placing the box into the nightstand. He stood up and walked up behind her. One hand rested on her hip as the other braced itself on the tall armoire. His body leaned over her back, pressing delicate kisses into her exposed skin. “Didn’t think you wanted all that.”

Naira watches him through the mirror, leaning back into the kisses with a sigh as her eyes closed. ‘It would be nice.” She mutters. “Shows me you care.”

Phil drops his other arm to wrap around her in a hug, swaying their bodies to an imaginary beat in his head. Each step brought them closer and closer to the bed until they fell back against it. He moved them to a sitting position, positioning her comfortably on his legs. “You know I care, Nai’.” His fingers coming up to push the strays away from her face. His fingers grab her chin, tilting her head down for a kiss. “Always have.”

She looks at him, mouth parted slightly just as his lips cover her own, sucking her lip between his own with a gentle nip and tug. His hand cradled her head, keeping her pressed into the kiss, until he rolled them over to hover over her. “Phil,” she mumbles against his mouth. His hands pushed up the sleep shirt she had on. His fingers were rough and calloused against her smooth rich skin, teasing feather-like touches under the swell of her breasts.

“Mhm?” He kisses on her neck, using his knee to push her legs open and fit between them. Naira had something to tell him. It was a battle in her brain on whether or not she wanted to make it a big deal. But as his beard scratched her skin, and he left open mouth kisses down the valley of breasts, all thoughts left her, only focused on the way he hooked his hands around her thighs and pulled her closer. Though the moment he pressed a kiss to her inner thigh, her sudden outburst stopped him.

“I’m pregnant.”

His lips stilled against her thigh and his body dropped to the bed, in disbelief. He wasn’t sure if he heard her correctly. “Say that again.”

“I’m pregnant.” Her hand comes down to stroke through his low buzz cut, finally getting his attention to look at her. His humming soon turns into light chuckles. “Found out this morning, twelve weeks.”

Phil moves back up, lowering her shirt in the process, and pressing a kiss to her forehead. He had to do the mental math in his head, realizing it must have happened around the time Randy got word that he was going to be released, same time as Apex putting on a successful show after his return to the ring. Phil shouldn’t be surprised considering they both agreed to stop wearing condoms, and he was sure she forgot to take her birth control a few times.

“So ass backwards, I wanted to make you my wife first.”

Naira shakes her head with a laugh, “You want to keep it?” With the life that they lived, Naira was fully prepared to make that call if she had to. The deeper she fell into the life the more she learned to some, family wasn’t off limits. There was a growing fear of losing her child or the child losing their parents that was settling in the back of her throat.

“Have a little me running around?” Phil grins at the thought of seeing smaller versions of himself and Naira running through their home, kids sports games, early morning cuddles, the thought of fatherhood genuinely excited him. “Yeah, unless..”

There was a moment of pause between the two. They didn't live the most conventional life. It was unpredictable, unstable, but Phil would do whatever it took to keep Naira safe and by extension the life they created if she decided to carry.

“I do."

The thought of motherhood scared her. It had never been on her mind to become a mother. She never expected it to happen. They had stopped protection a while ago and this was the first time she missed her period. After confirmation from her doctor she had a small window to take action. However, the only action they needed to take was buying baby clothes and prenatal vitamins.

"How haven't I noticed?" He asks, more to himself than her. His tattooed hand lands on her stomach gently. "I've had my hands on you for the past three months. I thought-'

"You better not say you thought I was fat." She replied.

"No,' he grins. "You were catching up with your sister. I was dealing with Randy's release, the shows. I just thought you felt normal."

"You were running on minimal sleep, energy drinks, and whatever meal you could get on the road. You were tired."

"But you were pregnant, Naira."

She sat up as he moved to her side, rubbing a hand down his face. "It's not like you knew and for a while I didn't even know." She paused. "We know now, that's all that matters. I wasn't suffering."

There was a long pause as they thought about how their lives were changing, permanently.

“You know the gender?” Phil asks, placing a hand back on her stomach, instinctually rubbing in circles as he looked at her.

“No,” Naira places her hands over his. "I wanted to wait until I told you before making that appointment.”

Phil pressed his lips against her in a warm kiss to pressing more tender quick kisses to her mouth. “Let it be a surprise.”

♰

The penthouse was sure to be gorgeous, but once they stepped inside, Ziva went right to bed. Jetlag settled in her bones. It had been a while since she traveled that long of a distance. Once her head hit the pillow she was out and now, at four in the morning, she was wide awake with nothing to do. Her stomach rumbled when she finally kicked off the sheets and got up from bed. She took a shower and found an oversized shirt to wear. It was long enough to be worn as a dress but not one of her going out shirts. It was simply to lounge in. Combing her hair out, she let it hang over her shoulders and back, the current honey-blond shade due for a touch up in a few weeks.

When she opened her bedroom door, it was dark. The hall light was on, but other than that, silence. She made her way to the kitchen, glancing at Naira and Phil's door to see their light still off. Phone in hand, Ziva swiped through messages, client bookings she rescheduled, and other miscellaneous emails unaware of the figure on the balcony.

Randy held the phone to his ear, his back to the glass separating him from the large living area and kitchen. He stared out into the dark sky, noticing just a hint of blue near the horizon. His hood was thrown over his head, having been unable to sleep. He anticipated the call into existence.

"Que fais-tu en Italie, Randal?" ("What are you doing in Italy, Randy?")

Randy listened as his father, Richard, screamed into the phone. He was nowhere near France and yet, his father had reached out to remind him of his situation.

"En vacances." He replied smoothly. ("Vacationing")

He heard clattering and turned to see Ziva in the kitchen, using the light above the stove. He fully turned around, arms folded across his chest as he held the phone to his ear. Randy watched her pour herself a glass of white wine and pick at the fruit tray she pulled from the fridge. Her attention was on her phone as she leaned against the counter, the shirt riding up to expose her thighs.

"Nous ne t'avons pas pardonné. Tu ferais mieux de ne pas mettre les pieds en France!" ("We have not forgiven you. You better not step foot in France!")

He had no intentions to. Ever. That night was still bitter and he was still enraged when he thought about it. It had been ten years and he was still holding onto that anger. The deception and lies he had to listen to while his own family betrayed him. In the middle of his father's rant, Randy hung up the phone and stepped back into the living room. The sliding door clicked in place as Ziva looked over her shoulder, jumping from the sudden noise.

"You look like shit," Ziva says, turning back to her phone.

He crept up behind her and took her phone from her hands. When she turned around, Randy dropped his mouth to hers.

“Sometimes you need to shut up,’ he whispered, fingers tugging on the hem of her shirt, as they kissed.

“Then shut me up.”

Randy looked down at Ziva. He watched the rise and fall of her chest. He stuck his hands under her arms, then lifted her until she was sitting on the island. Stepping between her legs, he pushed the shirt up around her waist and palmed her hips and thighs.

"Tu veux coucher avec moi, Randy?" ("Do you want to sleep with me, Randy?")

She reached forward, tugging the hem of his sweats back until she released them and watched them pop against his waist.

“Oui.” (“Yes.”) He shrugged. “Ziva, je veux faire plus que ça.” (“Ziva, I want to do more than that.”)

“Qu'est-ce que vous voulez faire?” (“What do you want to do?”)

Ziva slid from the island, her hands on his hoodie, tugging upwards. His arms fell to his sides, her forwardness catching him off guard. She was too short to take it off herself, so she yanked on it.

“Enlève-le.” (“Take it off.")

He followed her directions and she pushed him towards the couch. Making him sit, Randy stared up at her, a sly smile on his face. He liked when she played back. She fell into his lap, straddling him as he adjusted his posture. He slumped down just a little. His feet planted firmly on the floor. His hands held the backs of her thighs, palming the flesh. His hands were warm against her skin.

"Réponds-moi. Que veux-tu faire?" ("Answer me. What do you want to do?)

She rubbed her hands over his chest as his muscles flexed beneath her hands. He gripped her thighs, yanking her forward by the shirt. He didn’t demand or ask before pulling the shirt off. the lace material of her cheeky boy shorts. His hand slid between the material and her skin, cuffed around her ass. The only material separating him from her.

He reached up, one hand sliding between her chest before curling around her neck. Randy had to get some control back so he pulled her in with a tight grip on her neck.

“Je vais réparer cette bouche. Tu la fais trop courir.” (“I'm going to fix that mouth. You run it too much.”)

He was ready to yank away the lace when he felt her hips sliding back and forth in his lap. Through gritted teeth he asked. “What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to count.”

"Fuck." He whistled lowly. "Ziva, "ne joue pas avec moi." ("Ziva, don't play with me.")

She ignored him, leaning in to kiss his bare chest. She followed his smooth skin up to his shoulder and neck, lips brushing along his ear before her mouth found his again.

"You're a tease."

Ziva shook her head. "Non, non, non, en français. Tu parles mieux en français." ("No, no, no, in French. You sound better in French.")

He met her slow grind with a few thrusts of his own. She felt him come to life between her legs. His description was far more than accurate. Even on top she could feel how heavy and thick he was. Her hips stalled for a second and it was all he needed to flip them over. He pushed her legs upward by the backs of her knees. Her hair framed her face, covering the cushions in brown and blond. Stable, Ziva opened her eyes to see him staring down at her-heavy breathing. She dared to look between his legs and her brow arched slowly. His length was pressed tight against his sweats.

His finger hooked into the seat of the tempting lace. His knuckle barely brushing up against her sex. The touch was ghostly, barely there, but teasing. The cool penthouse air felt frigid against her sodden slit.

"Tu as dit toute cette merde." ("You talked all that shit.")

He was going to make Ziva choke on her words.

Randy pushed his two middle fingers into her warmth, rubbing back and forth on that familiar spongy spot she tried to hit herself multiple times. He found it easily, teaching it with stroking motion. His thumb pressed against her clit, not moving, but heightening the pleasure she was feeling.

“Ca c'était quoi?” (“What was that?”) He kept one of her legs pushed to her chest. "Je ne t'entends pas. Réponds-moi." ("I can't hear you. Answer me.")

"Randy." Ziva whimpered. “Putain!” (“Fuck!)

"Tu peux me donner plus que ça." He taunted. (“You can give me more than that.”) He replies, pressing his lips to her cheek, laughing as she whines.

Ziva tried to push at his hand. He was rough, churning his fingers in a way that felt like he was grabbing her from the inside. Her legs shook, the sensation felt too good to keep feeling. So she wouldn't ruin the couch, Randy shoved his discarded shirts under her hips. It probably wasn't best they did this on the couch, but she was a ticking time bomb and he wasn't going to set her off. He had her right where he wanted her.

“I know you fuckin’ lyin!” Naira stops in the door of the kitchen, grateful that the only thing she could see was Randy’s back, and not the compromising position the two of them were in.

Her sudden outburst had Phil bumping into her back behind her. He caught her before she tumbled forward, keeping an arm around her as he looked at Randy and Ziva.

Phil glances at his long term friend then laughs. “You said you weren’t going to fuck him.”

Randy cuts his eyes to Phil in a ‘whose side are you on’ expression. He slips his fingers into his mouth, eyeing Ziva as she catches what he's doing.

“You know what Phillip. You caught me slacking,’ Ziva throws up her hands from her lying position on the couch. ”I’m not.” She pushes at Randy with her feet so she could snatch his shirt from the floor. “His big ass was just leaving.”

“You wasn’t saying that with my fingers deep in your-”

“Aht, aht.” Naira cuts him off. “Nasty asses need to get a room.”

Randy watches Ziva place his shirt on while standing, giving him one last peep show. “You and Phil don’t fuck in random places?”

“In the comforts and privacy of our home.” Phil shrugs. “Preferrably the study, or kitchen.”

Ziva looks at Naira. “You mean I ate and sat where you two be fuckin'?!”

“Why are we changing the subject, y’all was about to fuck on the couch!”

"I mean, it's technically, not your couch."

“Better question, why the fuck y’all ain’t fucking.” Randy looks back at the couple, both of them incredibly close. “Or sleeping.”

“I wanted a sna–” Naira makes a face. “I don’t have to explain shit to you Randall.”

“You got one more time, to call me by my government Naira.”

Ziva cut her eyes to Randy. "Shut up, Mr. Boggs."

Was he the oldest? Because why did he feel like he was watching them bicker like siblings. He rubbed her forehead and tried to get the focus back. “All that aside, we have some great news.” Phil starts.

“Cody sent me my money?”

“Randy going back to jail?”

Naira shakes her head in disbelief, 'y’all need therapy.”

"I know what she needs." Randy says, reaching out to touch Ziva's arm.

Ziva moves out of reach and towards the kitchen where she joined Naira in getting some food, though she questioned Naira’s choices as she pulled out a bag of jalapeno cheetos and cream cheese.

“Unhand me."

“As much as we love to watch you bicker and threaten each other.” Phil crosses his arms, glancing Naira’s way as she stuffed three cream cheese dipped cheetos in her mouth. “We do have something we want to share with you. “

“What are you eating?” Ziva asks.

Randy finally stands to come join the rest of them at the island. “I know what I wanna eat.”

"Maybe if you stop begging, damn." Phil blows out in frustration and just blurts it out. “We’re pregnant!"

♰⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘♰⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘♰

Apex Extreme was a production. A lifestyle that became a way of bringing in revenue and eyes to what they do for a living. As skilled fighters Phil and Randy had been, there was a shift when working under other people. They no longer wanted anyone to have that control over them. They wanted the final say and it would soon be theirs. Then the thought of Apex Extreme came to them. The name came from their ruthless styles of fighting, the brutality of their matches, and overall aggressiveness. Its rising fame called people from all walks of life, hoping to get a piece of the action, only to learn the underbelly of it with haste, locking them in for life.

Phil and Randy didn’t often travel with the show, leaving it in the hands of Trish. A woman with a rough personality in her own right. She handled the day-to-day operations, making sure every fighter hit their mark, each seat was filled with a loyal-paying fan, and more than ever, maintaining its public image, in spite of Phil and Randy’s run in with the law. Everything ran like it should, with no stress to them. She coordinated the shows, bookings, rivalries as if they were still there. They were. No matter where they were kept updated. Now, as both Phil and Randy were released, it was only right for Trish to coordinate a show in honor of that.

“Let’s make sure that cage is secure and he’s in the ring before you lower it.” Trish orders without looking up from her iPad that displays the schedule and order of the show.

Her manicured fingers tapped with the click of her heels down the long hall. The State Farm arena had been chosen at their discretion to keep the crowd at a minimum. Sixteen thousand seats was still a lot and each seat had been sold out the moment they went online. A new record. She thought with a nodded hum after checking ticket sales.

“Ms. Stratus.” A voice calls from her left with a displeased front. “May I bother you to have a quick conversation?”

Trish smiles, hiding a laughter behind it. “You have some balls showing up here Paul.”

Paul had begun to cause a lot of drama between the worlds, doing his best to climb his way to the top, no matter who was at the top of the food chain. Him being here was dangerous, not for them, but for the stubby partially bald man emerging from the shadows. Hands folded in front of him, with an almost sneering smile on his face. He was in a three piece crisp suit. She was sure he thought he looked like a businessman. Trish only saw a sleaze.

“Two friends can't have a friendly conversation."

"We are not friends." Trish replies.

There was more he wanted, but she had no interest in finding out.

“This area is for employees only.” She finally closes her ipad and crosses her arms defensively. A slight scowl etched across her face. “So if you're here to watch the show, do that, or you will be removed from the premises."

Paul raises his hands defensively. No matter that they were ‘alone’ they were never really alone. Damien and Bautista had been just a few feet short from where they stood. Each man ready to step if needed. Lingering around them had been other wrestlers on alert, if he was around, that meant others were in the shadows.

“I know my way around.”

"You shouldn't." She says.

Paul had a lot of nerve being here tonight, especially with the return of Randy. Phil had also said Naira and her sister were here and the last thing they needed was for Paul to go near them.

"Have a good show.”

With a scoff to the gentleman, wherever he was, Trish turned around and headed for the video village. Her hand grazed Batista’s arm in passing. A touch he and Damien knew all too well. It didn’t have to be said what their next task was. They were quick to move in the opposite direction. The information would get back to Phil and Randy soon, but she hoped it didn't ruin the show. She put in too much work for it to be discarded because Paul interrupted.

There was less than two hours until show time and her final task was to assist with press and other promotions at a separate entrance. Trish had been given an overview of what happened in the past few days, but the details were vague. However, high on the list was the current couple causing a hold up at the security station. Tucking the iPad under her arm, she folded her arms across her chest and supervised.

Brandi had gone through first then began to protest when a female officer stepped up to her with a wand and gloves on.

"What's this?" She questioned, arms folded across her chest as she glanced back at Cody who was removing his suit jacket.

"Standard procedure for all press and promotion representatives." Trish replies, stepping up to the couple.

She noticed the bruises on Cody's face. Randy's hands were deadly.

"I'm actually surprised you are here. Your last interview was very entertaining." Trish says, her eyes on Cody.

He had made some unsavory comments about Apex Extreme because a few years ago his own try-out didn't turn out the way he wanted it. AE passed on a contract and he went on to make The Nightmare Factory. A competitor that was less competition and more nuisance. Trish, as recon, had seen a few shows and was underwhelmed by everything. Production, sound, costuming, lighting….it was all mediocre.

"I only speak the truth." Cody replied cooly.

Brandi was bothered. She stepped away from the security guard in her heels, the white shoes clicking against the concrete ground. Trish wondered how she moved in the dress, her signature body con style was slightly outdated, but at least the colors were in season.

"That is unnecessary. I don't have anything!"

"Mrs. Rhodes,' the guard sighed. "It's protocol."

"I don't care about protocol."

Trish was unamused. "Then you can leave."

"And if I don't, what are you going to do, you washed up Barbie."

“We can have you and Mr. Rhodes removed from the premises and future promotions.”

“I wish y’all would touch me.” Brandis wave them off dismissively “I will beat y’all asses.”

“Oh, like Naira did you?” Trish mocks.

Naira had talked about her run in with Brandi and it was amusing to know Brandi was still all bark no bite since the first time she met them. She wished she accepted the invite just to see it in action for herself. Being married to a council member kept her at a distance.

“Bitch-”

“Just shut up and get checked.” Cody barks to Brandi, “or you can wait in the car.”

He would gladly leave her standing behind with security while he went inside. He was lucky they only got left off with a warning last time–thanks to Steve, who had given him a harsh reminder of the laws to follow. Brandi had been bickering since the two left their home, the car ride and even now as he was ready to get to his seats.

Brandi threw her arms out in a t-shape. Finally the officer was able to wand her down and send her on her way, repeating the process to Cody. They stepped to the side as the couple gathered their belongings from the security bins.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Cody sneers. His grip on her hand was bruising, but forceful enough to keep her from pulling away. It was comical to Trish watching them bicker between each other, wondering how they even got together.

The security station went on smoothly once they were going, every other promotion representative following with protocols, and some even offering an invitation to host shows and hopefully form alliances, that would really only benefit the other side. Trish took names only to delete them once she walked away. As much as Phil and Randy had gotten along when it came to Apex, they weren’t in the business of crossing paths with other companies. Aside from personal ventures, anything the two share was split down the middle, a third person would only disrupt the flow, and cause unnecessary tension. It also risked exposure of their other dealings. Liabilities led to two outcomes, neither one better than the other. Either the police were involved or there was someone dying and both men preferred to keep things here clean. Apex was rarely used as a laundering company, but when it was the money was made sure to be put in places, they could easily exchange it. The merch stations and food vendors on the different levels indirectly did that for them. They only had to replace the clean money in the trays before distributing them to the different vendors. That money was then shuffled out and banked. By the time the night was over, most of the 'dirty' money was in circulation and once those people returned to their lives, the money was further spread out, found in numerous cities and virtually undetectable in time to connect it to them. However, that was an extreme and emergency only situation.

♰

Sitting ring side, Ziva watched as the fans grew more and more excited for the show. She herself never watched wrestling or understood it, but Naira had done her best to try to explain it to her. The only thing she knew was that tonight's show was a big deal considering Randy was returning to the ring. Ziva wasn't sure if she wanted to see him fight again, but she was reassured by her older sister. He wouldn't be as brutal as he was at the party.

"You know Randy is into you, right?" Naira asked. "Like, bickering aside, he's been blowing up my phone about you."

"He just wants to have sex."

"If that was the case he would have moved on to someone else. He doesn't linger on the same girl for too long."

"I'm in survival mode, Naira.” Ziva shrugs. “I don’t have time for a man.”

Naira didn’t know what Ziva meant by that. She was closed off in most of her personal life

“As annoying as he is, he can get you out of that.”

Ziva understood the double meaning in her words.

"Did you and Phil set this up?"

"It's not that we were setting you up. He was curious about you because he heard Phil mention when you were coming to the house."

"Hm, because he moves like-"

"I might have shown him a picture of you." Naira shrugs, hiding her smile while taking a sip from her cup.

"Of course you did." Ziva waved her off. "Besides, he just got out of a relationship. I'm not a rebound."

"Ziva, the two of you were all over each other in Italy. Speaking French and bickering like an old married couple." She turned slightly in her chair to stare at her younger sister. "I caught him several times whispering in your ear."

"That was nothing." Ziva replies.

"He kissed the side of your neck."

Silence. Ziva had very little to say in response to that. Instead, she picked at her clothing hem. The white shirt she took from his closet had been finished off with a gold belt and matching hoops and heels.

"You're wearing his clothes."

"It was a nice shirt and I needed something to go with my belt."

Naira gave a pointed look. "Girl, he bought the belt."

The materialistic side of her was very much enjoying Randy's money. From one of the watches on her wrist, the belt, and her new set of gold hoops, who wouldn't enjoy it? As the song says, 'it ain't trickin' if you got it', and she had the it he wanted. He was just waiting for her to give it to him.

"What are you wearing that he didn't buy?"

Ziva licked her lips. "My panties."

"Why do I ask you questions?" Naira sighed.

The crowd had begun to trickle in, soon the cameras were ring side and the lights had been switched to the green and silver company colors. Cameras were rolling and their announcer, Alicia opened the show. The crowd took getting used to. Ziva did her share of clubs and concerts, but this was different. The vibe was heavy and full of energy that seemed to pulse through the building. Everyone here was anticipating the show tonight.

That's a special type of power. Control.

She noticed a few familiar faces backstage and connected the dots. A lot of their businesses and lives were inter-connected. She noticed a few dancers that wrestled as well as Bautista, though she knew his role when it came to Randy outside the walls of this place. Only, the crowd had no clue. Sitting rings among that made Ziva really think about the possibility.

He in fact could take her out of survival mode. She hated when Naira was right.

The first match was entertaining, there was visible bad blood between the two. As an hour ticked by, Ziva grew a little anxious. She didn't know what to expect and on top of that, he didn't know she was here. She didn't want him to perform. She wanted to see who he really was.

When she was given the heads up that his segment was about to start, she excused herself. However, she stood just under an entry way. It made more sense to be out of sight.

His music hit ten minutes later and the crowd's cheering almost popped her ears. Ziva had leaned against one of the barricades, just behind two slightly taller people. From where she stood, she could see him stalk down the ring in boots and tight black trunks.

Why he got on all that damn baby oil!

Ziva wanted to laugh and maybe she would when they all met up for dinner. She had a few jokes. Once he made it to the ring she made her way back to her seat, catching him just as he got to the top of the ropes and threw his arms out. His pose was copied by a few people around them and as she took her seat, he was getting down. Unaware she was sitting in the front.

The match was a reignited feud with another wrestler that had returned earlier in the year.

"I just might fuck him," Ziva sighs heavily.

Randy pounding against the mat and sliding around it had her mesmerized. The fight made it to the outside of the ring. The way he was balancing his weight on his arms while lowering his body to the mat made her bite the inside of her cheek. Their bodies were tossed back and forth against the barricade, ring, and announce table.

"They are splitting up after tonight for a few shows. Just go with him." Naira notes cautiously.

Italy was one thing. It was a group trip, no pressure, but going on the road with him while he worked was another. She knew what could happen if she was alone with him.

“Are you?”

“Phil wants to before I can’t travel anymore.” Naira pauses, instinctively placing a hand on her growing stomach. “I plan to visit my brother in New York for a while.”

They were rounding the ring, coming closer to where she sat, with their fight. The crowd reached out, patting arms and backs. Ziva wanted to sit up, to see over the barrier between them, but his opponent crashed into it, making her jump in her seat..

"Damn his ass strong."

“Eh, he’s a little rusty.” Naira peers over the edge slightly, glancing between Randy, shaking out his shoulders, to her fiance in the ring just nonchalantly bouncing against the ropes.

Black and white stripes definitely wasn’t his color, washed him out a little and as much as she loved his hair, she hated how he slicked that shit back with gel and hairspray.

“Bit-” Ziva was cut off, mouth dropping as she watched Randy lift the other wrestler and drop them on their backs on the metal steps leading up to the ring. She finally noticed Phil in the ring. “Why isn’t he counting him out—don’t answer that.”

“Randy’s match is an exhibition. Let’s just say there’s some bad blood, and the other guy is lucky he didn’t get released. “

"Who does he not have beef with?" Ziva throws up her hands.

Randy took his time walking around the ring, as much as he enjoyed beating people to the brink of death, he liked to taunt them. He likes to watch them struggle to regain their strength, using the steps to push themselves up on their knees. He spares a glance at Phil who only shrugs with his hands and shoulders. Phil had his focus centered on Naira in the front row. Being sure the crowd didn’t get too her or Ziva.

“You.”

Ziva kissed her teeth and feigned annoyance. “I hate you sometimes.”

The wrestlers had still been outside the ring, only moving closer to where the announce tables once again. Randy held a good grip on Edge's hair, there was a head-butt before he drove their head into the announce table over and over. The match was reaching a climax and people around the front had started to stand up. Wanting to see better as they recorded the action, Ziva had to stand because a few people kept stepping in front of her line of sight. Her scowl was strong as she pushed their hands back to their personal space.

"Not at ringside,' Naira says.

Ziva turned around and threw up one hand. "Why do you think I'm about to fight? I couldn't see."

"Pattern recognition!"

Feigning hurt, Ziva places a hand over her heart. She turned back to the match lip tucked between her teeth as Naira came to stand beside her. It wasn't often she personally sat this close, but she wanted Ziva to experience the show up close.

"Hey!" Randy shouted. "Stop eye fucking your wife."

He was caught off guard by a kick to the side of his face, sending him sprawling backwards onto the floor. Phil wanted to laugh, but he tried to be professional and just grinned. He began his count, throwing up his hands with each number. Edge grabbed Randy by his head and rolled him into the ring. He had no plans of winning via a count out and wanted a legit win over Randy. The boost his career would get. Ziva watched as Randy pretended to touch his face as if the kick disoriented him. He was up on one knee while Edge lowered himself into a corner and bounced, ready to attack again.

Randy had pushed to his feet, the stars he had saw for a few minutes dissipating. Edge's kick to his face had made his cheeks sting. Out the corner of his eye he could see edge was waiting. The spear was loaded but he wasn't going to take it. As Edge ran towards him, he slapped his thigh before hooking his arm between Edge's legs and the other around his shoulder and back. He grunted, the familiar power slam landed hard on the mat. He missed the way his body rotated into it, twisting his torso as his feet lifted from the mat. He knew he would be rusty after the match, but his powerslam was always going to be clean. He looked up from Edge, noticing Ziva for the first time.

Their eyes met and he winked, making her eyes roll.

♰

Behind them, scowls formed on two faces in particular. Cody first saw Ziva as she stood up. Like any man, he noticed around them, they gave her backside a once over. Then Naira stepped up next to her, explaining something about the match, and his eyes stayed glued to her. He was going through a few different emotions. Anger. Longing. Resentment.

"Everywhere they go there is a scene,' Brandi says, noticing how Ziva pushed a hand away from her. "She can never keep her hands to herself."

Beside her, Becky stared at the two sisters. It was very clear they were at the top of the ladder, even if Ziva wasn't a part of this lifestyle. Her proximity to Naira and by extension Phil and Randy made her above them, whether they wanted to admit it or not. But nonetheless, things would change.

"Have you noticed how Randy lingers around Ziva,' Becky asked. "I mean, it's known he's in a relationship with Alexa."

"I told Alexa she needed to nip that in the bud." She picked at a spot on her dress. "Randy doesn't look like the faithful type. She'll get what comes to her for being a thot."

Becky realized then how deep the hatred Brandi had for Naira and Ziva. She narrowed her eyes and played along.

"I would beat a girl up before she had the chance to speak to Seth."

"As it should be,' Brandi says slowly.

Despite her relationship with her husband, Brandi was still protective of their marriage, even if it was more arguing than romance. Everyone had their rough patches and Cody was clamouring for respect that was hard to earn. It had taken a toll on him and their relationship, making their sex life almost non-existent. Becky on the other hand understood what was happening with Randy and Ziva. He wasn't just pursuing her, he was making it known he was. Not many dared to cross Randy, so they wouldn't dare try to pursue Ziva.

The cheering alerted them to the match being over. Phil raised Randy's hands as if their row expected anything different. Alicia announced the end of the show as Randy and Phil rolled from the ring. Cody bit the inside of his cheek to keep from snarling as Phil leaned against the barricade and kissed Naira. He became flustered when he caught Phil's hand touching her stomach. She couldn't be.

Naira swatted his hand, hoping no one caught it. Phil had kept his hand near or on her belly since she told him she was pregnant.

"Stop that,' she hissed. "I was telling Ziva that I will be going on the road with you for a few weeks."

Randy leaned against the barricade next to Ziva. She could almost taste the sweat coating his body.

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming?"

"I mean, you just showed up at my salon with no invitation. I'm returning the favor."

Randy pulled her to the side, then stuck his hands under her arms and lifted her over the barrier between them.

"You have one more time to move me,' she smacks his chest.

"You're going with me,' Randy replies. "Naira already told me she packed you a bag."

"It's only for a few weeks." Naira says. "It's fun."

Ziva folded her arms across her chest.

"You're already wearing my clothes." He noted, pulling her close by the gold belt around her waist. Ziva opened her mouth to protest but he shook his head. "Just say yes."

Phil and Naira had already left and she could always get a ride where she needed to go, but she did want to go with him.

"Okay,' she watched his grin widen to a smile, 'but I need to get-'

"It's handled; you don't need to get anything."

♰⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘♰⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘♰⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘♰⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘♰

Chapter Two

#!mayhem!

Trending Tags

Recently Viewed Tags

#!mayhem!