The Badass Mafia Boss Queen

Maxine gripped the steering wheel and side-glanced me. “Put your seatbelt on, this is going to be fun.”

I did as I was told, and he hit the red button on the rearview mirror, which caused the garage door to slide open. We drove out onto the gloomy street. Maxine didn’t let go of the gas pedal until we were driving well above the speed limit.

Darkened street signs flashed by. He sped through a red light, swerving around a car that was patiently waiting for its turn.

‘What was the point of making me wear my seatbelt if he was planning on killing the both of us by crashing the car.’

With an extended grin, he weaved us in and out of traffic. Eventually we moved away from the city streets and onto a country road. We picked up more speed, but at least there were no other cars to play chicken with.

I was able to unclench my teeth and my stranglehold on the security bar against the door, using my free hand to wipe my newly dampened forehead. The car air-conditioner couldn’t do anything for me.Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

With little distraction and the car’s novelty having worn off, Maxine remembered that I was sitting next to him. “Sorry about your head,” he said, his eyes still on the road.

Unprepared for this discovery, I kept quiet. What was I supposed to say. Hitting my head on whatever it was, seemed insignificant compared to what was coming.

“How did you manage to sneak away from me?” He asked, like he was nervous with my silence.

“I didn’t sneak by you,” I hissed, my eyes shooting daggers at him. “You were walking too fast and I lost sight of you.”

“Who goes about peeping through closed doors when they miss their way. It’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard. You’re good at karate right?” He asked.

I nodded, but my lips said something else. “No.”

“You’ll have to show me what you’ve got when you’re settled. I could show you one or two tricks for self defense and assault.”

My mind went from a hundred to a sharp ten. “You’re not going to kill me tonight!” I blurted out.

“Kill you? Hell no! Why would I do that.”

“I… I thought taking me to The garden was a code word that shared the same meaning with idioms like sending me to meet my ancestors.” I confessed.

Maxine started laughing. “Shit U, what’s going on in that head of yours. I would never lay a finger on you. Not me, not anyone else. You have no reason to be scared Reina.”

I jolted at the name again. “What does that even mean?”

“Reina?”

“Yes.”

“Queen.” He replied.

“I am no Queen.” I corrected.

“Oh, but you are. You are my brother’s woman. He’s the Boss, you’re his Queen.”

“I’m nobody’s woman.” I rushed at him, hating the sound of the sentence.

Maxine shrugged. “I stand to be corrected then.”

We passed through yellow road signs with pictures of crumbling rocks flashing by us. He was still speeding, but at a more considerable tempo now.

We were heading into the largely uninhabited mountains. Even though I’ve been assured that today won’t be my last day on earth, I still felt the panic in me.

A hazy survival tip from one of those crime shows clicked in my head, make the attacker see that you’re a real person, not just a nameless witness to a murder, or something like that.

“My name is Ugo Chike,” I announced. He looked at me like I was crazy. “Right. I’ve forgotten you know that already. You told me yours, didn’t you?” I asked, my full stomach lurching as the Audi sped into a curve.

He nodded. “Maxine.”

“My mom’s name is Ada and we call my dad Papa-Bear. And he met my mum at a health summit they both attended and exchanged contacts. I was named after my grandmother. I am a lawyer, or I used to be one. I love my body and skin so much that I spend a reasonable chunk of my salary on the gym, karate classes, yoga and appointments with my nutritionist and dermatologist. I have a best friend, the best girl in the whole world. I don’t want to share her name….”

“Yeah, I’ve met her, once.” He said, pushing me to pause. But I refused to stop talking. It was better than being terrified.

“I don’t think I ever want to get married, I hate commitments and high expectations….”

“Okay, what’s going on? Are you high on drugs, are you scared? What’s with the influx of information.” He asked, finally slowing the Audi down. There was incredulity mixed with an edge of worry in his voice.

“So marriage is not…..” I meant to continue but I felt a knot in my throat. My heart started racing, and my body temperature went up a thousand degrees. “Oh God!” I yelled.

“U, what is the problem, talk to me.” he sighed, worried.

“I’m going to be sick.” I started heaving my hand in front of my mouth.

“Hold on. Keep it in.” He stretched to the back of the car seat and pulled out a plastic bag, emptying its contents, he gave it to me.

I pulled the bag open and I threw up immediately, repeatedly.

“Gross.” He gasped, opening his window.

The fresh air that came in from the opened window made me feel better, plus I had nothing left in my stomach to puke up anyway.

After a few minutes, I pulled my face away from the bag and glanced up. He was glaring at me, wincing. His face had gone from rosy-cheeked to pale and worried.

“Throw the bag out the window,” he ordered.

“I can’t do that.” I said. “It’s a plastic bag. It will take over a hundred years to disintegrate. I don’t want to pollute….”

“U. g. o,” he said, carefully enunciating every syllable, throw the fucking bag out the window.”

I sighed and reluctantly threw the bag out my window. But I didn’t feel the slightest bit guilty as I watched him breathe through his nausea.

“Sorry,” I said, trying to not mock him.

“That’s the grossest thing I’ve seen in a while. Now I’m kinda glad we didn’t take my car.” His voice trailed back into his head. “Ugh!” he groaned dramatically a few seconds later.

Tired and worn out, I let my head fall back into the seat and closed my eyes.