A\N:Hello earthling :D! I'm back with an update. I gotta say, this chapter was intense. Well, maybe not as intense as the 12th chapter, but that's for you, readers, to see. Maybe I see it intense since I was listening to a lot of 007 Goldeneye OST while writing this installment (I suggest you listen to Control Center 007 Goldeneye OST while reading this chapter. You'll have the impression that it's an action movie ;D).

Anyway, I just survived a week of mid-terms and now, I'm happy as a high mothafucka ^-^. So to celebrate, I quickly wrote chapter 14, as you can see. Warning though, it might leave y'all with a lot of questions and maybe some answers to your previous questions. I dunno, it's up to you to see.

Before I start with the shout-outs, thanks to those who followed and added this to their favorites. I appreciate the love :D! Now, I can start with the shout-outs.

Cjhero: Thank you so much. Seeing Sara and Tom's rocky relationship on TV has inspired me to write this. I believe that behind their typical, All-American all-around perfect persona, hides a dark secret :) And as for Uncle Ruckus, wink wink. Everyone from the show is gonna be in this dark story. I can guarantee you that ;D!

Sergeant Peace: Thanks :D! I hope you'll continue to enjoy it :)

Naomi: Hey, thanks for checking my story and giving out good pointers. Yes, I had just realized now that I'm putting too much effort on description, when it comes to the characters' actions, emotions and environments. I will try to balance it – as in, not add too much but at the same time, adding enough.

Taydo-the-Potato: Holy shit :D! It brings me great joy that you like this fic ^-^! Thanks for the major love and don't worry xD! I always say derp, yet I use it at the wrong times :') So no worries lol! And yes, I believe that every characters' got a little something-something going on in their lives, so I always write about each and every one of them, when given the opportunity to do so :P And don't worry, this fic is mainly based on Juey ^-^ ( what can I say? They too damn cute together :P)! Again, thanks for the love :D!

Child Who Is Cool: Thanks :) I hope you'll like this one too :P!

Blazing Romance: Hehe, I know right xD! But she can't do nothing about that ;) It's part of her dark personality. Throughout her whole life, she always had to stand on guard. So, expect more her craziness :P I know right. May Emerald rest in peace. And as for Tom, yeah. I wanted to give him the role of an antagonist, since he's always portrayed as a wimp in this archive. And thanks, I hope you'll enjoy this one too :P!

Disclaimer: Do I look like the fine-ass Aaron McGruder?

Adrenaline

ஜ۩۞۩ஜ

Chapter 14: Pandemonium

"I think my heart's a pandemonium, for it's the abode of all demons – my true feelings."

-Joice

Sex Club 7, Woodcrest Downtown, Maryland

Thursday, Noon

Two days passed after that eventful car chase…yet this woman couldn't help but think of that goon. The image of those pair of his blue pebbles that twinkled with fear, when she had mentioned to expose his boss identity, always picked on her brain. Questions after questions consumed her, mainly this one:

Who did that goon work for?

Now, this latter wasn't one to nose through other people's trivial business. But there was something about the goon and his fear for attempting to expose his boss identity. Her gut was telling her the answer to that very important question was the key to ongoing her pursuit of vengeance. And she was going to trust her instinct on that theory.

Somehow, she was going to find out who this scary, big, bad boss was and demand for some important info on her nemesis – Cairo and Cindy; their next move, their allies and whatnot. Judging from how controlling this boss was with his troop of goons, Jazmine DuBois could tell he held top secret informations – ones that could overwhelm citizens among the states of America…or even, the world. Okay, maybe she was exaggerating. But you never know.

Her eyebrows narrowed in a determined fashion. Jazmine vowed to find the so called boss. No matter what. In order to get her vengeance plan rolling.

Though, it would have been accomplished by now, if she didn't have to work under A Pimp Named Slickback and Riley's clutches. And of course, that thought made our legit robber blow a few tresses out of her view, obviously showing the empty bedroom her current frustration. At least those two niggas are finally treating me like an actual human being and not some pet dog, Jazmine thought, continuously staring the ceiling while lying on her bed.

It was actually true. After she had successfully completed her mission of retrieving the gang-lord's top secret information, her two bosses finally treated her better.

She was no longer imprisoned in a cold room that gave her little comfort and light, but now sleeping in a decent looking bedroom that had a queen-sized bed, a large drawer with a mirror, a closet where she could stock up her clothes, her disguises, her weapons and such, and a bathroom. Furthermore, she could now roam throughout Sex Club 7 and not stay imprisoned in her room and suffer with boredom. Still, they had installed some tracking device – which was in a form of a bracelet – to make sure that she wouldn't escape.

Needless to say, she was loving the little freedom.

Jazmine sat up and got up from bed, not without stretching her muscles out. She'd kill for a massage right now. Her previous mission in the Soiree de la Lune along other events were consisted of constant fights and body movements, so you could imagine how painfully soar she was. If not, then imagine the pain you get when going to the gym, except worse and heavier.

Feeling like she could properly walk without the need to hiss in pain, she ceased the stretching and walked towards the entrance, well in this case the exit of her bedroom. Her digits firmly turned the doorknob clockwise and opened the door, only to see Riley Freeman standing there with a few files in grasp. As always, he held his smug grin that radiated borderline arrogance and smugness, the two mixtures to which Jazmine despised.

Jazmine grumbled. His appearance could only mean one thing…business. And when it's got to do with business, it also got to do with her going on another mission. Seriously? Don't tell me that I already got a mission to do. For the love of God, I just came back from a long-ass mission and did I forgot to mention that Huey and I had to beat a couple of goons who tried to kill us, she inwardly complained, already planning on getting some Tylenol once her future business discussion with Riley ended.

"What do you want Riley?"

The said boy snickered, clearly amused by her frustration. "Now, is that any way to talk to yo boss?"

Cue her deadpan face. "Put a sock on it. Now move," she pushed his head out of the doorway, therefore making him take a few steps back from the bedroom entrance.

Riley scowled, "Bitch, da fuck? You didn't have to do dat!"

Jazmine shrugged then sidestepped past Riley into the hallway, not without grabbing her signature leather jacket from the coat rack. "Enh. Your attitude is pissing me off."

Riley sucked on his teeth and caught up to Jazmine who started her walk towards the meeting room. "Hey, I should be saying that to you!"

From the corner of her eye, she momentarily observed the youngest Freeman. It was hard for her to believe that he was the evil gangster attempting to dominate the Maryland Turf. Just years ago, he was an adorable yet snappy boy whom only wanted to make some quick cash from extravagant chocolate sales. And now, he became…this…with this lifestyle.

At times, she'd wonder why or even, how that happened. Yes, he was an orphan, but he had a roof over his head, he had loving relatives whom would take their sweet time to look after him, he even always had food on the table and such. But the dark-haired female inwardly guessed that something must have happened within her 4 years absence. Either way, she was going to find out sooner or later, seeing as she was working for him.

"Yo, da ratchet with da nappy hair."

Jazmine glared at him; he hadn't called her like that for a long time. Still, what was up with that nickname? "Yeah, nigga who tryin to be Bow Wow," she answered back, in the process of mimicking his ghetto tone.

Riley's left eyebrow twitched in annoyance to her remark, nonetheless got straight to business. "A Pimp Named Slickback and I have fully reconnoitered the tape, where you and Janet have recorded the gang-lord's meeting, and it has enabled us to know their next plan on stepping up their drug market, power and whatnot."

Jazmine nodded, pushing her boss/childhood friend into continuing his explanation.

"Now, we know they're interested in this Purple Paradise drug and some mystery gang who's selling it," continued Riley as he surfed through the files that were in his grasp.

Jazmine stroked her chin, converting herself into her thinking mode. "Since the Yakuzas, the Mafias and the Cartels are still on search of the drug, which is the key to their economies' future growth, I have a hunch that you and A Pimp Named Slickback want to get your hands on it before the gang-lords, am I correct?"

Riley approved the latter's affirmation with a nod, "Yes. According to my sources, there's a local Hispanic gang in Florida who's been having many contacts with this supposed mystery gang. My guess is, they're in the long process of proliferating the Purple Paradise weed. And that's when you come in – you disguise yourself as one of their Hispanic gang members then retrieve a sample of their drugs. And whatever it'll take for you to succeed, try to uncover the mystery gang's identity- it could really help us in our future plans of taking over the Marylander turf."

Surprisingly, this mission seemed awfully easy, easier than the previous one. But, she knew better. After all, Riley held many subordinates across the states and amongst them, he picked Jazmine – whereas he knew this task would be consisted of high stealth expertise. Well, whatever. She just hoped that this wouldn't last long, seeing as this was putting a thorn to her vengeance schedule. "I see. I just hope this one won't be too troublesome. I did come back from a mission."

Riley still held his serious façade, which Jazmine couldn't help but find it quite intriguing. At this point, who wouldn't? Not once during the explanation, did the nigga use his ghetto profanities. "Nah, don't worry about dat ratchet," the cornrow-headed heedlessly ignored his subordinate's scowl and continued, "You start the mission in approximately two weeks. Remember, we gotta wait till the heat from the Casino Explosion cools down, to not attract the popo's attention."

So this mullato finally get to have a break – let alone two weeks? Perfect. That sounded like music to her ears. Thus, she smiled for the first time in a while and let out a breath of utter relief. However, there was still something that was picking on her brain for a while – Janet. "Riley."

The said boy got his nose out of the files, his attention now upon Jazmine. "Yeah ratchet?"

"Would you cut it with the hair nicknames?"

"Bitch, not until you go to a damn salon," remarked smugly Riley, his grin shining bright to mock Jazmine, which worked if she must say so.

She wanted to wrap her fingers around this guy's neck and snap it in half, but for moral incompetent reasons, she calmed down with a big exhale of air, and told herself to not do it. "Anyway, what's you and A Pimp Named Slickback's relationship with Janet?"

Riley stopped his walk and froze; his shoulders suddenly stiff as his nose were back in the files. "Janet Clark is A Pimp Named Slickback's niece. As for me, she just a childhood friend from Chicago. Dat's all."

Had Jazmine hit a nerve? She could tell that there was a tone of uncertainty when Riley had said friend. They must've had a touchy past together, judging from the boy's stiff posture. And speaking of Janet, what the hell happened to her? The last time she had spoken to her was during their last mission, before the whole boom. It had already been two days. According to Riley, she's A Pimp Named Slickback's niece, therefore she should be in this exact location by now, safe and sound.

But why wasn't she here?

And more importantly, why was Emerald worrying for someone else's well-being, especially one who randomly appeared in her life? The last time she had done that, she had received two shots in the abdomen from her two supposed friends.

At that realized, she shook the thoughts of the ghetto latter out of her mind and followed Riley inside the meeting room, her head held high.

She couldn't befriend and trust someone so easily. After all, she had been betrayed many times and she was not planning for that to happen again.

Wuncler Mansion, suburbs of Woodcrest, Maryland

Thursday, 2: OO PM

He smoked his cigarette, its substance easing his nerves. He knew this brown death stick and his lifestyle weren't healthy, especially for his age. But what difference would it do? He was gonna die and end up in hell soon anyway, so he might as well break some rules and live the rest of his life to the fullest…even if it meant killing a few people and marketing a few illegal businesses. Like his troublesome grandson and the youth of today would say; YOLO.

And besides, it wasn't like he had never done it before. This was his daily basis. Woodcrest's recent lack of jobs along the increasing number of crimes, gangs, drug dealing and prostitution, were all his doing.

And Sr. Wuncler felt no whatsoever guilt.

"So Miss McPhearson, how's business going?" the said man questioned, his favorite cigarette still in his mouth.

Sitting before him, in his secret underground office, was the eerily calm Cindy McPhearson, who didn't seem fazed by the tension that floated in the air, around her and her boss. She actually welcomed it. "Quite well actually, we destroyed the Golden Pot just like you ordered us to do, and we even managed to snag Janet Clark – the niece of A Pimp Named Slickback," she explained, though not in her usual ghetto tone, and that kind of confused the millionaire but didn't question it.

"Hm, I see. I browsed through her files not too long ago and discovered that she's the sole survivor of the great Clark fire," Sr. Wuncler informed, his eyes skimming through the confidential files named under Janet Clark. Being mayor had its perks – having infinite information on everyone that resided in this town and with it, manipulating those who dared to question his power and wealth.

Cindy quirked an eyebrow, for once interested in what her boss had informed. "The great Clark fire? I thought no one survived."

"Me too," he thoughtfully said to himself. He was sure that the wildfire from 4 years ago would've ceased all of the Clarks' existence and prevented his business from plummeting to the ground – since all the family of his rival burned to ashes. Just rethinking of that tragic event made the old man smirk in his sadistic way, only for his lips to revert back to his apathetic, serious line, for he realized that this Janet Clark could be a problem to him in the future.

At least his two hired hands imprisoned her.

One of his hired hands, Cindy, subtly cleared her throat, succeeding in snapping her boss back to reality. "Since Cairo and I completed our mission, could ya give us da dough now?"

They did do a hell of a good job on destroying the casino with an explosive bomb – which by the way, was hell to install – and even brought his potential threat as a bonus. So that $ 250 million seemed like a perfect treat at the moment.

Sr. Wuncler smiled, "Of course. I'm a man of my word."

He pulled out a silver suitcase from under his desk and opened it, showing stacks of 100$ bills neatly organized. The display of money appealed Cindy, to the point that she could secretly feel some drool fighting to seep out of her mouth. Perfect, I'm one step closer into freeing her, thought the wide-eyed blonde as she slowly slid the suitcase to her. Her lips gracefully stretched into a smirk – not a wicked one, but the rare warm one. I will finally get to see her soon…

"You know Cindy, I never trusted anyone…especially my own subordinates. But you, my friend, are an exception. You're one of a kind."

Cindy's gaze lifted from her stacks of money to her boss, half-shocked of being praised. Sr. Wuncler was notorious for being downright cold. Hell, he'd rather be caught dead than to exchange a few compliments to someone other than himself. So, of course, this was certainly strange. However, that didn't push McPhearson into showing her surprise, instead she kept her calm yet fearless demeanor. "Thank you Sr. Wuncler."

The said mayor waved his hand in dismissal, "No need to thank me. I'm just stating my thoughts. Really, you're so committed to this task that you were willing to sacrifice your own friend and my old subordinate, let alone Jazmine DuBois. Wow. Your own best friend of 12 years. I must say, I'm glad to have such a talented subordinate."

Cindy felt it again. That sickening feeling of hatred, self-blame and regret. She could feel the world sitting upon her shoulders, screaming at her that she had screwed up. But that wasn't necessary, as she already knew that. She knew that she lost one of the rarest jewels that preserved her little humanity – friendship.

All for money.

She had no choice. She needed the money to see her again.

She hoped that one day, Jazmine would find the heart to forgive her for this uncalled sin.

Sorry Jazmine, Cindy thought, unbeknownst that she was clenching her hands so hard, that her knuckles were now white as snow. Despite the small tinge of guilt eating her alive, she masked her inner emotion with her usual demeanor. "Sir…"

She received once again a wave of a hand as an answer. "Now, now Cindy. Let me finish," commented Sr. Wuncler, "You've shown me your loyalty. Because of that, I see you as family – as my own daughter."

Cindy lowered her head a bit, her bangs shadowing her eyes. Thought they didn't succeed to camouflage her lips, which by the way, had curled up into a demonic smirk. "Sir…"

Sr. Wuncler ceased the praising, for he noticed the atmosphere suddenly becoming tense. He didn't know whether his ass was reaching his end or if he smoked too much, whereas he could feel a dark, untrusting aura emitting from his subordinate's body. What was going on here? "Yes?"

"You shouldn't be smoking, especially for your age…"

At first, the old man tilted his head, unable to decipher the meaning of Cindy's message, until his eyes widened in horrid realization. He dropped his supposed cigarette, "You didn't."

Cindy nodded, still sporting her million dollar smile. "Old geezer, yes I did."

"You bitc-"

He was unable to conclude his phrase as his hands instinctively closed in a vise like grip around his neck. He was scrabbling for air. His lungs were burning, it was as though they had caught themselves on fire. The smoke from his cigarette – well, fake cigarette – must have been made of poison of some sort, as he could feel his body system screaming for air. His body flung out of his seat and lied on the carpeted floor of his office, frantically shaking for air.

Cindy stood there, her wanted object now in her grasp. No pity entered in her core. Not an ounce of it.

She just stood there, watching the liveliness from the eyes of the bastard dim for good.

She watched his arms go limp ever so painfully as his body stopped the frantic shaking.

She now pronounced Sr. Edward Wuncler dead.

Now the old bastard's soul could go to hell, where the devil had reserved a spot for him.

Cindy whipped her cellphone out of her pocket whilst she dialed a number. After three beeps, she finally reached her call receiver. "Yes C-Merph?"

"Boss, da first part of the plan is completed," she tightened her hold on the suitcase.

"Perfect, now it's time for the second part."

Fort Washington, Prince George's County, Maryland

Thursday, 4: 32 PM

Images played on TV, which had never failing to capture the viewer's attention. But this time, it was different. The said watcher wasn't even paying attention to what was going on behind the TV screen, no thanks to his mind, which wandered in the abyss of his own infinite thoughts. He continued to gorge down a cup of Cristal Brut Millesime Blanc. Funny how he was drinking some good-ass drink whilst sitting on the comfiest couch known to man, yet he was still stressed as ever.

The casino's explosion was the source to Michael Caesar's stress.

He hadn't received a call from his best-friend, after the Golden Pot's boom. And it had been 2 days. Caesar knew Huey shouldn't have stayed for his hoe-ish excuse of a fiancée, whereas the building had been on the verge of exploding. Huey had told him to safely escort Granddad out of the casino, which was what the New –Yorker had done. He even drove him back home, despite his constant bickering and protests.

Huey had told him that he'd safely leave the Golden Pot once he retrieved Ming – yet he hadn't sent him any messages nor calls regarding his safety. Yeah, only Huey's safety.

Caesar could care less about Ming's safety.

God, he swears, this whole mess would've been totally avoided if Ming wasn't alive. Yes, he blamed her existence for causing havoc in his and his entourage's life.

And just the thought of her name made him let out a frustrated groan. "That bitch pisses me off!"

"You know, it's a bad sign when you're talking to yourself."

Caesar whirled around, only to find the source of the voice standing before him, clad in black leggings that hugged her curves, a pair of black pump heels, a big gray blazer, a white shirt with a few top buttons unbuttoned and a detective badge pinned on the corner of her brown belt. "Ming."

The Chinese female deadpanned, "No, it's Beyoncé. Of course it's me Caesar. Did you hit yourself while fleeing the Golden Pot."

Caesar seethed in anger. Why the fuck was she in his household? Wasn't he depressed as he was? He would've reported her for harassment and for breaking in, but too bad he couldn't, seeing as she was a police officer herself. Wait – why the fuck did she have a detective badge? Wasn't she just a mere police officer? And why the hell did this boy suddenly care of her personal and work life? "Well, looks like Huey retrieved you from that burning casino – unfortunately."

"Aw, not fond of seeing me well and okay?" she placed a hand on her chest, mocking a pout.

"Please leave," Caesar mumbled, quite impatiently. At this point, he'd rather be stressed out and depressed than deal with this…this. God, he was even trouble to find the abominable creature to describe her monstrosity.

"And no, I actually left the burning casino by myself."

Caesar widened his eyes. What? If she had gotten outta there by herself, than what the fuck happened to Huey? "…Where's Huey?"

"That's what I came here for – to know Huey's whereabouts," she frantically said, taking a step towards Caesar, whom which he took a step back. Euh, hadn't the bitch ever heard of personal space - because clearly, she hadn't. "My investigation team has already checked the premises of the burned casino and found no clues of his whereabouts. And that's deeply worrying me."

Caesar's ultra-disgust for the latter was soon replaced by worry of his pal's safety. It wasn't like Huey to disappear without notice. His eyes widened. "D-don't tell me he d-d-"

Ming lifted her hand, gesturing for the boy to not jump into conclusion. "Wow, he's not dead. If he was, my team would've found his corpse around the premises by now."

Caesar let out a breath of relief, "So where do you think he is?"

Ming rolled her eyes. That boy needed to stop asking stupid questions. "If I knew that, would you think I'd be here?!"

Caesar rolled his eyes to her attitude. Even when she worries, she still got that bitchy attitude. God, seriously, what the fuck did his best-friend see in her? She was a conniving, manipulative, back-stabbing bitch. "Yeah, yeah. No need to throw the attitude."

Ming's hand absentmindedly brushed through her hair, strands of it hanging over her face. "Sorry. It's just I'm really worried for my baby. I called every one of his friends, but none of them know where he is. I even called his grandfather and Riley, and both of them don't know either," she paced back and forth in the living room, "What if Huey's hurt?"

Caesar walked up to Ming and firmly held her shoulders, his determined eyes set on Ming's worried ones. "Look Ming, it's Huey we're talking about. He's going to be fine, he can defend himself. You even said so yourself that he's alive. All we gotta do is wait for him to return. Give him about a few days and he'll be back," he threw a small smile of assurance, "Trust me."

Ming's bangs covered her visage, shadowing her expression. God, she forgot how nice and comforting Caesar was. Her heart would always skip a beat when the melodic sound of his voice invaded her mind. She knew she shouldn't have come here to his place. Seeing his face. Seeing his house. It all brought her nothing but the guilt and pain of the regretful choice she had done years ago.

Because of that choice, she lost everything.

And that everything was the two people she deeply cared.

Caesar was one of those people.

"Ming…"

The said Asian immediately pulled herself out of her pool of thoughts and lifted her eyes up to Caesar's, her bangs no longer shadowing her visage. "Yeah Caez?"

Caesar blinked, taken aback. Did she just call him by his nickname? She hadn't called him that for years. Wow. He didn't know why but a part of him warmed up, yet he wisely chose to ignore that dense part of him. He shrugged off the feeling and focused. He hated her. He was not going to warm up to her now, not after what she had done to him. "Could you please…like…get the fuck outta my house?"

Ming rolled her eyes, "You sure know how to be a good host to a guest."

The said host tsked, folding his arms upon his chest. "Please, you invited yourself in my house. What did ya expect?"

The uninvited guest shrugged, her attention once again wandering off. The way he responded to her was cold and…heartless. They were previously best-friends. They always had their backs and trusted each other. Now, look at what their friendship had become. They'd rather stab their backs then deal with themselves, and they trusted more the devil than each other. Ming stole a glance of Caesar, noticing her old best-friend scratching his scalp.

She couldn't sustain herself from giggling. He still hadn't changed his old habit of scratching his head. As a kid, he used to do that when he was impatient. Heh. And it was still cute. "Well, I better get going. Those crimes don't solve themselves."

Caesar shooed her to the front door, his eyebrows narrowed into slits. "Yeah, finally."

She opened the door whilst her left foot was about to take another step out of Caesar's household. But she stopped midway. She had a change of plans. The Duo pivoted on her heel and faced Caesar one more time, attempting to decipher a somewhat sign of friendliness. But to no avail. All she could find was hatred, as it radiated from his body.

For the past 4 years, Caesar had been treating her coldly, as though they were never more than enemies. Did he really forget about the times they had spent together, as youths? Did he completely hate her…to the point that he deleted their past together from his core?

Well, she was going to find out. This would be the only opportunity to do so. And she'd be damned to let it pass by.

Hence, she furrowed her eyebrows. "You know Caez, no one's around you. You can cut it out with your constant hating," she spat bitterly. She was getting tired with this charade. Always fighting for everything and never coming to an understanding.

Caesar cackled, clapping his hands, which scared Ming. Seriously, who the fuck did she think she is? "This ain't fake. I really do hate you," he quoted, suppressing his laughter into faint snorts. Boy, this broad was stupid.

Ming madly stumped the ground, "Always lies, lies and lies. You're never going to tell the truth, aren't you? For once, tell the truth!" Her breath was becoming hoarse due to the constant loud yelling, but she didn't care. She just wanted him to open up and stop with this nonsense.

Caesar approached her, his face now close to hers. His normally calm and humorous demeanor immediately changed, his face contorted in all – nostrils flaring, eyebrows narrowing in slits, his eyes holding that certain, dangerous fire. "You're right, I don't hate you. I just despise the fact that your existence is still allowed in this world, with the number of sins you've caused to not only yourself, but to everyone else, including me."

Ming lowered her eyes to the floor. At this point, she had to. She refused to let him see the tears of sadness – the small crack of her mask. The mask she used when to hide her true emotions and her vulnerability. She had to do that for the majority of her life, so what was stopping her now? Oh yeah, Caesar. "What about everything we've been through together? You said you cared about me more than anything in this world. You promised me that you'll never leave my back. Was that all fake?"

Caesar grabbed her wrist, but Ming was quick enough to yank it out of his grasp. His breathing was also hoarse. Likewise, his head was hung low, his long dreads shadowing his facial features. "Get. Out."

Ming wasn't fazed by his threatening tone. She refused to believe that she had completely lost him. He just couldn't have deleted her from his heart that easily…right?

"Caesar, I don't believe you! Deep down, you still care about me. Y-you're still hurt from the past," she continued, unbeknownst of the tears that were forming on the corner of her eyes.

His head still hung low, her old friend once again grabbed her wrist. This time, with such force that not even Ming, the latter with many years of experience from martial arts, could rival at. He brutally pulled her against him. "Goddamn, shut up," he negatively mumbled, right before letting go of her wrist and grabbing both sides of her head.

"Caesar, what are you doi-"

He hadn't even let her finish as he hungrily planted his lips upon hers. Ming gasped in pure shock, and Caesar took that as an opportunity to plunge his tongue inside her mouth, as it ravished her taste of watermelon. She felt a static feeling of some sort, from the moment his lips came in contact with hers.

Was this really happening?

She slowly gave in and slowly closed her eyes. This kiss was completely different from Huey's. It was more demanding, rough and teasing. It was exhilarating. She could feel a rush of adrenaline pulsing through her veins. She hadn't felt this alive in a long time. The last time she felt like that was when she was with Caesar.

Their tongues were having a war of dominance. Neither were willing to back down, yet they ravished the feel, the taste of their tongues.

Ming moaned, but then widened her eyes in shock as Caesar's lips broke apart from hers. "You felt that rush of adrenaline, didn't you?" she said, searching for any sign of doubt in his face. "Admit it, liked it Caez. You still care about me."

Caesar suddenly held a blank face. "I kissed you to see if I still reciprocating any feelings for you. And guess what? I have none left for you. I still hate you. Now, get out of my house."

Along with that answer, Ming received a harsh, brutal push out of the Caesar household and a slam of the door on her face. She stood outside with the sun shooting its magnificent rays of sunlight on the quiet Marylander neighborhood, her eyes still upon the white front door.

For what felt like hours, she finally walked away from the house and commenced her walk towards her black Mercedes, which awaited for her return.

He was lying.

She knew he was.

He still cared about her.

Outside, Woodcrest Downtown, Maryland

Thursday, 5:00 PM

Thousands and thousands of residents walked through the populous sidewalks of Woodcrest Downtown. As usual, posters of the upcoming mayor election were everywhere, on benches, city lights, buildings and whatnot. This year's mayoral election was the main topic of everyone's everyday conversation. The citizens hoped that this would be their chance of fixing their town's many trivial problems, such as: the lack of jobs, the great number of crime activities, and the economy's decrease.

However, a certain Chicagoan, Huey Percival Freeman, knew better.

Just like every other year, the election was nothing but utter bullshit. Another way to feed the residents false hope and preposterous lies, in order to make them sit tight in their miniscule social class and not cause an uproar to the city council. People were too blind to notice that nothing would change. The mayor may had the appointing power for department heads and shared both legislative and executive duties with the council, but would he ever change Woodcrest for the better?

No.

And that was for sure, seeing as two candidates of this year's selecting candidates for mayor were; Ed Wuncler the III and some other dude, to which Huey couldn't put his fingers to his name. And yes, you all have heard him right, Ed Wuncler the III. The crazy veteran who once wiped shit off his ass with his own hand. The crazy wigga who got shot out of his grandfather's window by Riley. Yeah…him.

Huey sighed hopelessly, his hands both in his suit pockets. Tsk…how the hell was that crazy fool even part of the selecting candidates? Oh yeah. His grandfather…Sr. Ed Wuncler. I guess it was one of the perks of having a grandfather who was the founder of this good for nothing town. The only main reason why Huey was still living in this dump was because of his grandfather, or else he would've been out of here a long time ago.

Huey casually walked upon the busy sidewalk, on his way to a convenient store that was right around the corner. He was running out of cigarettes and right now, he'd kill for one. It was habit of his that had grown to him when…that with Jazmine happened 5 years ago. Though with the way things were with Jazmine's unexpected return, he should quit. Right after today. Of course.

Huey groaned to himself, he wouldn't have to go waste ten bucks for a pack of cigarette, when he already had some back in his loft. But Riley insisted that now wasn't the good time to go back home and talk with his friends from outside, with how the authorities were now tight with the whole Casino ordeal. That was also the main reason as to why this Freeman hadn't been contacting with Caesar, Ming and everyone else, for the past few days.

Hell, he had to spend a few days in that…strip club. And that thought made him shudder. At least, Jazmine made his stay somewhat bearable.

Just when the convenient store finally came into his view, Huey quickened his steps, but then stopped as a small black Van from out of nowhere halted into a loud screech, right in front of him. Then, when one of its doors slid open, a group of men clad in black suits and black shades that you'd see in Men in Black, bolted out of the vehicle. Freeman didn't even have time to react as the said men circled him and lifted their guns, silenced PP7s, up to his head.

Huey narrowed his eyebrows into slits, "What the hell is going on?!"

"Huey Percival Freeman, put your hands up in the air!" screamed one of the men.

Confused and bewildered, Huey hesitantly obeyed, yet at the same time, frantically looked over his shoulders, hoping to find the reason to this happening. To no avail. Citizens amongst the urban neighborhood watched the scene before them, without the decency to mind their own business. Great, now everyone was going to think he was some kind of criminal or terrorist. He didn't do anything to offend the system…yet. And this was not looking good for Huey.

And the fact that he was black, didn't help at all.

Great.

Just fucking great.

His eyes were locked upon the black Van as a figure emerged from the entrance. The said figure stepped out of the vehicle, his feet both spread and planted upon the concrete sidewalk, his arms crossed upon his chest, solemn determination blazing in his aging face. His red hair fluttered in the wind that Mother Nature had created exclusively for this moment. Years may had passed, but this man still held his menacing demeanor of a true member of a top-secret Central Terrorist Agency.

Huey's eyes widened slightly at the sight of an old ally. Nonetheless, they quickly narrowed back to angry slits. "Flowers. Jack Flowers."

The said member of the Central Terrorist Agency nodded, "Freeman. Huey Freeman. How unfortunate, this is how our second encounter has to be."

"With all the due respect, I would like you tell me what the hell is going on," Huey said through gritted teeth.

"I hope I didn't interrupt your rest from your little soiree with Ms. DuBois, from 4 days ago. Killing many men, destroying casinos," he added a dark scoff, "You sure know how to liven up the nightlife in Las Vegas." Jack's hung his head low, pacing back and forth. "I'd like to ask you some questions about the Golden Pot incident and the death of Sr. Wuncler. Perhaps you'd care to lead the way to the Central Terrorist Agency."

Huey didn't say anything as this information sunk into his brain, but obeyed anyway. In his core, he knew that the government, or someone else with such high authority, must've wrongly reported him for being involved in the Golden Pot explosion. He had to admit, he was there when the incident began, but he wasn't the one who started it. He was one of the many guests who was just at the wrong place at the wrong time.

And as for the Sr. Wuncler's death…The fuck? Huey widened his eyes at the new information. He was dead? It was about time, now Woodcrest could start financially growing and subdue its crime rate. But still, since when did that happen? And how? And more importantly, why would they want to interrogate him if he wasn't even involved. Even though he wanted to ask Jack Flowers about the Woodcrest founder's death, he remained quiet and walked inside the vehicle with his hands still in the air.

The guards followed him suit, their guns directed up to his head, in case the African-American would try any sneaky moves.

The image of Jazmine flashed in his mind, tripling his worry to infinity. Oh shit, Jazmine! He thought alarmingly, as he took a seat in between the black-suited men.

Nearby Convenient Store, Woodcrest Downtown, Maryland

Thursday, 5: 15 PM

"Remember, get da thin type. I want da closest feelin of not wearin one as possible."

With her cellphone by her left ear, the buyer rotated her green emeralds in exasperation. This was truly embarrassing. For god sake, she was the one of the world's talented robber. Not some stupid bitch! She should be at the Sex Club 7, using her well-deserved break to rest and regain all of the energy she had lost from her previous mission. Not be in a convenient store, getting a box of Trojan Man condoms for her so-called boss.

Jazmine was beginning to think that Riley was abusing his power on her.

Her hand surfing through the many boxes of condoms, she bit her tongue from cursing, "Okay Riley, lemme get the smallest size for you."

"Bitch – my dick is huge! B-I-G! Keep dat attitude up and I might take 50% off yo pay check," Riley threatened from the other line, his voice almost causing his associate's left ear to lose its hearing sense.

Jazmine sucked on her teeth, grabbing anyway the small size – just to piss her boss off. "Boy, you don't even pay me."

"Exactly!"

The mixed American pulled the calling contraption away from her ear for a few seconds. This boy sure got a loud voice. Did he always scream on the damn phone? She placed her cellphone back on her ear. "Yeah, yeah. I got it. Now leave me alone Bow Wow wannabe."

"Bye Ratchet," he then hung up, finally Jazmine some peace and quiet.

And of course, she sighed in relief to that.

Click.

You know how a few moments ago, Jazmine was welcomed by the blissful feeling of peace? Well, it drastically disappeared, no thanks to a few men, let alone ones dressed in black suits with black shades. They pointed their silence PP7 handguns to her head. Without any other choice, Jazmine slowly bent down to put the box of condoms down on the ground, and got up, both hands in the air.

Jazmine bit her cheek, quite pissed. She got caught by the authorities – again. It ain't a good feeling to have when you, the experienced, under-the-table kind of antagonist, get caught. Yet again. She bet they were going to take her in, due to her last Woodcrest National Bank robbery. Though, she didn't think they were going to find her this soon. She had yet to kill her traitors with her bare, cold hands.

One of the men lightly thumped her on the back of her head, with the help of his weapon. "Emerald Anabelle DuBois, you are coming with us to the Central Terrorist Agency, for some questioning on the Golden Pot incident and the death of Sr. Wuncler."

Both hands held up, Jazmine sighed in defeat. "Fine."

At least the system didn't know her true identity. Heh.

A\N: Jazmine and Huey being interrogated and getting accused of those incidents? Ming and Caesar possibly holding feelings for each other? Cindy needing money for a certain someone? That'll be interesting to see…

This was fun to write, so I hope you all enjoyed it. Don't be too shy to leave a review, or to favorite, read and whatnot. As for the question of the chapter…

Question of the chapter: How will the interrogation go for Huey and Jazmine?