10th Commandment | Revamped

Chapter 20

Two weeks after the retirement bash—an event Fantasia referred to as a funeral—Taraji officially took the reins as the chairperson of the FBI's board of directors. She was now the top dog in charge. Carter felt the heat, knowing her career was precarious and any minor misstep could lead to her being out of a job or worse.

With her new position, Taraji brought in fresh management because she had to head to D.C. for her chairperson responsibilities. She left with her colleague and friend, Agent Hart.

Fantasia's minions had tipped her off about this trip since she had put a tail on Agent Hart. Just as she was arriving at her penthouse, she learned of their departure.

"Hey babe, you’re back early! Not that I’m complaining; it’s great to see you. Now we can finally hang out," Carter said, helping Fantasia shed her coat.

"What can you tell me about Agent Hart?" she asked.

"Huh? Why do you want to know?"

"He’s my new interest."

"Well, he’s attractive, witty, and a highly skilled agent—one of the best. He’s on the board and is married to some supermodel or actress. They’ve got a couple of kids, maybe three? Satisfied?"

"For now. But don’t worry; I’ll call him myself once you dial his number on my phone."

“Fantasia, what are you up to?”

"Just going to give him a little warning, that’s all. If he heeds my words, it’ll be all good. If not, well, he better be prepared because facing me in a fight doesn’t usually end well for the other person. But ultimately, it’s his choice. I hope he’s as clever as he appears, because I can be a real menace."

Fantasia’s tone was serious, and it made Carter uneasy. She needed to intervene.

"He was Taraji’s partner before their promotions; they’re still close, maybe even more than that. You can’t just take away one of her favorite people, can you? She’ll be crushed. You’ll have a vendetta on your hands," Carter warned.

"I don’t care. He’s poking his nose into places it doesn’t belong. He needs to back off," Fantasia replied cryptically. "Dial his number," she insisted.

Carter did as she was told.

When Fantasia called, she heard, "This is Agent Hart’s phone; leave a message," followed by Taraji’s voice.

Fantasia gasped and quickly hung up.

Meanwhile, Agent Hart stepped out of the bathroom in his D.C. apartment, a towel wrapped around his waist. Taraji was lounging on the bed, clad only in her underwear.

“Who was that?” he asked, half-humorous, half-curious.

“Probably just a private number. Maybe it’s Wifey,” Taraji teased. “She should know better than to call me here. Whoever it is, I doubt they're significant. Now, where were we?” He leaned in, kissing her.

"Right here," she replied, tugging at his towel, pulling him closer. He climbed atop her, their passion igniting as he entered her.

“I’ve missed being with you,” he murmured.

“I missed your big... oh wow, just like that! Give it to me good!” she gasped as he lost himself in a rhythm of pleasure.

Hours later in New York City, at midnight, Fantasia convened a secret meeting with her agents. After wrapping things up, she hopped into her car with two gang members, her thoughts racing to D.C.

“Take me to D.C.,” she ordered.

“Sure thing, Big G. Let me check flight times,” the driver replied.