Page 25 of This Is Law 3

“I’m going to run to the mall. I just want to pick up a few bathing suits. I’m going to call Milan and ask her if she wants to come with me. It’s last minute as hell, but I’m going to see if I can find some matching family outfits for the four of us,” I added with a smile on my face.

Like he didn’t even hear me, he chose not to respond. He was already on his phone, and I’m sure he was looking to book the rooms for us.

I didn’t leave the house until a little over an hour later.

I cooked breakfast for the boys, even though they lied and said they would cook it on their own, and then I had to go up to my room and get ready.

I’d already called Milan and asked her if she wanted to go with me, and she agreed.

I knew that her ass wasn’t going to turn down a day at the mall.

I’m not sure what the hell she had going on, but when she answered the phone, she sounded as if she was out of breath, and speeding in the car.

She was quick with telling me that she would be able to go to the mall with me, and for me to just meet her at her house because she would be there by the time I got there.

I didn’t even get a chance to ask her what the hell she had going on because she quickly hung up on me.

I called my sister as well to ask her if she wanted to go with us, but she was laid up in the bed, telling me that she had severe menstrual cramps this morning, so she was going to sit this one out.

Malani stayed out west, and I was coming from down south, so it took me almost thirty minutes to get to her.

She stayed in one of those newly built townhouse communities.

I swear, every time that I pull up over here, you could still smell the fresh paint and the concrete.

It was a quiet community, and almost every car that was parked in each home’s driveway were luxury cars.

That’s because this area was luxury, and to own, they started at almost $800,000.

Milan was renting this place, and Zoe had gotten this spot for her, and the nigga footed the rent, and the rest of her bills for the next fifteen months.

Milan was the prime example of a woman that was having her way with niggas.

Often times, I’ve heard so many women boast about fuckin with rich niggas, but then they never have anything to show for it.

Milan had everything to show for it. This townhouse that I was pulling up to was beautiful, and outside in her driveway, there sat a beautiful white Jaguar F- Type R, along with a BMW 8 Series Gran Coupe.

Zoe had purchased both of those cars for her.

She had both cars pulled into the driveway, so I parked right in front of her Jaguar, blocking it in.

I quickly stepped out and walked over to her door. I rang the doorbell, but she didn’t answer. Seconds later, I could hear audio on her doorbell.

“Yaya, I’m in the bathroom. Type in 2322 on the keypad,” she announced to me through the camera. I keyed in the code that she gave me, and it granted me access.

Once I was in, I closed the door behind me, and I immediately stepped out of the lavender colored Hermès slides that were on my feet.

Her floors were way too nice for me to take another step in the house with my shoes on.

Because Milan didn’t have any kids, or pets, her home was spotless.

There wasn’t a thing out of place in here.

It smelled of warm vanilla too. Throughout the house, the color scheme consisted of colors like beige, white, brown, and just a little black.

When she moved into the place, she reached out to an interior designer, so this entire home was professionally decorated for her.

There were three levels to this house. On the first level, which was what I was on, there really wasn’t much down here.

I took the stairs up, and that’s where her kitchen, living room, dining room, and a guest bedroom was.

I had to go up another flight of stairs because that’s where the master bedroom was, another guest room, and the big patio area that she had.

I had no idea why her ass needed this many rooms, when it was just her, but it’s what she asked Zoe for, and he got it for her.

“Milan, where are you? Girl, I hate walking up these damn stairs. I feel like I’m about to die,” I dramatically said, once I reached the top.

I don’t know if it was the pregnancy, but after I made it on the third level, I was breathing like I’d just sprinted up here, instead of taking them up one at a time slowly.

I made it to her bedroom, and she was coming out of the bathroom that was connected to her bedroom, and a towel was wrapped around her body.

I could see the water still on her skin, as if she’d just got out of the shower.

Her shower cap was still on her head, and because Milan had such fair skin, I could see the passion marks that were on her neck.

She had a look on her face, as if her ass was up to something.

Mixed in there was a little bit of nervousness too.

“What’s wrong with you?” I asked, taking a seat down on the ottoman that was right in front of her bed.

“Nothing. What mall we going to? Aventura? I have a few stores in there that I need to go to,” she responded, quickly changing the subject, as she crossed over me, so that she could get to the dresser that was in the corner.

I watched her as she pulled the first drawer out, taking out underwear, and in the next drawer, she took out a strapless bra.

“Why the fuck you so fidgety? You making me nervous” I asked her, and she laughed.

“Nothing, Soraya! You fidgety because your ass always fuckin paranoid. When you leaving for Jamaica? Tomorrow morning?” she asked, turning around, and looking at me.

When I called her earlier to ask if she wanted to go with me to the mall because I was going to Jamaica, I never told her when I was a leaving. I didn’t give all the details. Hell, I wasn’t able to because her ass sounded like she was rushing, and up to no good.

“No. Tonight,” I replied.

“You just found out about this, this morning?” she inquired.

“Yeah. He asked me when we got out the shower,” I shared.

“What kind of pussy you put on him that made him book a flight to Jamaica the same day?” she asked, trying to be smart, and I grunted.

“The same pussy I been putting on him for twenty plus years. Who put that shit on your neck? I hate that for you. It’s ghetto,” I voiced, and she cracked up laughing.

“Soraya, please! Let’s take it back ten years.

Law used to have your ass walking around here looking goofy as hell.

My neck doesn’t come remotely close to what yours used to look like,” she replied, and I couldn’t help but laugh because it was true.

I didn’t play that shit now. Law knows that I’ll move his head from around my neck in a second.

I run a business, and I had kids that loved to be all up in my face, so long gone were my days of walking around with big ass hickies on my neck.

Like I was her man, and she didn’t give a damn about me seeing her naked, she quickly came out of her towel, and she stepped into her bra, and panties.

There was lotion on her bed, so she put that on, and she pulled out a white tank top from her drawer, and she disappeared into the closet, and about five minutes later, she came out in a pair of high waist denim shorts, and her shower cap was removed, so her long hair was hanging down, but she hadn’t gone through it yet with a comb and centered her part.

Not even a minute later, there was a loud booming noise that came from her front door, and that shit scared the fuck out of me, causing me to jump, and I rushed over to her window, where you could look out, and have a perfect view of the driveway, and there was a black Rolls Royce pulled on the side of my car. That was Zoe’s car.

“That’s Zoe! What the fuck did you do?” I screamed at her.

You could hear him rushing up the stairs like a mad man.

Milan tried to run over to the bedroom door, and close it, but he was faster, and he pushed the door in, and that same long hair of hers that I just talked about, he pulled it, pulling her to him, and he got a hold of her by the front of the tank top that she was wearing, and he lifted her ass up just like that, and slammed her down on the bed.

“Zoe, stop! What the fuck are you doing?” I screamed, running over to him, and pulling him by the back of his shirt.

“Yaya, move bruh! Get the fuck out the way because if my hand accidently go back, and I tap you, your nigga going to want to kill me! Move bruh!” Zoe barked at me.

Zoe and I were cool. Out of all the niggas that Milan has dealt with, he was the one that I liked for her, and I wanted nothing more than the two of them to get their shit together, so that they could be a healthy couple.

I’ve been around the two of them on a few occasions to watch the way they would go at it, but I never saw Zoe this upset.

He was in rare form, and something told me that Milan knew why.

I knew her ass had done something when she answered the phone the way that she did, sounding like she was out of breath.

Plus, when I came in her room not too long ago, she seemed paranoid about something.

“Get the fuck off me, nigga! Move!” Milan was screaming, kicking her legs, not giving a damn where they landed, but he was smooth, and had been able to dodge all her kicks.

“Why the fuck you did that stupid ass shit to my cars, huh? Why you destroyed my crib like that? I should fuckin kill your ass!” he threatened.

Usually, I wouldn’t get in the middle of Milan’s, and Zoe’s shit, but I’ve never seen him this angry, but at the same time, I was pregnant and not trying to get in the middle of it, only to get my ass pushed, and tossed around.