THE WOMAN GAZED OUT THE WINDOW as her flight taxied down the runway. In a few minutes her feet would touch the soil of the country she never thought she would see again, and it terrified her. She was taking a risk that could change her life as she knew it.
For better or worse.
She alighted from her flight and entered the chute that would take her into the airport terminal, as trepidation almost stifled her with each step.
She breathed deeply and, her nervousness alerting a nearby security guard. For a moment he assessed her, then headed towards her with a determined expression.
She held her breath.
They’d caught her.
To her luck, he walked right past her and his voice carried as he addressed someone behind her;
“Sir, I need to have a look in your luggage.”
She exhaled a relieved breath.
I need to calm down, or I’ll be exposed. I can’t allow that to happen, she thought.
I would shoot all her efforts to hell, and delay her revenge.
She squared her shoulders and lifted her head, strutting through the airport terminal with what she hoped was an air of confidence, her expression determined. Her head was back in the game. She’d come too far to let fear destroy all she’d worked for.
As she strolled towards the exit she was oblivious to the admiring stares that followed her as her one-track mind focused on the mission at hand: to reclaim what was hers.
She had failed the last time. This time, however, things would be different. Thanks to her sponsor, she underwent several plastic surgeries and voice alteration procedures, which was a distinct advantage. Now she could do more damage without being recognized.
As she emerged from the airport several eyes continued to follow her; men salivating over her lush body donned in a skin-tight latex dress that highlighted all her newly-bought curves. Women eyed her from head to toe with envy, examining her pair of Jimmy Choos that encased neat, manicured toes and the oversized Nordstrom purse she carried on her arm and concluded that there had to be a sugar daddy in her life. Stares from the men became more pronounced as she quickened her pace, and her ass wiggled in response.
The airport attendant who assisted her with her luggage got the best view; he smiled with contentment as he admired the vision from behind while he lugged her four suitcases with him. He did not care if she left him a tip– the sight of her apple- shaped ass rolling around like a revolving circle was payment enough. He’d never seen a butt so perfect!
The woman squinted as the bright sunlight hit her face, and she smiled for the first time as the full impact of her surroundings sunk in. She allowed warm glow of the sun to absorb her, and she savored the feel of the cool wind on her face. She paused for a moment and inhaled the fresh air in contentment. This was what she missed the most during her time spent in exile; the clean, cool air of her homeland.
It was good to be home!
Although she had enjoyed her time in New York, it was hard to be away from the things she was used to, and the people she loved. She’d missed her family a lot…and the few friends she had left. Almost everyone else had deserted her when her actions became public. They crucified her, and no one but her family had called to hear her side of the story. They tried and found her guilty in the court of public opinion.
Not that they were wrong—she was guilty as sin. She committed a crime, and she had no remorse. Her only regret was that she hadn’t executed her plan to the full extent. By a cruel twist of fate, her target not only survived, but she was back with the man she’d tried to take from her.
Well, not for long…
She reached the terminal and scanned the area, looking for her driver. She hoped he was already there.
The anxiety had returned. She did not want to hang around, dreading that someone might recognize her. Her appearance had changed but she was still fearful that it wasn’t fool proof.
It would dash her plans if her appearance blew her cover.
She spotted a fat, round man lumbering towards her and felt instant relief. Thank God.
The man glanced at her, his face bearing no hint of recognition. She waved and his features became aware and his expression lit up. She gave an amused smile as he stared at her in wonder and appreciation, his eyes roaming over her body in disbelief.
“My God. Kemona, is that you?”
She grinned and twirled. “In living flesh.”
“Wow…I wouldn’t recognize you anywhere! You look amazing!”
“Well, Timothy, this is what you paid for!”
He came up to her and ran his hand down her frame, his palms sweeping the curve of her body. He nodded in agreement. “This is definitely what I paid for.”
Kemona’s plastic transformation had cost him a mint. He had never forked out so much dough for a mistress before, but this was an investment, and one he intended to reap great returns from.
Kemona had no idea what she had signed up for this time.
She pushed his hands away gently, glancing furtively around her. “Let’s go.”
He took her luggage from the airport assistant, who looked at her wistfully. Reaching into her purse, she pulled out a wad of bills which he took with appreciation, giving her ass a final gaze as he went.
She settled in the front passenger seat of the car and Timothy jumped in right after and turned the key in the ignition. With a gentle pat on his hands, she gave him a small smile. “Thank you for everything.”
Timothy Jones grinned in return. He did not have to ask what she was thankful for. He’d gone to great heights to bail her out and he would do it again, because he’d been aching for her since she left. He wanted her, much more than he ever wanted his wife.
Kemona was the only woman who knew how well to ride him in the sack and he would do anything for her. She knew where to touch, lick and kiss, and she was well-versed on what to do to make his toes curl and have him begging for mercy and crying for all his ancestors.
He was never letting her go.
He only hoped that his actions would cause her to realize how he felt about her. And even though he wasn’t willing to divorce his wife, Kemona was the one he wanted to be with.
Kemona sighed, contented, as the car pulled from the curb. Timothy was a godsend. He was one of the few persons who stood by her when she had to flee the country after her failed attempt to kill her best friend, Anya. She had plotted and schemed for ages to get rid of Anya because she wanted Bruce, Anya’s husband. She’d patiently bided her time, and after plotting and scheming with an accomplice, she had tried to stuff sleeping pills down Anya’s throat and force her into a bathtub to electrocute her. Unfortunately, Bruce’s arrival saved Anya, and her accomplice died when his gun accidently went off during a tousle with Anya.
To her luck, she could catch a flight to New York right after the incident. She was already in another country by the time the police declared they wanted her for questioning. They tried to extradite her but failed. Timothy, who had hefty connections, had called in a favor to the police to make her pending indictment go away.
She was now a free woman, thanks to him. Soon she would be a free woman with the man she had always loved. The plastic surgery was the first step in her plan.
Timothy brought the car to a still at a stoplight and retrieved a manila envelope from the back seat and handed it to Kemona.
“What are these?” She asked while opening the envelope.
“Those are your new identity and the keys to your new apartment.”
She held up her new passport and driver’s license, which bore the picture of a woman she was certain no one would recognize. Her name was now Maia Callum, an ad executive. Her mouth crooked as she jingled the keys. “Did you get a lease on the apartment I wanted?”
Timothy nodded, his expression turning glum. He could not understand why Kemona wanted an apartment so close to her former best friend’s home—the same friend she tried to murder. He thought she was done with the whole drama. Clearly, she wasn’t.
Well, he had plans for her. When he was through, Bruce and Anya would be a distant memory.
Kemona smiled slyly. Her plan was already coming together. She’d ordered Timothy to get her an apartment on Anya and Bruce’s street so she could be close to Anya…close enough so she could execute her plans.
Anya would not know what hit her this time.
She was back with a vengeance, and this time, she would not run away again. She would not stop until she got what was hers. The first stage of her plan was already in progress, thanks to a very skilled mechanic.
As they drove across town the sky darkened, as grey clouds appeared and chased away the bright clouds that were present moments before. Kemona glanced up at the sky and acknowledged the abrupt weather change as a bad omen—for Anya.