ULTIMATUM: Destiny's Doom

"Let's leave together, i'm getting the divorce tomorrow". Peter McJones was not one to love. It the first day of October, 2021 and it was his last. His offence? - Love. South Detroit was home to our beloved, Peter. He was a married man with 3 children, aged 45 and under investigation by the FBI for drug dealing. This was the third time and it was a ricco investigation. He was a very shrewd man, savvy in business. Not just that, he was a 6'2 foot man with umber brown eyes, black American and a lot of passion, some not so positive. Aside being a drug baron, he owned a few clubs and art galleries. Oh, he was The Savior of Gangster. 'Deceit is an art, wouldn't you agree?', he asked the pretty lady, Mary who was actually an underground spy for the FBI, investigating him. Peter snuffed her out, unsure. 'Yes, I must say.... Are all your exhibits this authentic, Mr Peter?', she replied unsuspecting. 'Yes, I think. You hungry? I'd like you to join me for dinner at one of my bars just across the street, if you don't mind' 'Well, I am heading over to an interview with the deputy mayor, Mr. Andrews by 9pm and I've only got 45 minutes to make it in time'. 'How about a cup of coffee upstairs? Just us both, I'd like to show you some of my most precious collections', he pushed. 'Uhhh, i hear you're married, maybe I should let your wife know' 'Well, everyone should get a little fun every once in a while... You coming or what?' She hesitates. 'These pictures aren't going to see themselves', he humors her. He leads her upstairs to his office. It's a cozy room with walls full of frames, I mean he could've been framed himself, but he was guilty already. He makes a quick coffee for two and hands her a cup and a seat. 'Wow, you make this much money on art? Detroit men are usually speculated to be drug kingpins', she broke the silence. 'Is this one of your many journalism sessions? I'm not fond of those.... Yes, these have quite the price tag to them and I own a couple bars in town', he replied. 'Forgive my curiosity, I grew up here myself and I never noticed my father or any man make his money legitimately, especially selling pictures and drinks' 'You know, for a journalist with a lot of interviews, you probe too far.... I see how you earn your stories, but if the night continues like this, my attraction to you just might dwindle', he confessed. 'Is that so, Mr. Peter?', she draws closer to him and plants a short kiss on his lips - 'I'll shut up and I hope we can do this some other time, it's 8:38pm and a busy town'. 'Ohh, I've arranged for my driver to drop you off at Mr. Andrews', you'll find him downstairs, he's waiting.... And no, he's not into art at all'. 'Jealous already?.... Goodnight Sir '. 'Please call me Peter' 'Okay. Peter', she smiles and heads out. Mary's a beautiful black American journalist, who may have fallen for the same Druglord she's supposed to convict, however she reports back to her supervisors at the FBI, John and Leiland. Back at the exhibit, Mr. Peter leaves for home. On his way he has a long talk with his driver. 'Did you put the tracker on the flowers I asked you to get her?', he queried. 'Yes sir, i'm not sure she's a spy as you suspect.... She even gave me her number to give you', he hands it over. 'Well, I just met her tonight and she's way too good to be true.... I mean, what're the odds that i'll meet a lady as beautiful as that and she's into married men? and I think she knows more about me than she let on', Peter replies, just then, his phone rings. 'Hello' 'Hey.... Could you grab us a bowl of strawberry ice cream for Whitney? she's had no appetite all day and barely took water' 'Okay dear. I'll see you soon', he says. 'I love you' 'That was Grace, I need you to get a big bowl of ice cream before we get home', he tells Obi, his driver. 'Okay sir'. Obi, Peter's driver also doubles as his personal guard and loyal friend. They grew up together, until Obi traveled off to Switzerland only to come running back from the mafia, whom Peter helped him handle. Now, he's always felt loyalty and a strong need to see his friend succeed, even as a Drug baron. Back at the McJones house, Grace's helping Tricia, their last daughter with her homework in the living room, she's two in a month; 'Hey' 'Honey!... Whitney, Ray, daddy's home', she shouts as she plants a kiss on her husband's lips. She notices gloss on his lips, but doesn't say anything about it. Whitney and Ray show up almost together to the living room; 'Dad' 'Hey, Princess.... I got you some ice cream, why don't you go share it with Tricia?' 'Thanks dad.... Trish finish up and come join me in my room', she leaves for her room. 'Good evening, dad', Ray greets his dad. He's been home all day due to a suspension from school for two weeks, which would have been indefinite if his father wasn't a big benefactor to the PTA. 'Ray, what did you do?' 'I'm always doing stuff, here we go again' 'What did you say to me? Boy, talk!', Peter shouted. 'I didn't do anything that didn't have to be done.... Old remi from 12th grade was yapping about how detroit's drug prominence would drop to zero if you weren't the one selling it and then he called you a liar and a thief to spite me' Ray explained. 'Now that you've beat the boy into ICU, how do you think this will nullify his claims? I've told you many times -You can shut them up, but you can't shut them up.... The sooner you learn, the better.... Go to your room, i'll have the TV there removed in the morning', he scolds Ray. Ray leaves without saying a word - 'I don't understand it, I just never seem to do it right. If I didn't step up, he'd call me weak, now I did and i'm 'stupid'.... Y'all tripping', he thinks to himself as he finds sleep. 'Honey, how was your evening?' 'Rather delightful, I was in a mini interview with an underground spy' 'So the lipstick I tasted was you vetting her?' 'Grace....', an awkward silence ensues and he goes off to bed, while she stays a bit longer finishing up with Tricia, before leaving for her matrimonial bed. This was June 12, 2011. 'Hello' 'Mary, this is Peter' 'Oh, Hi' 'I was wondering if I could treat you to lunch, how's 3 o'clock?' 'Perfect, wanna do my place? I'll send you the address' 'Okay.... See you soon', he hung up. Just like that Peter finds himself devouring Mary at her apartment at past three in the afternoon. He penetrates her till she passes out and searches her house for clues, buttnaked until he finds 3 international passports with Mary's name on only one of them. However, he doesn't confront her but quietly leaves her apartment happy and ready for the ultimate con game. 'I heard him say over the phone to Obi that a cargo from Russia will be landing ashore tonight at the Canal, I have sent the coordinates and I'm sure it's valid. Go prepared.... He's coming, I gotta go', Mary says to her supervisors and ends the call. 'Today's gonna be a good day', Peter confesses, all hyped up maybe from his incoming shipment or from the ultimate long night s*x battle they had the night before or maybe he'd heard her conversation. 'You're in a pretty good mood today, wanna tell me why?' 'Ohh my shipment's coming in tonight', he says seemingly without thought. 'Oh wow, lucky you.... Not that it ranks high among my list of achievements, I'll be showing my first artwork at a gallery downtown later tonight, wanna come with?' She asked frantic. 'That's amazing but i'm super busy tonight, however send me the address anyway', he replied - I've got to head out now, the kids might worry'. He sounded indignant. 'Yeah, I have a date myself', she said, stirring up jealousy again. 'What's the date?' 'August 1st?', she replied quite confused. 'No, not the date... I mean, I didn't know you paint until now and you've got dates lined up like I barely ever exist, just who are you, Mary?', he confesses. Peter leaves, he has to. She's not his wife, not his girl, not even a proper associate - but Mary's everything I want in a woman and more, he thought to himself. 'They're coming tonight, right?' 'Yes Obi, I've arranged everything for tonight's showing, it will be epic' 'I must say, i'm impressed by your wit, sir.... I was almost sure you'd fallen for the girl', Obi confessed. 'All in good time Obi, All in good time'. Peter said, still somewhat lost in thought. The night plays out just as Peter envisioned. The cops accost his ferry as it lands on New York's shores, only to find it loaded with art work and frames shipped from Rome and Obi, after being harassed by the NYPD, reports the missions success to Peter, who upon getting this feedback, launches another boomerang. 'Ladies and Gentlemen, Welcome to the newest State Art Gallery in America. I hope this proves to be a most memorable exhibit for you al.... Feel free to express yourself', Peter says and the audience cheers, including Mary. She stands stiff as ice, dead in shock, but is revived as Peter makes his way to her. 'Peter' 'Hey beautiful, I hope you like my new gallery' 'You didn't tell me' 'It was a surprise', he grabs her and they dance the Nutcracker - The shipment is already in storage, i'm sure Leiland's happy now.... Or is she? Dazed, shocked, whatever you want to call a state of dismantling revelation that leaves you wondering 'how', was exactly what Mary felt, and more, she could barely move with the song. He leaves her and to her utmost dismay, she finds the whole McJones family at a corner of the gallery, feeling it out. Too embarrassed to say hi, she leaves before Peter could introduce them. 'That's dad's mistress? She's cute' 'Shut your mouth, ray', Whitney cusses. Their mom, amidst the whole fake smilish pleasantries and paparazzi, issues a rather suspicious glare at her husband as he runs after Mary.