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Synopsis
Brokenhearted, scorned Ceazia is back home in Virginia and up to her old ways. With her road dawg, Diamond, by her side, she’s unstoppable, until the attention she’s used to falls on her friend and envy rears its ugly head.
When she pulls Shawn, Diamond gets the luxuries Ceazia’s used to and now lacking, which sets things off. Now eager to get a man that outshines Shawn, Ceazia meets Judah. Catching wind that Shawn is indebted to Judah, Ceazia devises the perfect plan to knock Shawn off his pedestal and end Diamond’s fantasies.
Trust no one without knowing their agenda, or be ready to find out whose game is tighter.
Produced by Buck 50 Productions
Release date: November 1, 2010
Publisher: Urban Books
Print pages: 240
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The Return of a Gangster's Girl
Chunichi
“Let me get two bottles of Rosé. That’s one bottle for each of those haters over there mean muggin.’ ” Ceazia laughed while pointing at two chicks that stood staring at her from the bar as she placed her order with the chubby waitress that served the VIP section of the club. “Let ’em hate on me even more as I sip on these two bottles while between the two of them, they can’t even afford one.”
“Excuse me?” the waitress responded to Ceazia’s request with plenty of attitude as though Ceazia’s comment had been directed towards her instead of the two broads at the bar.
“Two . . .” Ceazia held up two fingers, “bot-tles of Ro-sé.” She spoke to the waitress as though she was retarded or hard of hearing, using her fingers to make up sign language.
“They are one-fifty each; One . . . five . . . zero each,” the waitress replied, lips twisted and head tilted to the side as she held up each number with her hand as if she was now doing sign language. She then continued. “Are you sure you want two?” the waitress spat, looking Ceazia up and down—insinuating that Ceazia couldn’t possibly afford the two bottles of Rosé she’d ordered.
“Looks like we have another hater,” Diamond, who was sitting right next to Ceazia, whispered in Ceazia’s ear after taking note of the comment the waitress had just made.
“Damn, you know what? You’re right?” Ceazia said, scratching her head as if rethinking her request. “I may need to order three bottles. It looks like we have an additional hater who has just joined the crowd. But I don’t know if I can blame her. I mean, look at her.” Ceazia gave the waitress the once-over. “If I was fat and ugly, I would hate a bitch like me too.” Ceazia laughed, and without saying another word or even looking in the waitress’s direction, she held up two fingers in her face, confirming the fact that she still wanted two bottles of Rosé champagne.
Ceazia didn’t even bother to further entertain the obvious ignorance of the waitress as she just stood there glaring at Ceazia as if she was going to react to the way Ceazia had just dissed her.
Hell, maybe a bitch really should order three bottles, Ceazia thought with a snicker. Two for the haters and an additional one to crack across the head of this bitch’s hatin’ ass. It wasn’t clear if the waitress had come to her senses and decided to just keep it rolling or if she’d gotten the picture that Ceazia’s word was final, but after Ceazia moved the two fingers so close to the waitress’s nose that she almost touched it, the chick said no more and eventually just stomped away, rolling her eyes and sucking her teeth.
Diamond and Ceazia sat at Club Reign and watched as the crowd grew thicker as the night got later. They kept their eyes glued to the door. It was just about twelve o’clock and the club had almost reached its capacity. They knew in a few more minutes the doors would be shut and the only ones that would get in at that point were the true ballers that were able to break enough bread to change security’s mind about opening the doors. And that was the moment they were waiting for. Like a fiend desperate for a hit, Ceazia and Diamond would be on the ballers; getting first dibs. It was nothing for the two of them to tag-team a nigga just to get in his pockets. Diamond and Ceazia had only been comrades a little more than a year, but it seemed like they’d known each other forever. They always knew what the other was thinking and they always shared the same point of view. And if there ever was a time when Diamond thought she felt differently about something than how Ceazia felt, it didn’t take much for Ceazia to change Diamond’s thought process.
Now that the unsuspected hater, little miss waitress, was gone, it was time for Ceazia to focus her attention back to the bar where the official haters, India and Carmen, two chicks that she used to roll tight with back in the day, sat. The looks on their faces were priceless once they had spotted Ceazia Devereaux in the flesh and blood; live and direct, right before their eyes. It was as though they had seen a ghost. They looked like a deer caught in the headlights of Ceazia’s Hummer H2; frightened to death with no chance of survival.
“What the hell did you do to them?”, Diamond asked Ceazia, noticing the looks on India and Carmen’s faces.
“To be honest, I’ve never done anything directly to either of them,” Ceazia stated, giving Diamond an indirect answer in hopes of avoiding telling her the real story behind the beef; they suspected her of killing Meikell, once a friend to them all. “I think they’re just surprised to see me. I don’t know if it’s from the embarrassment of how I’m high rollin’ compared to them, or just my mere presence alone that’s got them shook.” Ceazia took a sip of her white Zinfandel she had been babysitting as she examined the two women one by one and then she continued with her reasoning. “Those chicks used to be my homegirls, and from the looks of things, much hasn’t changed since a few years ago when we used to hang. I wouldn’t be surprised if those bitches were still driving the same car, living in the same old crib, working the same dead-end jobs and sucking the same dick. And when I say sucking the same dick, I mean the both of them sucking the same single dick!” Ceazia and Diamond both burst out in laughter.
“Wait!” Diamond said, after almost choking on her white Zinfandel. “What are we laughing at? We’ve sucked the same dick before.”
Ceazia and Diamond continued to laugh, clinking their glasses together.
“Now don’t get me wrong, I ain’t knocking them for being stable, but if you and I are sucking the same dick, or any dick for that matter, there had better be some benefits.” Ceazia pointed to India and Carmen. “And it is evident from their appearance that nothing is jumping. They are wearing the same old jewels and same old clothes. And the worse shit of all is that bag Carmen is carrying is a Gucci bag that I bought her. And to shovel more shit on top of a manure pile, I bought the bag damn nearly three years ago. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if that is Iceberg she has on. Now you tell me why they look so corny. They done spent the last of their last getting up in VIP that they can’t even buy a drink, so they standing around with dry mouths waiting on some nigga to offer to buy them a drink. But any real baller can see through their nostalgic-looking asses. Those hoes might as well have Jheri curls and shit.”
Diamond wasn’t as blunt and obvious as Ceazia, so she tried to discreetly observe the girls. After doing so, she shrugged her shoulders as if to say she had no defense for the chicks. They appeared to fit Ceazia’s critique like a glove.
“Exactly,” Ceazia continued. “Outdated tramps.” She took another sip of her drink and then said, “I know they want to turn into an ostrich and just bury their little weave-filled heads!” Diamond and Ceazia laughed and threw back the last of their drinks. Five minutes hadn’t passed before Ceazia caught yet another set of females staring in her direction.
“Damn!” Ceazia snapped. “Bitches are wearing the hate on thick tonight,” she said to Diamond, noticing even another set of bitches whispering and pointing in her direction. “Is it because we’re fly to death?”
“Maybe it’s because you look like you just stepped off a rap video. I think they want your autograph,” Diamond said, referencing Ceazia’s latest look.
“Let’s really give them something to talk about.” Ceazia looked over at Diamond with a mischievous smirk on her lips. Diamond ran her tongue inside her jaw and returned the smirk with a nod of her head.
Ceazia sensually slid her arm around Diamond’s neck, not caring what the next person thought of their public display of female-to-female affection. If her luck was any good, she’d hope to catch the eye of some horny baller and turn him on. Diamond loved when Ceazia openly showed her feelings for her so she didn’t mind playing right into things. She grabbed Ceazia around the waist and pulled her close as they tongued each other down. It was as though the DJ had cut off the record and the music had stopped. The entire club was focused on Ceazia and Diamond. After their intimate kiss, they both laughed as all the men looked like they wanted to pull out their hard dicks and jerk them while all the females twisted their lips and rolled their eyes in disgust.
Every since Ceazia had moved back to Virginia from Atlanta, she’d made it a habit of shining on a bitch every chance she got. Her long black hair had been replaced with a stylish mohawk and her basic conservative designer jeans and nice shirt style had been replaced with outlandish designer clothing like True Religion, BAPE, Red Monkey, and Ed Hardy, topped off with colorful accessories and a wild attitude. But one thing for sure had not changed; Ceazia’s brick-house frame was still intact. Her small waistline hadn’t grown an inch, her ass was just as thick and her breasts were just enough to give any man a mouthful. Ceazia always said it was hard being that bitch that everyone seemed to love to hate, but she didn’t mind putting in the work it took to be that bitch.
As if the city hadn’t hated the shit out of her before, Ceazia had managed to gain a few silent enemies after Vegas’s death and even more after Snake, Duke, and Bear’s deaths. Yes, she was the one responsible for the deaths of four of the most popular men in Norfolk; men that niggas claimed to be the hardest cats in the city couldn’t even take out, which made her the baddest bitch.
Vegas was her ex-boyfriend who she had loved more than her own life, which wasn’t an easy deed for Ceazia, considering how much she loved herself. It was Vegas that had introduced her to the life of the streets. But when he fucked up and crossed the line and made a move on Meikell, Ceazia’s best friend at the time, she lost it and put them both to rest. Then a year later Ceazia noticed that no man, not even Vegas’s prior supplier, Bear, could ever compare to the lifestyle Vegas had provided for her, but she figured Vegas’s brother, Snake, would come the closest. So with nothing but money on her mind, she set her sights after him. Knowing she would have to proceed with caution, Ceazia moved slowly to sink her claws into Snake, using his naive nephew, Duke, as a crutch while doing so. When it was all said and done, Ceazia had gotten herself in the middle of a murderous love triangle. But it just so happened that in this battle, like all the rest, she was the only one left standing.
It was apparent that people weren’t feeling Ceazia. As a result of all the drama on the streets, the beef some had with Ceazia was considered silent. Not one of them had the balls to actually confront her with their speculations that she was behind the madness. It didn’t take Ceazia long to hear the rumors on the streets, though. Ceazia had gotten branded and was known as a money-hungry psychotic bitch; a bitch that would rob a nigga and then, blind or in plain view, straight kill his ass. Now that was a hell of a title. Although Ceazia knew she’d done some grimy things in her day, she was still shocked to know that was what people were thinking of her. Surely other niggas on the streets had done worse. Who was she to become a hood legend?
As one could expect, a title like that left most females afraid to even look at her in the wrong way, and most niggas wanted no dealings. With the day-to-day bullshit they had to deal with from envious niggas on the streets there was no room for a vicious chick like Ceazia. The bitches didn’t matter to Ceazia. She could handle them. But she needed every baller nigga she could get her hands on for money, so their opinion did, to some degree, matter.
After Ceazia’s initiation to the game as a Gangster’s Girl, hustling was the only way she knew for survival. She tried her hand at being the perfect girlfriend instead of a gold digger. She had even decided to follow the advice of those stupid-ass Destiny’s Child bitches and cater to her man instead of running game, fucking and bucking, or any other quick-trick ideas she could pull out of her hat. But in the end, she got fucked—raw dog, up the ass, without even some warm spit as a lubricant. And anyone who knew Ceazia Devereaux knew that she was not one to get mad at the game or its players; she got even! You may have gotten one over on her, but you wouldn’t live to talk about it.
After her ex-boyfriend, a former rapper named Parlay, broke her heart, Ceazia swore on everything she loved and owned that no nigga would ever get the chance to get over on her again. From that point on a guy could only provide her with money, and maybe a little dick. And that’s only if she got tired of the strap-on that Diamond had recently introduced her to.
With so many haters and so many parties, it had become quite expensive for Ceazia to floss each night in hopes of catching the eye of her next victim. With her road dawg, Diamond, by her side, Ceazia made it a point to make a statement wherever they went and it was costing her at least three grand a party. Three grand is cool; ain’t nothin’ but a drop in the bucket when you have consistent money coming in, but it’s a bitch when it only seems to be constantly going out. So as Ceazia partied, she scanned the club. And before she knew it, it was time for her next casualty in this game she had managed to get caught up in, but had a hell of a time getting out of.
Since she’d been to the A, she learned a few tricks and couldn’t wait to test them out on just the right guy in VA.
“Two bottles of Rosé champagne?” the waitress said as she finally returned with Ceazia’s order, placing the ice-filled bucket and two bottles on the table. She then placed two champagne glasses and a few napkins down with them. “Three hundred. Cash only.” She held out her hand and rolled her neck. For some reason she thought that she was making it hard for Ceazia to pay for the champagne by demanding cash only.
Ceazia grinned and then dug into her oversized Chanel bag. . .
“Excuse me?” the waitress responded to Ceazia’s request with plenty of attitude as though Ceazia’s comment had been directed towards her instead of the two broads at the bar.
“Two . . .” Ceazia held up two fingers, “bot-tles of Ro-sé.” She spoke to the waitress as though she was retarded or hard of hearing, using her fingers to make up sign language.
“They are one-fifty each; One . . . five . . . zero each,” the waitress replied, lips twisted and head tilted to the side as she held up each number with her hand as if she was now doing sign language. She then continued. “Are you sure you want two?” the waitress spat, looking Ceazia up and down—insinuating that Ceazia couldn’t possibly afford the two bottles of Rosé she’d ordered.
“Looks like we have another hater,” Diamond, who was sitting right next to Ceazia, whispered in Ceazia’s ear after taking note of the comment the waitress had just made.
“Damn, you know what? You’re right?” Ceazia said, scratching her head as if rethinking her request. “I may need to order three bottles. It looks like we have an additional hater who has just joined the crowd. But I don’t know if I can blame her. I mean, look at her.” Ceazia gave the waitress the once-over. “If I was fat and ugly, I would hate a bitch like me too.” Ceazia laughed, and without saying another word or even looking in the waitress’s direction, she held up two fingers in her face, confirming the fact that she still wanted two bottles of Rosé champagne.
Ceazia didn’t even bother to further entertain the obvious ignorance of the waitress as she just stood there glaring at Ceazia as if she was going to react to the way Ceazia had just dissed her.
Hell, maybe a bitch really should order three bottles, Ceazia thought with a snicker. Two for the haters and an additional one to crack across the head of this bitch’s hatin’ ass. It wasn’t clear if the waitress had come to her senses and decided to just keep it rolling or if she’d gotten the picture that Ceazia’s word was final, but after Ceazia moved the two fingers so close to the waitress’s nose that she almost touched it, the chick said no more and eventually just stomped away, rolling her eyes and sucking her teeth.
Diamond and Ceazia sat at Club Reign and watched as the crowd grew thicker as the night got later. They kept their eyes glued to the door. It was just about twelve o’clock and the club had almost reached its capacity. They knew in a few more minutes the doors would be shut and the only ones that would get in at that point were the true ballers that were able to break enough bread to change security’s mind about opening the doors. And that was the moment they were waiting for. Like a fiend desperate for a hit, Ceazia and Diamond would be on the ballers; getting first dibs. It was nothing for the two of them to tag-team a nigga just to get in his pockets. Diamond and Ceazia had only been comrades a little more than a year, but it seemed like they’d known each other forever. They always knew what the other was thinking and they always shared the same point of view. And if there ever was a time when Diamond thought she felt differently about something than how Ceazia felt, it didn’t take much for Ceazia to change Diamond’s thought process.
Now that the unsuspected hater, little miss waitress, was gone, it was time for Ceazia to focus her attention back to the bar where the official haters, India and Carmen, two chicks that she used to roll tight with back in the day, sat. The looks on their faces were priceless once they had spotted Ceazia Devereaux in the flesh and blood; live and direct, right before their eyes. It was as though they had seen a ghost. They looked like a deer caught in the headlights of Ceazia’s Hummer H2; frightened to death with no chance of survival.
“What the hell did you do to them?”, Diamond asked Ceazia, noticing the looks on India and Carmen’s faces.
“To be honest, I’ve never done anything directly to either of them,” Ceazia stated, giving Diamond an indirect answer in hopes of avoiding telling her the real story behind the beef; they suspected her of killing Meikell, once a friend to them all. “I think they’re just surprised to see me. I don’t know if it’s from the embarrassment of how I’m high rollin’ compared to them, or just my mere presence alone that’s got them shook.” Ceazia took a sip of her white Zinfandel she had been babysitting as she examined the two women one by one and then she continued with her reasoning. “Those chicks used to be my homegirls, and from the looks of things, much hasn’t changed since a few years ago when we used to hang. I wouldn’t be surprised if those bitches were still driving the same car, living in the same old crib, working the same dead-end jobs and sucking the same dick. And when I say sucking the same dick, I mean the both of them sucking the same single dick!” Ceazia and Diamond both burst out in laughter.
“Wait!” Diamond said, after almost choking on her white Zinfandel. “What are we laughing at? We’ve sucked the same dick before.”
Ceazia and Diamond continued to laugh, clinking their glasses together.
“Now don’t get me wrong, I ain’t knocking them for being stable, but if you and I are sucking the same dick, or any dick for that matter, there had better be some benefits.” Ceazia pointed to India and Carmen. “And it is evident from their appearance that nothing is jumping. They are wearing the same old jewels and same old clothes. And the worse shit of all is that bag Carmen is carrying is a Gucci bag that I bought her. And to shovel more shit on top of a manure pile, I bought the bag damn nearly three years ago. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if that is Iceberg she has on. Now you tell me why they look so corny. They done spent the last of their last getting up in VIP that they can’t even buy a drink, so they standing around with dry mouths waiting on some nigga to offer to buy them a drink. But any real baller can see through their nostalgic-looking asses. Those hoes might as well have Jheri curls and shit.”
Diamond wasn’t as blunt and obvious as Ceazia, so she tried to discreetly observe the girls. After doing so, she shrugged her shoulders as if to say she had no defense for the chicks. They appeared to fit Ceazia’s critique like a glove.
“Exactly,” Ceazia continued. “Outdated tramps.” She took another sip of her drink and then said, “I know they want to turn into an ostrich and just bury their little weave-filled heads!” Diamond and Ceazia laughed and threw back the last of their drinks. Five minutes hadn’t passed before Ceazia caught yet another set of females staring in her direction.
“Damn!” Ceazia snapped. “Bitches are wearing the hate on thick tonight,” she said to Diamond, noticing even another set of bitches whispering and pointing in her direction. “Is it because we’re fly to death?”
“Maybe it’s because you look like you just stepped off a rap video. I think they want your autograph,” Diamond said, referencing Ceazia’s latest look.
“Let’s really give them something to talk about.” Ceazia looked over at Diamond with a mischievous smirk on her lips. Diamond ran her tongue inside her jaw and returned the smirk with a nod of her head.
Ceazia sensually slid her arm around Diamond’s neck, not caring what the next person thought of their public display of female-to-female affection. If her luck was any good, she’d hope to catch the eye of some horny baller and turn him on. Diamond loved when Ceazia openly showed her feelings for her so she didn’t mind playing right into things. She grabbed Ceazia around the waist and pulled her close as they tongued each other down. It was as though the DJ had cut off the record and the music had stopped. The entire club was focused on Ceazia and Diamond. After their intimate kiss, they both laughed as all the men looked like they wanted to pull out their hard dicks and jerk them while all the females twisted their lips and rolled their eyes in disgust.
Every since Ceazia had moved back to Virginia from Atlanta, she’d made it a habit of shining on a bitch every chance she got. Her long black hair had been replaced with a stylish mohawk and her basic conservative designer jeans and nice shirt style had been replaced with outlandish designer clothing like True Religion, BAPE, Red Monkey, and Ed Hardy, topped off with colorful accessories and a wild attitude. But one thing for sure had not changed; Ceazia’s brick-house frame was still intact. Her small waistline hadn’t grown an inch, her ass was just as thick and her breasts were just enough to give any man a mouthful. Ceazia always said it was hard being that bitch that everyone seemed to love to hate, but she didn’t mind putting in the work it took to be that bitch.
As if the city hadn’t hated the shit out of her before, Ceazia had managed to gain a few silent enemies after Vegas’s death and even more after Snake, Duke, and Bear’s deaths. Yes, she was the one responsible for the deaths of four of the most popular men in Norfolk; men that niggas claimed to be the hardest cats in the city couldn’t even take out, which made her the baddest bitch.
Vegas was her ex-boyfriend who she had loved more than her own life, which wasn’t an easy deed for Ceazia, considering how much she loved herself. It was Vegas that had introduced her to the life of the streets. But when he fucked up and crossed the line and made a move on Meikell, Ceazia’s best friend at the time, she lost it and put them both to rest. Then a year later Ceazia noticed that no man, not even Vegas’s prior supplier, Bear, could ever compare to the lifestyle Vegas had provided for her, but she figured Vegas’s brother, Snake, would come the closest. So with nothing but money on her mind, she set her sights after him. Knowing she would have to proceed with caution, Ceazia moved slowly to sink her claws into Snake, using his naive nephew, Duke, as a crutch while doing so. When it was all said and done, Ceazia had gotten herself in the middle of a murderous love triangle. But it just so happened that in this battle, like all the rest, she was the only one left standing.
It was apparent that people weren’t feeling Ceazia. As a result of all the drama on the streets, the beef some had with Ceazia was considered silent. Not one of them had the balls to actually confront her with their speculations that she was behind the madness. It didn’t take Ceazia long to hear the rumors on the streets, though. Ceazia had gotten branded and was known as a money-hungry psychotic bitch; a bitch that would rob a nigga and then, blind or in plain view, straight kill his ass. Now that was a hell of a title. Although Ceazia knew she’d done some grimy things in her day, she was still shocked to know that was what people were thinking of her. Surely other niggas on the streets had done worse. Who was she to become a hood legend?
As one could expect, a title like that left most females afraid to even look at her in the wrong way, and most niggas wanted no dealings. With the day-to-day bullshit they had to deal with from envious niggas on the streets there was no room for a vicious chick like Ceazia. The bitches didn’t matter to Ceazia. She could handle them. But she needed every baller nigga she could get her hands on for money, so their opinion did, to some degree, matter.
After Ceazia’s initiation to the game as a Gangster’s Girl, hustling was the only way she knew for survival. She tried her hand at being the perfect girlfriend instead of a gold digger. She had even decided to follow the advice of those stupid-ass Destiny’s Child bitches and cater to her man instead of running game, fucking and bucking, or any other quick-trick ideas she could pull out of her hat. But in the end, she got fucked—raw dog, up the ass, without even some warm spit as a lubricant. And anyone who knew Ceazia Devereaux knew that she was not one to get mad at the game or its players; she got even! You may have gotten one over on her, but you wouldn’t live to talk about it.
After her ex-boyfriend, a former rapper named Parlay, broke her heart, Ceazia swore on everything she loved and owned that no nigga would ever get the chance to get over on her again. From that point on a guy could only provide her with money, and maybe a little dick. And that’s only if she got tired of the strap-on that Diamond had recently introduced her to.
With so many haters and so many parties, it had become quite expensive for Ceazia to floss each night in hopes of catching the eye of her next victim. With her road dawg, Diamond, by her side, Ceazia made it a point to make a statement wherever they went and it was costing her at least three grand a party. Three grand is cool; ain’t nothin’ but a drop in the bucket when you have consistent money coming in, but it’s a bitch when it only seems to be constantly going out. So as Ceazia partied, she scanned the club. And before she knew it, it was time for her next casualty in this game she had managed to get caught up in, but had a hell of a time getting out of.
Since she’d been to the A, she learned a few tricks and couldn’t wait to test them out on just the right guy in VA.
“Two bottles of Rosé champagne?” the waitress said as she finally returned with Ceazia’s order, placing the ice-filled bucket and two bottles on the table. She then placed two champagne glasses and a few napkins down with them. “Three hundred. Cash only.” She held out her hand and rolled her neck. For some reason she thought that she was making it hard for Ceazia to pay for the champagne by demanding cash only.
Ceazia grinned and then dug into her oversized Chanel bag. . .
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The Return of a Gangster's Girl
Chunichi
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