#em fleming

Who the fuck do you think you are saying that. Just like a coward to hide in the shadows? Em lives a life as a product of her past but SHE is not the product. She’s a living, breathing human being and I promise not the person you see on the surface. She’s not a dirty secret either. So fuck off, asshole. 

The flight back from Kyiv felt longer than the entirety of his trip. There were few things in this world that would ever force Kenndey Mitchell back to Ukraine. There was a price on his head there and he knew it, but there were a select few in the Terasenko family that he still trusted with his life and Klara was one of them. Her ship was tighter ran than even Pavlo’s and word from her meant something needed serious attention.

When the call came, Kennedy was boarding his private plane before the call even ended. He’d been looking for his younger brother Nico for years in the hopes of securing a future for him in America. Now that Kennedy was not only rich but a powerful man he thought he’d be able to keep Nico save and out of the hands of the Rykov family. Klara’s call was to the point. A body had been fished out of Berkovshchyna Gulf just outside of the city with identification saying he was Nicolai Semkov. Klara used her influence to get the body and give Kennedy a chance to identify him. 

Kennedy spent over an hour preparing himself only to find it was not the baby he’d abandoned. His Nico had a scare that would not so easily disappear over time. Had it been a ploy for his presence? Kennedy thanked Klara and returned to the airport, his head reeling and mind racing. Was it just a fluke that a man with the same name was found murdered or were the Rykov’s finally making their move to bring Ivan Mazur out of the woodwork?

As his car pulled in to the home he’d known for over a decade Kennedy longed for something more than the life he’d built. Before leaving he spent some time with a beautiful woman that was a challenge, to say the least. Headstrong and very independent to say the least she was not impressed by Kennedy’s money or the lifestyle it could afford. In her absence though he long for the way she smelled and her laugh. He wanted to feel her silky skin under his coarse hands. Before his jacket was off he found himself dialing her number and hoping she was home and not out working.

Back in his chambers, Clifton grunted at the young file clerk who'd placed the morning's dockets on his desk. Making the transition from family court judge to criminal court had been way more lucrative and certainly reflected in his bank account but at the end of the day sitting on the bench was losing its appeal. Sometimes he missed the days back when he was still a young lawyer, fighting the good fight - or at least pretending to.

Slipping on his judicial robe, Clifton grabbed the stack of case files without even looking. It would be another long day of repeat offenders - young men angry at the world and taking it out on people with petty crimes. Clifton Wallace didn't handle trial cases. HE worked speedy low-level crimes. It took away from the glory of telling people he was a criminal court judge. Women he'd date would get excited but no, he did not work murder cases or anything of that nature. Burglary, armed robbery, drug charges, and prostitution. That was the main caseload.

Today would be no different. Freddie McGuire was back in front of him the fifth time this year. It gave Clifton great pleasure to sentence him to three years. At least he wouldn't have to see his face again from a while. Next case, as he grabbed the docket for the court clerk to read aloud the file slid to the side. The next file read Fleming. Could it be? He scoped the room looking but did not see a blonde head in the crowd. Sean Smith was appearing a second time and quickly Judge Wallace went through the standard questions with the public defender. Next case... please be Emery. My Emery.

Sure enough, a pink haired beauty stepped up to the table. She looked older but the same. It had been over three years since he'd seen her face. Last time she was fifteen and in family court. Clearing his throat he had to think quick to get the upper hand here. Em Fleming knew way too much about him. "I have to say that I am familiar with the defendant, Miss Berkley. Em Fleming was in and out of my family court. WOuld the defendant prefer I recuse myself?"

@emeryfleming​

Five years had passed since the last alteration in Alejandro's life. For years he was hell-bent on getting his revenge on the people that murdered his wife and daughter. His sole focus was killing the man that cut off his wife's head after that man let his men rape her repeatedly. He wanted the man that was so vile he would place Alejandro's 12-year-old daughter in a vat of acid and leave her on the porch of their family home. Fausto Alarcon was now dead. It was just business, the man had said right before Alejandro killed him and his entire family. The problem with leaving people alive is they seek revenge.

He'd found out Alarcon was just the hitman. The one who had ordered the hit was still in hiding. Carlos Reyes was the mastermind and yet too cowardice in the eyes of Alejandro to step out into the light and take his punishment. The fall of the Medellin cartel was only the beginning, the murder of Alarcon a turning point, and the kidnapping of Isabella Reyes the final straw. In the time that passed, Alejandro was building his own army to take on Reyes, giving the tyrant false hope. He had people on his side like the impressionable and malleable Miguel Hernandez who showed courage and fortitude in his attempt to take Alejandro out.

There was one more piece of the puzzle. The buzz on the streets of Cuidad Juarez was that Carlos had grown careless in the absence of his child. A never-ending stream of pussy flowed from his estate for Reyes and his men to do with what they wanted. Alejandro needed one of those women to penetrate the Reyes fortress by being penetrated, for lack of a better term. Weeks before he'd caught wind of an American girl living in Juarez. Miguel came home ranting about this blonde haired beauty he'd seen in the market place and how he would love to bend her over something and show her a real man. It was not Alejandro's place to teach Miguel how to be anything other than a criminal. That, they both were. If he was going to be a pig, that was on him.

He followed her, listening to conversations, finding where she lived and that she was living in Juarez with another young woman from America named Zaniah Collins. Turns out both women were wanting for questioning back in Long Beach, California for the death of a district court judge named Clifton Wallace. Apparently, they were on the run and this played right into Alejandro's favor.

Zaniah worked at a sleazy bar called Erotic's. Catering to the horny young tourist's a slender raven-haired American was just what the place needed and it played into their the hands of Zaniah and Emery that the owner liked prostitutes. Em worked wherever the money was - tonight she was at the bar. Her long white legs called to any man wanting a good time and Alejandro slid on to the stool beside her and ordered a drink. Without looking her way he spoke in a low growl, "Are you working tonight?"

@emeryfleming

Miguel was nervous. That wasn't out of the realm of being ordinary. He'd known from the very beginning of his life that being a criminal wasn't all it was cracked up to be. Through it all, he played a part and he played it well. He'd proven his loyalty time and again and those acts kept him alive and kept him trusted. Four years had passed since he was confronted by the man who would take him under his wing.

Alejandro Gillick was supposed to be dead. Miguel shot him in the head but that proved to be his face and the older man survived. Now Miguel was working both sides of the fence. He was still running for Carlos Reyes, a valued and trusted employee but he worked for Alejandro as well as gathering all the information he could. What Miguel had acquired was that Carlos had a shipment leaving Mexico but what was in the shipment was a mystery and when it was happening was also up in the air.

The mission now was to get those details before time ran out. The plan? Bring in a beautiful woman to steal those secrets from him any way possible. Em Fleming was Alejandro's choice. She was lovely, spoke Spanish, was wily, talented and strong. And the one huge plus was she was willing. Miguel had been instructed to pick her up and stay at a hotel with her one night. They needed to devise their plan for the inside and Alejandro could hardly dictate that. Miguel was the man on the inside so he knew all the daily ins and outs of the estate.

Pulling up in his beater car, Miguel reached over and popped the door open for Em. "Come on, I'm here for you." The nerves came because int eh months since he'd first seen her he'd grown smitten but never had the courage to approach her. Miguel had talked shit to the guys about all the things he'd wanted to do but the truth was Miguel was a lover, not a fighter. His fight was whatever kept him alive, but at the end of the day, what man didn't want a beautiful woman wrapped in his arms? Reaching over as he pulled away from the curb, he stuck out his hand. "Hi there, I'm Miguel. You're Em, right?"

@emeryfleming