Chapter 129 Take Down Robert
Chapter 129 Take Down Robert
Jezebel’s POV
It doesn’t surprise me when I see Emily and Olivia at my doorstep, knocking with a sense of urgency. Their faces are a mix of determination and desperation. I can tell they’ve come with a proposition—one they believe only I can execute.
In this ghetto, everyone knows my worth. When it comes to men, I’m the one they turn to for difficult tasks. Men are fickle creatures, easily swayed by what they see and what they desire. They can pledge loyalty one minute and change their minds the next. That’s where I come in, manipulating their weaknesses to my advantage.
Emily and Olivia have already briefed me on what I need to do. As I listen, a smirk curls on my lips. Is it a man they want me to handle? An ex-military man who now works as a personal assistant to Matriarch Alessandra? The thought is almost laughable.
After they finish explaining, I agree to the plan. We waste no time, heading straight to Diana’s place. The moment I step inside, she eyes me with a mixture of admiration and wariness. Diana is not one to make empty promises, and today is no different.
“I’ll pay you well for this, Jezebel,” she says, her voice smooth but firm. “We’re not just planning to take down Alessandra. We’re going to steal her wealth, too. If everything goes as planned, you might not have to worry about money for the next ten years.”
I’ve been taking on gigs in the ghetto for as long as I can remember, and the pay is usually pitiful—a hundred dollars here, maybe a little more there. But this? This is different. This is the kind of money that could change my life. And if you think I’m going to pass up a chance like this, you’re dead wrong.
My assets are my weapons—my body, my charm. My buttocks, a heavy “bunda,” have driven many men to the brink of madness. Why should this personal assistant be any different? My perky breasts, firm and fresh like ripe peaches on a summer morning, have a similar effect. Just seeing me from a distance can drive a man wild; up close, they don’t stand a chance.
Living in the ghetto hasn’t dulled my beauty. I take care of myself meticulously. My skin is flawless, and my hair is always perfect. In this neighborhood, I’m the standard of beauty—Jezebel, the temptress. The nickname isn’t just a name; it’s a reputation I’ve carefully crafted.
With Diana’s promise of a huge payout, I don’t waste time. I get straight to work.
Leaving Diana’s house, I flag down a taxi and instruct the driver to take me to Alessandra’s mansion. The ride is quiet, giving me time to think. I know I won’t be granted entrance; I don’t have an appointment, and Matriarch Alessandra doesn’t entertain uninvited guests.
As the taxi pulls up to the mansion, I immediately notice the somber atmosphere. The place feels heavy with sadness, and it doesn’t take long for me to figure out why. It’s all over the news—Matriarch Alessandra’s husband has been arrested.
I need a plan. I can’t just walk up to the gate and expect to be let in. Instead, I find a spot on the street, a vantage point where I can watch and wait. I know she won’t stay inside forever. She’ll need to leave, whether to get a lawyer or visit her husband. She won’t be in that house for 24 hours without stepping out.
And I’m right. From where I sit, I see the gate open. A smirk forms on my lips as I mutter to myself, “Finally, it’s time to put the plan into action.”
As the vehicle pulls out onto the street, I rise to my feet and start walking along the side of the road. Timing is everything. Just as the car is about to pass me, I jump in front of it, letting it hit me.
“Ah!” I scream, crumpling to the ground. My leg throbs with pain, and blood seeps from a minor wound. It’s all part of the plan.
The vehicles in the entourage come to an abrupt stop. I hear doors open, and within seconds, the chauffeur of the car that hit me is at my side, panic written all over his face. Another man steps out of a second car, his suit immaculate, his demeanor commanding. The chauffeur bows to him—this is the man I’m after, the personal assistant.
I keep my face down, pressing it against the cool pavement as I let out another scream. “I’m going to sue! How dare you hit a woman just trying to cross the street? I’m going to sue you!”
For someone of Alessandra’s status, a lawsuit like this would be a disaster. Even if it’s not her fault, the scandal alone could tarnish her reputation. I know this, and I know her personal assistant will do everything in his power to keep this from blowing up.
“I apologize, ma’am,” the assistant says, his voice calm but urgent. “Please, let us take you to the hospital. We’ll cover all the expenses, and we’ll ensure you receive the best care. Just... Please, don’t sue us. We’ll do whatever it takes to make this right.”
This is exactly what I wanted to hear. I keep my smirk hidden, focusing instead on the pain in my leg. “My leg, my leg!” I cry out again, letting the agony show on my face.
The chauffeur bends down to pick me up, but I push him away. No, this isn’t what I want. I need the personal assistant to do it himself. He needs to get close, to feel my body against his, to start the process of seduction.
Understanding my reluctance, the assistant steps forward. He bends down, carefully lifting me into his arms. This is it. This is the moment I’ve been waiting for. I look up at him, locking eyes, letting him see the vulnerability mixed with admiration. It’s a look that says, “You’re my hero,” and I see him falter, his gaze shifting away as if embarrassed.
Men are so predictable. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again—they’re fickle. And right now, at this very moment, the great personal assistant is on the verge of switching his loyalty.
Lol.
As he carries me to the car, I feel the tension in his body. He’s trying to remain professional, but I can sense the cracks forming. This is only the beginning. Soon, he’ll be completely under my spell, and when that happens, taking down Matriarch Alessandra will be a piece of cake.
With me in his arms, the plan is already in motion, and there’s no turning back.