Stephanie is Still Rich (Unedited)

Mama always said: “the rich get richer,” though she wasn’t the first to observe this fact. Percy Bysshe Shelley wrote in his 1821 essay: A Defense of Poetry that “the rich get richer and the poor get poorer,” observing that the wealth of the rich grows quicker (through investments, earning passive income, etcetera) than those relying on labor wages.

But mama’s observation was not about eating the rich or getting rid of the one percent. It was about making sure the rich stay rich! Whether it is through funding political alleys that follow her belief, in hopes of continuing to live the lavash lifestyle that she has always known since birth. Or getting her hands dirty in helping with voter fraud, by funding a country that-shall-not-be-named to help win the election of her chosen president of the United States of America.

I, on the other hand, never liked politics; it’s too messy to deal with. I’m more into partying and spending Daddy’s money on things that I like, for example: my daily 20-dollar coffee that I buy at 5th St. at the little café that is locally owned.

Right now, all I could think about was:

My hair being flawless.

My nails being flawless.

And my tits being on point!

“Let’s get this party started,” I cheered through the brown sack that lay over my head.

“This isn’t a surprise party, Miss LeRoach. This is a kidnapping,” the driver said.

“Right, a kidnapping,” I said winking, though they could not see it, while using air quotes even though my hands were tied behind my back.

Today, of all days was my 22nd birthday. On December 25, 2033, I thought I was being surprised by my friends, but it turned out my driver and whoever else is in this car is kidnapping me! And yes! It is Christmas day also known as Jesus’s birthday for those that follow the religion. And yes! Those born on this day get double the gifts (at least I have gotten double the gifts).

The beginning of the week has been rotten, and a surprise party was the cup of joe I needed to cheer me up! But no, I am getting kidnapped instead. And it feels like no one is searching for me. I heard another sigh from a familiar voice. No! It couldn’t be. Could it?

“Snookie,” I asked in bewilderment.

“Nope, you-you have the wrong person,” Snookie pitched his voice higher to disguise it, but I recognized my past lover anywhere.

“I broke up with you like a week ago. What are you doing here,” I demanded! I wanted to spit on the floor with how revolting he was. I can’t believe I ever loved this guy.

Father always says: “Marry for the love of money, never for love itself,” and I never understood this saying until last week. At first, I fell into the trap of falling in love for love. I was engaged to be married to my high school sweetheart—Cody Johnson. This man was a dream boat! He came from a good family (meaning his family has good morals who do not come from money), had the looks, and was uber smart! That was my first mistake! I should have heed father’s warning!

Last week, I stood at the archway of the front door of our light blue apartment. While my fiancé was deep inside his co-worker’s mother! She was a 60-year-old woman!

I screamed at the sight before me: “Is that Stacy’s Mom?”

I shook the bag off my head and spat on the floor just thinking about him with Stacy’s Mom! Gross, gross, gross, gross, gross! I spat on the floor again.

“Stop it! You’re spreading your DNA all over the car. I don’t want to have to clean up your mess,” shocking that I ever loved Cody!

Turned out he was only with Stacy’s Mother because she was richer than me! At least someone took my father’s advice. Stacy’s Mom conveniently got her riches from her late husband dying from a heart attack. But of course, she fell for a younger and better-looking guy, and dumped Cody’s ass as quickly as you could say: “Banana.”

“What do you want, Cody?”

“I need the money,” was all he said.

“And you,” I asked the driver.

“I just hate you. You’re a bitch for one thing. Second, I have a fucking name! My name is…”

“Thank you,” I interrupted. I accepted being a bitch it was a life goal of mine, but maybe I could dial it back a bit. Since being a bitch has gotten me in trouble.

“See! This is why I hate you,” the driver spat, “You deserve what is coming to you and your family!”

I yawned at his threat.

The pocketknife that they didn’t remove from my jean pockets was in my hands. I had a few more cuts of the rope to make, and then I was home free. I looked out the window and noticed we were deep into the lush greenery of the Oregon forest. I had no idea where we were, but if I could remove them from the car and drive off, I would be able to figure it out. I still had my purse on the seat next to me with my phone in it. I could use GPS to find my way back.

All those years of jujutsu and karate was going to pay off tonight!

The ropes around my wrist were finally loose. I held the knife in my hand and stabbed the driver in the right side of his neck: “You fucking bitch,” the driver choked on his own blood while crashing the car into a tree.

I fell forward hitting my head against the windshield. While the driver died. Once I got my bearings together, I tried to stab Snookie but ended up hitting the seat instead.

He escaped!

Shit!

I sat back in my seat looking for my purse.

“Fuck my life!”

Snookie took my bag with him. All the passenger doors were left open except mine.

Looking at the time on the dashboard I notice it was only 2:13 in the afternoon. I still had daylight, but it gets dark fast. By five o’clock the sun will have set. I needed to think of the positives here, and that’s finding my way back home.

Cody couldn’t have gotten far.

Once I find him. I will have my purse back. And once I have my purse, I will have my phone.

***

It was hard finding him, but I found him.

His leg was broken and the blood loss was slowing him down.

“Please,” he begged. I stood above him while he sat down on a boulder in pain. “Have mercy on me, Steph.”

“Only my friends and family are allowed to call me by that nickname. And I don’t care how much pain you are in. You tried to kill me.”

“No-no, I was only trying to get your father to pay us. We weren’t going to kill you. I swear.”

I liked that he was begging me to spare him. “Just give me back my purse with my phone in it and we’ll call it a truce.”

He lifted his hand presenting my pink leather Parada purse. I squealed like a pig when I saw her. Home here we go!

I called father detailing everything that happened today. Both my parents were furious with Cody and the now dead driver.

“My men are on their way, sweetie,” Father informed, “and they will take care of him.”

“Thank you.”

I sat next to Cody, inspecting my nails that are now chipped from today’s activities. I’m going to need a fresh manicure once I get back to town. Pity, I liked this set of strawberry nails.

About an hour had passed.

A black SUV pulled up beside us, “Miss LeRoach, are you okay? Your head is bleeding.”

“Probably from the impact of the car accident. I hit my head against the windshield trying to stab the driver.”

“Get the medic. She needs urgent care.”

“What about me?” Cody was throwing a mini tantrum about his broken leg.

“No worries, Cody. We will deal with you.”

Marcus got out of the car. Marcus was a big man. A strong man. He was also a kind man (at least towards me). Uncle Marcus, as I call him since I was a child, has daughters of his own and he treats me like one of his. He reminded me of Bubbles from Lio and Stitch. Scary but with a soft spot in his stone-cold heart.

When he has orders to take, he will not hesitate to obey my father.

The medic helped me onto my feet. I got dizzy getting up so fast that I almost threw up on myself. My pink blouse was new, and I did not want to make a mess on it.

“Easy there, Miss.”

“I’ll be okay, just got a bit dizzy is all.”

They escorted me into the second black SUV.

Once the door closed, I heard a loud: BANG!

Like a gun had gone off.

We drove off once the men entered the cars. Then I saw it: Cody’s limp body with a bullet wound between his green eyes that were left wide open.

“Are we going to leave the bodies around?” I asked once we entered the main road.

“The cleaners will take care of them,” Uncle Marcus replied.

“What about the cops?”

“Nothing to worry about. We have people on the inside. Are you okay miss?”

“My nails are ruined but other than that I am well.”

It was messy, the business my father was in. Some of the money in our banks were blood money, also known as: dirty money, but father enjoyed what he did. He was a mafia boss playing a loving stay-at-home father who loved to cook. He uploads cooking videos on YouTube showcasing his traditional Italian cuisines that he learned from his Nonna. His videos had reached millions, and a lot of people are asking…no, demanding father for a cookbook! Which, to my surprise, father is working on.

While mother on the other hand owns her own company. Mother started a vegan makeup brand that became a global sensation! Of course she had grandpa’s money to help kickstart it, but now she’s worth billions of dollars.

But enough about my parents.

I’m Stephanie M. LaRoach, and this is a crazy day in my life, welcome!

The evergreen forest provided us with shade as Uncle Marcus drove us back to the mansion. Uncle Marcus was clenching and unclenching his hands. Oh boy, was he angry!

But I found it odd, seeing that he took care of the problem. At least, at the time, I thought the problem was taken cared of. With the business my father is in, you could never assume safety.

Something was off with Marcus.

Everything was becoming a blur. As we kept driving, the trees started to look all the same as one another. I let out a little huff in annoyance.

“Everything okay, Miss,” Marcus was trying to play it cool, but I knew something was not right.

I looked down at my pink iPhone noticing the lack of signal. And then just when hope was springing into existence, my phone had to die on me.

“Marcus,” I began to say, “What have you done?”

Sweat was dripping down his forehead. And he clenched and unclenched his hands again.

“I’m sorry, miss.”

Then I felt the hairs of my arms rise as gooseflesh covered me. There was a prick on my neck.

I karate chopped the person next to me, he didn’t do anything yet but he was closest to me, I made his Adam’s apple smash into his throat. As he was choking beside me, I was glaring at Marcus was such rage that his eyes almost bulged out of his head.

Just like Draco Malfoy’s famous saying that I repeated in a similar British accent: “Wait till my father hears about this!”

Marcus was sweating profusely that his collar of his shirt was soaking through, along with his armpits showcasing my threat worked vividly.

Then everything went dark.

But before I completely blacked-out, I heard Marcus say: “This bitch is crazy!”

That I am!