Madam Cocaina:A Queen Pin's Story 3

By: Fatima Munroe


“Sure, Bunzie. What’s that?”

He sat up straight and leaned in closer to face me head on. “Why did your aunt kill my brother?”

“Your brother?”

“Yea. Montrell.”

Angry that he walked into my home and attempted to disrespect the memory of my late husband with his lies, I pushed my chair back and stood up, ready to kill this nigga sitting calmly in front of me. Blinking twice so that I could fully comprehend who sat before me, it took me a minute to wrap my mind around his last two words. As I stared him in his face, I saw those eyes, that nose, those lips. I allowed my eyes to roam and made note of that flat stomach, and similar build. Almost as if they were twins. I glanced down at my wedding ring and looked at him again.

“Montrell…” I whispered as the room began to spin. I knew my bodyguard was standing to my left and moved closer to me as I felt more and more lightheaded. Ramos waved smelling salts underneath my nose before I passed out, and gently placed me back in my chair.

Collecting my thoughts, I took a moment to ponder on the rest of his statement. While Lourdes kept an eye on the kids, Valentina killed Montrell and made it look like a burglary. But how did Bunzie know that?

“Let me get this straight. You and Monte are brothers?”

He smiled at me, and I could’ve sworn my husband was sitting in my presence. “Twins actually. We were separated when we were younger, about six years old. I went to Miami to live with my father, and Montrell stayed in Newark with Ma Dukes. Pops was killed during a robbery, and I ended up in the foster care system here because we didn’t have no family in Florida. I bumped into Monte in Atlanta, and we’ve been catching up on old times. It was crazy when I think about it. But yes, Montrell is my brother. So we have business to discuss, especially since we’re family.”

My mind drifted briefly back to the last long lost relative of mine and her demise. Hopefully for his sake, he wasn’t on that same bullshit. After all, I killed my mother because she thought she was entitled to my crown, not to mention she kidnapped one of my kids.

“Sure Bunzie. We can do business,” I smiled, “I just need to know one thing. What makes you think my aunt killed Montrell? She’s sixty-five years old, she ain’t no killa.”

Bunzie frowned. “Sixty-five? Valentina is sixty-five years old?”

“How do you know her name?”

He shook his head side to side as he lowered it. “I met your aunt coming out of Chipotle on Alpharetta Highway eight months ago. We exchanged numbers and been fucking for a while now; hell, she at my house right now. She told me she was twenty-eight.”

My eyes grew large. “Wait, you’re Valentina’s young’un from Milton?”

Bunzie raised his head and stared me in the face. This story just got interesting.


I knew Valentina loved younger men. She thought it was funny to refer to them as her ‘young tenders’, like they were meat on a slab. What wasn’t funny was her latest conquest: the brother of my first and only love. Did she know Bunzie was my children’s uncle? And if she did, why didn’t she say something before now? Valentina Borrego had some explaining to do.

“Bunzie, we’ll talk about Valentina and Montrell later. Right now, let’s talk about this partnership. What do you think is fair?”

“I’m thinking $250k a key. That sounds about fair since we’re family,” he replied dismissively.

“Tuh, $250k a key?” I laughed. “You’re hilarious. The cartels pay $500k. And why should you get a better deal?”

“Because Ju-Ju. We’re family,” Bunzie smiled sexily, looking just like his twin. I don’t know what Montrell told him about us, but that shit definitely wasn’t gonna fly; Ju-Ju doesn’t do blood relatives.

“We’ll do $400k a key. That’s fair.”

“$400k a key? Ju-Ju….”

“Look Bunzie,” I placed my pistol on the table and pointed it in his direction, “Negotiations are over. $400k is what it is; if you don’t like it, you got two other choices. Get shot at this table, or get shot in the back on your way out of my house. What’s it gonna be?” I asked, eyebrow raised.

Bunzie looked at my gold plated Sig Sauer and smiled. “You would shoot me because I wanted the family discount? Monte never said you were that cold.”

I picked up my pistol and pointed it at his head. “You think you’re gonna waltz in my home looking like my late husband, and I’m just supposed to give you a 50% discount? Tell you what: I’ll give you ten seconds to get the fuck outta here Bunzie, before I change my mind.”

“Maybe I caught you at a bad time,” Bunzie said as he pushed his chair back from the table and stood up. “How about we continue this conversation back on American soil?”

“There is no conversation to continue,” I replied gruffly as I shot him in the hand. “Next shot will be in your heart.”

“AHHH!” Bunzie yelled as he held his hand. “Bitch you shot my ha…”

I put Bunzie out of his misery; nobody who just met me not even thirty minutes ago calls me out of my name, I don’t care who his brother was. Pulling my phone from my purse, I made a call to the luckiest man in Miami.

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