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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Crime/Gangster · #2094253
How far would you go to win?
"Hello darkness, my old friend" Shelle half sang, half spoke as she walked into her dark apartment. Her husband was out on the campaign trail for her, and her Secret Service agents had already swept the apartment. There was nothing to thrill her or surprise her. This was my construct.

"What would the voters think if they knew that their beloved Shelle Silver was talking to herself?" The voice startled her, she clutched her chest in surprise. Even though she already knew who it was, light from a lamp illuminated who it was: Her opponent in the race to become President of the United States, Chris Wiggum. "That would have made a great commercial, but alas I am not here for that reason."

"What are you doing here? You know that we can't be seen together. If the press got wind of this..."

"That's why I'm here. There's a blogger that is closing in on the truth. We need to do something about him before he blows the whole thing up and we both end up in prison." After nearly three decades in politics, Shelle knew that a very small minority of people took blogs very "What are we going to do?"

"Don't worry, I have someone watching Lenny Golden very closely. If he publishes anything close to what we have done, he'll be dealt with accordingly."

"When you asked me to be a ringer in this election, I had no idea how difficult it would be. The press crucifies me on a daily basis. My businesses are suffering, one of my hotels may go under."

"Poor little billionaire. Nobody told you to say all of these outrageous things. What was the latest one you said? 'Women shouldn't be allowed to vote because they aren't rational.' Did you think that would win them over?" Shelle went to the bar and poured both of them a glass of Brandy. "I do have to admit that this is the easiest election that I've been a part of. Even your party is voting for me."

"What are we going to do about Golden? His publishes a story about me daily on his blog and in each of them, he is insinuating that he knows about our little deal." Chris flinched as the liquid burned his throat. "Once the story hits, if he has as much proof as he claims, everyone will be on top of it."

Shelle pulled out her phone and typed an email. She deleted it, once she knew that it was sent. "One of my operatives will take care of Mr. Golden and The Golden Rules. Nobody will question what happens to him because he has a well-documented case of depression."

"You are even colder than what Fox News says you are." A half-smile was exchanged between them.

"My statement will read something like: 'It is with deep sadness that I learned that Lenny Golden passed away under these circumstances. He was a champion of the American People, and even though in recent weeks he challenged me, I appreciated him."

"He's not even dead yet!" Chris exclaimed, his breath labored. "How can you already know what you're going to say?"

"This isn't my first rodeo. You have to be ahead of the story and change the tone."

"Listen Shelle, is it too late for me to drop out? I can't do this and you already have a large enough lead. Marina doesn't like the scrutiny that she is under, especially since people are now looking into her past."

"Yes, it is too late. We're in the home stretch now, all you have to do is keep dropping the ball and saying idiotic things. You've never quit anything in your life, why are you trying to quit this? You're winning at losing and the publicity and opportunities that you'll get from this will make up for some dumb hotel that would have went out of business anyways."

"What do I tell Marina?"

"She shouldn't have sold her body to the highest bidder. I've never understood why you married her in the first place."

"The same reason you married Bobby. To advance my career and position within the business community."

"Well I won't complain about her much; her past is certainly going to come in handy. It'll torpedo any chance of a religious organization endorsing you and secure my place in the White House." Shelle turned to pour them another glass, when she felt hom wrap his arms around her. His breath tickled the back of her neck. "What?"

"I love that you are determined to be more than a wife, that you have ambitions and are chasing what you want. To see you win is worth losing everything I have." Chris turned her around and kissed her.

When they pulled away from one another, Shelle brushed the wrinkles in pantsuit. "What if someone had walked in? You know that nobody can know we're together. Especially Bobby."

"Can't you just have him taken care of, the way you did with Lenny Golden?"

"No! Bobby is one of the greatest assets I have. While I enjoy our time together, and you are playing your part in my eventual victory, Bobby stays. And as much as it pains me to say, so does Marina. But once the election is over, you can get rid of her."

"You may have to make her disappear. We're nearing the time when our prenup is set to expire and she'll walk away with a nice chunk of my fortune."

"I'll have it taken care of." A devious grin on her face. Chris pulled her in for one more kiss and then left.

Once she was sure she was alone, she composed another email. "Get rid of Marina Wiggum. She's becoming problematic. Any evidence she may have against me needs to be turned into me ASAP. Also make sure that it looks like Chris Wiggum is the murderer. Hooker past the motive."

After it was sent, she deleted the email.

© Copyright 2016 Author Ed Anderson (spaz11081 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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