“Your husband still has breath in his body because he has precious information that belongs to us. Know that we do not give a fuck about you or his offsprings. Fortunately for you, we promised our mother there would be no blood shed during her birthday month, and we like to keep our promises.
“Should you find yourself in doubt before you see my face again Tuesday morning at eleven, then understand I will not hesitate to detonate the explosions we have in the arsenal for you and your husband. That includes the release of my archives.”
“Bu–”
“Same place as last time. Tuesday. Eleven.”
I ended the call and opened the camera roll.
There it is.
Derrick, Odessa’s husband, trying to suck the polish off the plastic dick as he told me how well he’d behave as it was lodged in his asshole.
“Hypocite!”
Sexuality, in my opinion, was far too critical and sensitive of a subject. I didn’t give a damn who the people I loved were fucking or sucking unless they were detrimental to their health or our family’s wealth. Beyond those parameters, I hoped they got the ceilings sucked out of their pussies every chance they got by whoever they chose.
Solitude quieted my thoughts. I stripped down to the body that God had given me. My feet glided into the slippers near the bed. I stalked the suite’s floor until I reached the bathroom. My things lined the shower. A smile rearranged the features of my face.
My nipples hardened as the bathroom’s coolness rested on my skin. Painfully, they stretched, protruding without apologies. I pressed them against the glass as I reached over and twirled the gold knob.
“Mmmm.”
Water poured from the showerhead. The pleasurable pain I was suffering from subsided as heat began to warm the space around me. I straightened my spine and spun around, facing the mirror.
As it began to cloud from the steam, I peered at my reflection. My hands pulled together, palms covering my breasts. I tilted my head, admiring all the wonderful parts of me. My pussy was bald. My thighs expanded slightly. My frame was thin. And lean. And long. My belly button was just that. A button. It was neither protruding or sunken. It was circular. Perfectly round.
Rhea and Richie had paired well. I was a combination of them both, but I was my father’s daughter. To my core, I was Richard Childers. I bled his blood. Thought his thoughts. Said his words. Took his lessons to heart. Strategized as he had taught me. And, kept my head on straight as he’d required.
I pulled my bottom lip into my mouth as my emotions surrounded me. Deeply, I drew in a breath. And, slowly, I released it. A smile pulled at my lips as I shook away the heaviness creeping into my spirit.
“There’s no time, baby. There’s shit to handle.”
I snatched the silk hair dressing from the counter and slid it on my head, sure not to destroy whatever the full face covering hadn’t.
“Hey, Ria.”
The small, round ball on the bathroom counter lit up a golden brown.
“Yes, Miss Raines?”
Chuckling at the alias I’d used when booking the room with Derrick’s hard-earned cash.
“I’d like to hear soft Jazz by Black musicians like Louis and Miles and Duke and Ella.”
“Black Jazz now playing.”
“Thank you,” I whispered as I stepped into the warm shower.
I emerged from the stairwell with the black leather bag on my forearm. The thought of the elevator’s doors closing on me for the twentieth time today was repulsive. I couldn’t bear it.
“Besides,” I reasoned, “I needed the steps.”
My heels collided with the floor beneath me. My chocolate-colored dress swayed with each step I took. The door ofThe Balgariawas so near but felt so far away. And, frankly, I wasn’t ready to end my night in the bed, under the covers.
The night was still so young. I’d collected all of the infinity stones and had Derrick by the balls, quite literally. A celebratory drink sounded so much better than the wine waiting for me at home.
I’ll still have it though. I chuckled as the thought crossed my mind.
