Don
Monday | 12:30am
The city lookedpeaceful from my condo. Lights twinkled below like stars.
The soft hum of jazz filled the air with smooth sax and lies. Cigar smoke and perfume lingered as I leaned back on my velvet couch in nothing but a pair of boxers, drink in hand.
I had a pretty young thing named Rita or Raina, I couldn’t remember, on my lap. She had long legs, curves like God was showing off, and a face that came with enough filler to remind you she had money or knew how to get it out of someone like me.
Her long fingernails dragged slowly over my chest, teasing the scattered hair there, her lips ghosting along my jaw. “Mmm, you’re distracted, babe,” she whispered like she’d earned the right to call me that.
I gave her a lazy smirk, fingers slipping beneath the thin strap of her designer robe. “You’re doing a fine job keeping me entertained, sweetheart.”
She giggled, and it was the kind of practiced laugh that men paid to hear, and leaned forward to reach for the little mirrored tray on the coffee table. There was some of the purest coke, cut into perfect lines. “Then let’s make sure you stay entertained,” she purred, already pulling out a crisp hundred-dollar bill I’d given her from her purse.
I chuckled and shook my head. I should’ve sent her home hours ago. I had too much on my plate, but she looked good and smelled expensive at City Hall, and I needed the distraction. I was all in, ready to go, until my phone buzzed. It vibrated loudly against the marble table, jarring the mood. I glanced at the screen.
My smirk faded instantly. Only a few people had the number for that line, and the ones who did never used it unless it was something I couldn’t ignore.
“Give me a second,” I said, sliding her off me gently, already reaching for the phone. She pouted, annoyance flashing, but I didn’t give a damn. This was business. “Yeah?” I answered, my voice clipped as I rose from the leather couch. Phone pressed to my ear, I slipped outside onto the balcony.
“It’s done,” Tate said on the other end. “They hit the mansion.”
I sat forward, tension coiling in my spine. “And?”
There was a long pause before he continued. “They don’t have the girl.”
I blinked. “What the fuck do you mean, they don’t have my fiancé?”
“Nyce must’ve got her outta there. Look, a lot of my guys’ blood was spilled. It was a fucking massacre, Brandon.”
“I don’t give two fucks.” My whole body tensed. A wave of rage rolled through me so fast it made my hands tremble. “This is not what the fuck I paid you for.”
“I know. But listen, his operation is in disarray. The hit spooked him. We know he’s on the move and unpredictable. If we keep pressure, we can force him to make a mistake.”
I started pacing. “No. No more mistakes. He should’ve been dead already. And the girl…” I ran a hand down my face. “Princess shouldn’t be with him.” I knew it was only a matter of time before Zeke connected the dots and realized the little deal I struck to fix this fucking problem.
“I’ll keep you posted,” Tate said and hung up, leaving me in my erratic thoughts.
I had less than six months to win this reelection, and my whole damn life was collapsing. Behind me, fabric rustled. “Relax,” she cooed, voice syrupy, pressing her lips to my cheek like she understood. “You’re too tense.”
She took my hand and led me back inside to the couch. As soon as we sat down, I reached for my drink and finished it in a long swallow. I watched as she slid the mirror and powder closer to me across the low table, making it clear what she wanted me to do next, almost like a peace offering.
I stared at it. Every instinct screamed to keep my head clear. I needed to focus and plot my next move. But my pulse was pounding, teeth locked so hard I thought they’d shatter. I had to calm down before I did something reckless. So I gave in, picking up the rolled bill, and leaned forward.
The burn hit first, and then came the rush. It was blissful. My hands stopped shaking. My chest stopped rattling. For a few seconds, the world went quiet, and I could breathe again. I exhaled deeply before taking another hit. This shit wasn’t over. Nyce wasn’t going to hide forever. And if I had to go through resource after resource to get my bride back, so be it. I had too much to lose.
