By the time my jet touched down on the Delacroix runway carved into the mountains outside of Prince Valley, California, the women had already been on my mind. Not because I missed them. Not because I worried.
But because they embarrassed me, and now I had every right to say fuck them all.
The convoy brought me straight toObsidian Records, the empire my father left me, the one I built into something nobody could touch when I was nineteen years old. The building rose sharply against the Los Angeles skyline, dark-tinted glass walls catching the California sun. It wasn’t just a label… it was a fortress.
Thefirst floor was music studios in motion twenty-four hours. Women in and out, some begging for their shot, others already signed to my name. Walls lined with plaques, every surface buzzing with ambition. All I signed were women of all races and genres of music. I even had a couple of heavy metal girls topping the charts.
Thesecond floor was mafia business. Contracts, PR, finance, lawyers… all of it ran through here. And on the top floor, my office. My throne room. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. Black marble desk. Velvet couches. A boardroom big enough for twenty of my enemies… or lovers… to sit and be reminded who was in charge.
I walked in like I never left. My assistant,Darius Braxton, who was on the phone, already had my itinerary waiting, his voice sliding smoothly through the speakerphone.
“Welcome back, boss. France treat you right?”
I dropped into my chair, loosening my tie. “Why didn’t you tell me my women were out here acting like animals for three weeks?”
There was silence on the line for half a beat.
“Because you told me not to disturb you when you’re on family business. Your words.”
“Family business doesn’t mean I want to wake up to videos of them fighting like hood rats. Next time, you call me.”
“Understood.”
“Good.” I leaned back. “Now text them. Individually. Tell them to meet me for dinner. Nine o’clock. My boardroom.”
“Yes, sir. Any particular arrangements?”
“Have the chef cook their favorite meals, and a dozen roses.”
Darius didn’t hesitate. “On it.”
“Thanks, brother.”
I hung up, tossed the phone on the desk, and stood. I walked to my office bathroom, gleaming in polished marble, steam already waiting. I stripped down, stepped under the shower, and let the hot water cut through the jet lag.
I thought about my upcoming meeting with my ladies. They thought they had me figured out, thought I was comfortable with them doing whatever they wanted. But they forgot something: I didn’t chase women. I didn’t need them. I let them orbit me because it amused me. Because it was convenient. Because I liked to watch. It was selfish, yeah, but I was young and living life… I guess they were, too.
But tonight, the game changed.
I stepped out, water dripping down my chest, and dried off. My reflection stared back at me. Brown skin, wavy fade on point, jawline cut like a blade, deep ass dimples that people saw as a weakness. My father’s ghost, my mother’s light brown eyes. The Delacroix name stamped across my chain.
I pulled on something casual. Black designer sweats, fitted tee, diamond watch. No suit. I didn’t need armor to tell them what I had to say.
This wasn’t going to be a dinner. It was going to be a funeral for what I was about to do.
A funeral for the version of me that let five women drag my name through the dirt without consequence.
By the time the clock hit eight-thirty, the boardroom smelled like a restaurant. My chef had outdone himself. He brought in filet mignon for Bianca, jerk lamb for Lyric, roasted sea bass for Amara, Cuban sliders for Naomi, and a tray of buttered lobster tails for Leona. Five different meals for five different women.
They didn’t know it yet, but this was their last supper.
I poured myself a drink and sat at the head of the long glass table, lights dimmed. Downtown L.A. glowed at my back like a crown.
At eight-forty-five, the elevator opened.
Amara was first, just like I knew she would be, because she was all about timing and planning. White silk blouse, high-waisted pants, a diamond necklace I got her. She smiled when she saw me, but her eyes searched me like she was bracing for something. I let her kiss my cheek, then pointed at her chair without a word.
“Thank you for inviting me,” she said softly.
