“Where are you headed, Miss Ma’am?” one of my stylists asked with a smile.
“Headed to cut a family member’s hair. My next client isn’t for two hours, so I’ll be back.”
She nodded and went on about her day, but I could feel her eyes on me.
I knew she knew.
We all knew.
I got in my truck and sighed so deep it shook my chest.
Here I was, backtracking for a nigga that might not even give a fuck about me.
Still… I went.
I drove to DTLA, to the high-rise he was swallowed in. Being on his guest list meant the doorman escorted me straight to the elevator. VIP shit.
My heart raced as the elevator reached the 29thfloor. I pulled out my THC vape and took a few puffs, trying to calm myself.
By the time the elevator opened into his foyer, I was high as hell and feeling like this was the first time I was meeting this man.
But I kept my cool.
And then he came strolling down the hallway looking like a damn thirst trap. Black Nike Tech sweats hanging low on his hips, bare chest out, tattoos on display, hair wet from the shower. His cologne smelled like money. Not regular money… billionaire money.
He took my hair bag gently from my hand and pulled me close. And out of habit, I wrapped my arms around him. We indulged in a passionate kiss. A kiss that should’ve never happened.
I pushed him off me quickly.
“We not doin’ that. We broke up, remember? After this, you gotta find another barber.”
“I already got one in rotation, but listen to me… This shit I got going on is more complicated than you think,” he said softly. “And I want you to be the first one to know what’s about to happen.”
“Well… I’m here to listen.”
He walked me to the dining area, and I started setting up my clippers, my guards, my cape, everything.
He dragged a chair out and sat, legs spread.
“You good?” he asked as I started cutting the back of his neck.
“No,” I answered honestly. “But go ahead.”
He looked down at his hands and rubbed his palms together as if warming them.
“My grandfather thinks I can’t handle myself,” he started, voice low. “He thinks I’m sloppy. And because of those fights y’all got into, now he’s gotta save face for the family. He thinks the Delacroix name is losing its shine.”
I blinked at him. “So what’s that gotta do with you?”
“Everything.” He exhaled.
“Now I gotta go into some arranged marriage shit to make the family look good again. Tie my bloodline to another mafia family. Some old, tired tradition they swear is gonna protect our legacy.”
I stopped clipping and stepped around him, staring.
“What?”
“I don’t know who it is yet. Some princess, some heir. They pick her, not me.”
