“Who’s this bitch, Righteous?” The woman snarls.
My neck snaps back, and I lighten my grip on Righteous’s hand and get ready to reply before Righteous squeezes my hand.
“Someone your pussy could never hold a candle to. Move the fuck around, house mouse,” Righteous says, which sounds like a harder growl than the one he used with the unknown man outside.
Righteous doesn’t offer further discussion before he moves us around the woman whose eyes penetrate me with enough venom to stop my heart.
“I will never let you shift your crown with an irrelevant mothafucka who can’t make me change my mind about you.”
My heart leaps, and my chest warms with the words Righteous speaks despite the hardness of his tone.
“But hold on because the freight train is coming,” Righteous tells me, and I’m unable to process the statement before four men come from the left and right of us.
Unlike the hostile man at the door, I’m unable to decipher what they might be thinking. All of their expressions are void of emotion, which makes me bite my inner cheek. I can’t determine if they’re friend or foe which spikes my blood pressure.
“Well, if it ain’t the princess of the city?” a man who appears to be an inch taller than Righteous asks as he attempts to bow.
My eyes balloon, and heat fills my neck from the action, as his words feel like a sharp blade laced with sarcasm. On the left side of his vest is the name Diesel, and on the right side is the word President.
“Easy, Pres,” Righteous barks in a tone that brokers no argument or negotiation.
“I see you’re a hardheaded mothafucka,” another man says.
Although he’s bald, some similarities between him and Righteous make me wonder if they’re related.
“Takes one to know one, bitch.” Righteous grunts.
I release Righteous’s hand and take a step forward to put an end to whatever debate is about to take place.
“First of all, I’m nobody’s shrinking violet. Nor am I remotely close to a princess. Yes, I am the mayor's daughter. However, I’m not her. My name is Jariyah. If you take a second to get to know me, I guarantee you’ll find something you like about me,” I say and extend my hand out for a handshake.
“Oh shit! You’re alright with me, Ms. Jariyah.” Another man laughs before he steps forward and moves to place his hand in mine.
According to his vest, his name is Shadow, with 'enforcer' on the right side. I move to connect hands with Shadow before my body jerks slightly. Righteous pulls me against his chest as his arm rests over my waist. “Look but don’t touch.”
“I swear you and your cousin need to learn some damn manners. How y’all parents so sanctified, and the anointing skipped y’all’s generation? I was only being hospitable.” Shadow grumbles with a smirk before he takes a step back.
I look to Righteous as my forehead wrinkles and my eyes ask the inquiry that falls from my lips.
“Who’s your cousin?”
“I am. Name’s Deacon, sweetheart,” the bald-headed man tells me before he pulls me from Righteous and hugs me. Air hits my ear when he leans down to whisper, “I have a feeling that I needed to properly welcome you to both families. Do your best to keep that nigga on his toes.”
A growl sounds behind me deep enough to cause a shiver of something other than panic to surge through my body. I don’t have time to react or register the words from Deacon before my body is in motion again, and both of Righteous’s arms are around my waist in a bear grip.
“Hug your own woman, nigga.” Righteous grunts.
A giggle escapes my mouth from the territorial dominance that rings out in Righteous’s tone.
“Let’s get back to the matter at hand. You’re welcome here as long as your presence doesn’t bring any heat to our doorstep,” Diesel says in a deadpan timbre.
“I understand,” I whisper.
“You better, because the minute shit gets hot, I’ll bounce your ass out of here even if it means fighting this nigga to do so,” another man whose vest reveals Gunz tells me.
The icy glare that peers into me causes my blood to chill as I try to mold my body with Righteous’s chest. Not only is there promise in his threat, but also indifference toward whatever outcomes result. All I can do is nod and silently pray that Mom doesn’t find out about my connection with this group of men.
“I see that there are also women club members. What are their roles in the club?” Jariyah’s eyes bounce from Trixx to Dimples, who are laughing at whatever Boston says.
