Page 79 of A Don & His Doll

“A’ight, ma, that’s how yo’ freaky ass got that one,” Syncere said, pointing at her belly with a contagious smirk on his face.

Truth stood tall in the middle of the living room, and raised his drink to catch everyone’s attention. “Let’s have a toast for my brother from another mother. Before the night is over, I want you to know I’m proud of you. We been boys since the sandbox. I wish you nothin’ but the best on your new journey. I’m out of state now, but you already know I’m just one phone call away. I love you, bro.”

Syncere nodded and lifted his drink.

“To new beginnings!” Truth stated with his glass raised high.

The drinks were flowing, and the night was getting better and better. Promise managed to escape from Roe’s magnetic pull for the moment, and switched the music to Young Dolph’s RNB. Syncere and Truth both chimed in with excitement as they rapped along to the lyrics, the vibe turning up a notch.

“Drive my Lambo like a Chevy on some rich nigga shit…”

“Hell yea,” Syn and Truth said at the same time.

Everyone was on their feet vibing to the music, drinking, and having a good time. Syn chimed in, rapping along with Young Dolph.

You can't talk to my girl, she a rich nigga bitch. Told the teacher I was gon' be on the rich nigga list Black ass nigga, quarter mil' on his wrist.

The girls took over the dance floor, twerking and vibing to Megan Thee Stallion’s part. Promise was in her element, her hips twirling, and Syncere could see Roe watching her closely, his eyes filled with interest.

Please don't wish me well if you used to give me hell. Niggas spend they last to fake it when it's free to be real. Please don't come and tell me 'bout no story that you heard. This is not Sesame Street. I don’t kick it with no birds.

Promise screamed the lyrics out loud, bending over, twirling her hips in a circle, and twerking. Syn and Truth joined in, dancing with Amor and Rae. Roe, on the other hand, posted up, bobbing his head, while kissing every inch of Promise’s body with his eyes. Meanwhile, Havoc was barely standing up straight, doing hand movements and rapping out loud. That nigga was faded, and about to fall over at any given second.

Ms. Moore’s voice broke through the noise as she sipped her margarita. “What y’all know about this?” She joked, joining in on the fun.

“Mami, what you know about this?” Amor teased, dancing over to her mother, hitting the Milly Rock smooth as ever.

“Chica, please. This my jam!”

Ms. Moore stood up, showing off her dance moves as everyone cheered. The night couldn’t get any better. Life was good. Everyone laughed as they got into a dance battle, that is until Mr. Miller started dancing with Mrs. Moore. The night was filled with surprises, and continued to get better and better the later it got. Life was good.

Sitting comfortably inside the window nook of her bedroom, Macie sipped her signature mix of Jameson and ginger ale while overlooking the city she'd once believed she owned. She loathed being regular because for years, not only had she thrived in leadership; she walked in power, and had earned the respect of both men and women all over the world. Power had never been something she'd borrowed. She'd built it. Protected it. Weaponized it. Now, for the first time in decades, she found herself on the outside looking in, and reduced to a new normal that was so foreign it disrupted her peace. As she gazed out of her window, countless scenarios flooded her mind, but she didn’t need another bright idea. She needed a flawless strategy to execute before she ran out of time. One that would make her enemies destroy themselves before they ever realized she'd lit the match.

The Great Divide & Conquer techniques that her late husband had instilled in her before he transitioned came to mind when suddenly she figured out her next move. The Chicago connect instantly came to mind since it was a new partnership The Black Family Empire had made to expand business-wise. Up until this point. Mitch and Monroe had been under the impression that their research had landed them the opportunity to expand, when really it was because Macie had popped her pussy for Samson, the CEO of Session 44. It was a well-known organization that was similar to The Black Family. She had also done Samson a huge favor about eight years prior, by giving him some information he needed that ended up saving his daughter from being sex trafficked. Attraction had opened the door. Gratitude had locked it. Samson owed her, and tonight she intended to collect. Time to cash in on that favor, she thought, grabbing the burner phone that sat beside her.

“Macie Black,” Samson greeted by the third ring. “Long time no hear.”

Macie smiled. “You’re right. Perhaps we need to double back soon?” She shot back.

“You know I can make it happen. Just say the word, and it’s done,” Samson said, remembering that good snatch Macie was walking around with. “What’s on yo’ mind though?”

“It’s trouble in paradise, and I need a favor,” Macie got straight to it.

Samson listened, but didn’t respond.

"I need you to create a problem,” Macie paused for a beat. “I need you to back out of the partnership with The Black Family until further notice, business has shifted.

“Walk away?” Samson quizzed.

“Not completely…Just enough to make Mitch question it,” she clarified.

“Macie, you’re not making sense. What the hell you got goin’ on?” Samson was losing patience.

"I need you to delay your responses. Push back the meeting that’s coming up next month. Make him question whether Chicago is really committed. Tell him your people been hearing things, and money ain't moving the way you thought it would. I don't really give a damn what you tell him, just make him believe something inside that partnership ain't right." Macie concluded.

Samson leaned back in his chair. "That's a dangerous game."

"Don’t overthink it," Macie dismissed.