Only if You Catch Me

Chapter 1

Persia

Briefly, my eyes closed as the cool beverage I’d just sipped made its’ way down my throat.

Fall was right around the corner. Literally days away, but the sun was blazing, and I was hot.

Alcohol probably wasn’t helping with that, but the ice in the drink cooled it down enough that it was bringing just as much pleasure as it might bring discomfort.

Generally, the sun and alcohol didn’t mix for me, but it was a celebration.

The host of the pool party was celebrating the end of summer.

I on the other hand was celebrating closing on the most expensive house I’d ever sold in my four years as a real estate broker.

I bent over slightly and threw my ample ass in a circle while my best friends, Bev, and Alicia cheered me on.

Persia at work and Persia with her friends were two different Persia’s.

One of my favorite things about being a broker, aside from being my own boss was dressing the part.

Any time I met with a client, I was dressed to impress and on point from head to toe.

My closet was filled with clothes that made me feel like ‘that bitch’ every time I stepped out of the house.

Of course, being professional was about way more than playing dress up, but I never went a full workday without being complimented on my outfit or shoes by at least one person.

From clients to gas station workers, or people I passed on the street.

It was always nice to hear compliments on how I put that shit on.

In business, I was always professional, courteous, and accommodating.

However, with my friends, I could turn up with the best of them.

Everyone had two sides, but that cutesy, demure bullshit was instilled in me by my mother.

She constantly drilled into my head that no man worth having wanted a loud, ignorant, ghetto, uncouth, foul-mouthed female.

My mother wanted me to find a successful man and get married more than she wanted anything else for me.

My career as a broker didn’t even impress her.

All she cared about was running game, running pockets, and being set for life off another man’s hard work.

Funny thing was, for all the game and lessons she had for me and my sister, her ass was single.

Go figure. She was with me and my sister, Tina’s father for ten years before he left her for a white woman.

I was eight, and Tina was three. She had one boyfriend since then and after two years, she found out he was married.

Her track record with men was trash. She thought she hit the jackpot because my father was an engineer.

When he left, he paid my mother’s rent, covered health insurance for me and my sister, and he bought our clothes, shoes, and food, up until we were eighteen, but he damn sure didn’t leave us set for life.

I’d never say my mother was wrong for being upset or even bitter, but the way she drilled into me and Tina’s heads not to love a man more than he loved us, to never date a broke man, to never trust a man, etc.

it was all too much for kids. I did what she wanted me to do, however.

At the age of twenty-four, I landed a big fish.

David was a hustler that distributed guns all throughout North and South Carolina, Chicago, New York, and a few other places.

He was five years older than me, and when we met, he pursued me relentlessly.

It wasn’t love at first sight, and I wasn’t head over heels in love with David, but he was everything my mother told me he should be.

He was financially comfortable, and he had that old school mindset that the man paid for everything.

After seven months of dating, he proposed to me with a two-carat diamond ring, and he started the process of having our home built.

After being engaged for nine months, we got married in a lavish ceremony that ran David $74,000.

We had been together for six years, and with each passing year, I waited for the day that I would look into David’s eyes, and my knees would buckle, or my heart would flutter.

I loved him. We had a nice situation going on, but was I crazy about him?

Did I want to live in his skin? Absolutely not.

Our situation worked, and it was cool for the most part, but a whirlwind, fairytale romance it was not.

On a scale of one to ten, in the looks department, David was a seven, and that was fine.

Every man wasn’t going to be Damson Idris or Dave East. Hell, I was no Lauren London but at 5’1 with thick thighs, child- bearing hips, copper skin tone, lush lips, oval face, and cat like eyes, I turned heads often.

David was a little shorter than I preferred my men, but it wasn’t too bad.

He stood 5’10 with that lil’ belly that was a tell-tale sign of the fact that he ate good every day.

He had light skin and grey eyes. I got so sick of people telling us what gorgeous kids we would have.

I needed more than the possibility of having kids with grey eyes to make me want to push out some babies.

“The king of the city just pulled up,” my best friend, Bev announced staring straight ahead.

I followed her gaze to see a white Genesis pulling up to the valet stand followed by a black Maybach, along with a grey BMW.

Kastian Miller had to be in one of those cars because he was the only person I’d ever heard referred to as the king of the city.

Which was a term that I hated. In my opinion, it was some cliché dick riding bullshit.

There was no king of the city. Kastian was fine, and he was rich.

He was also respected by many and could even be described as powerful but still, he wasn’t king of anything except maybe his castle.

All eyes in the party were locked on the luxury cars that had just arrived.

Sure enough, Kastian’s 6’5 frame emerged from the Genesis, and his tattooed muscles were on full display along with his inked up chest, and eight pack.

Kastian was bare chested with a shirt tossed over his broad shoulders.

Camo print cargo shorts sagged just enough off his waist for his Versace boxer briefs to be exposed.

I guess one could say, Kastian had the same double personality as me because in the photos I’d seen of him on his real estate firm’s social media pages, he donned a suit perfectly tailored to fit his frame in every one of them.

While Kastian was known for owning one of the most prestigious real estate firms in the city, he was known more for being a notorious drug lord who ran a well-organized crime organization that sold heroin and methamphetamine.

I’d personally seen photos of Kastian shaking hands with everyone from politicians to police officers.

His cover was a good one. Along with his real estate firm, he also owned a brokerage firm.

Kastian was young, black, and filthy fuckin’ rich.

Maybe it made sense to some that if anyone was going to make claims of being the king of the city, he would be the perfect fit.

His deep brown skin glistened in the sunlight, and his chiseled jawline made him look extra masculine and sexy.

The full thick beard that extended from his face gave him a slightly rugged vibe that made my clit swell.

Since my ogling Kastian was causing inappropriate reactions within me, I tore my gaze away from him.

Kastian was hands down one of the finest black men I’d ever seen in person, and I was sure majority of the other females at the party shared that same sentiment.

“There goes my boo, Ryder,” Alicia’s sister, Kiana, stated as she ran her fingers through her bone-straight weave. “One of y’all walk with me over there.” Her head turned in our direction. “Come on, Persia, Bev, Alicia?”

My brows hiked. Married or not, I’d never be on groupie shit with any man, but I was a married woman. I didn’t need it getting back to David that I was seen up in the faces of Kastian and his crew. “You said one of us go with you. All three of us isn’t necessary.”

“You don’t have to say anything to any of them,” Bev urged. She was obviously itching to be up close and personal with the crew of five. I only knew that Ryder was Kastian’s lieutenant. I had no clue who the other guys were.

I wasn’t sure why Bev, Alicia and Kiana couldn’t go over to Ryder and his friends without me, but they were all peering at me with puppy dog eyes.

With a kiss of my teeth, I fell in line behind them.

The rock on my finger was a clear indicator that I was taken.

I wouldn’t say anything to give any of them the wrong impression and hopefully, things would go smoothly.

As we got closer to the group of men, Ryder grinned.

“What up Ki?” His eyes poured over each one of us. “Whole crew fine.”

I didn’t even have to look over at her to know that she was more than likely grinning from ear to ear. “Hey,” she responded as we came to a stop. “These are my friends, Bev, Alicia, and Persia.” She pointed at each of us.

I gave them all a subtle nod, and I peeped Kastian’s gaze lingering on my ring. “That’s a nice ass rock.” His compliment came out in the form of a sexy rumble, and I was perturbed that my ring hadn’t deterred him from talking to me. I was also perturbed that his voice made my yoni contract.

“Thank you.” I was polite enough, but I didn’t want any of my conversation to be mistaken for flirting, so I kept it short and sweet.