Not My Type 2 (Not My Type #2)

Chapter 21 Demand

Demand

“This is just one of my mansions, my boy,” my uncle says, a grin curling around the cigarette in his mouth as the smoke coils upward.

I glance around the grand foyer. The house is massive.

A cathedral of wealth. Twin staircases curve like royalty down into a marble-floored expanse.

Light from an enormous crystal chandelier shimmers across the glossy tiles, and sunlight pours through a stained-glass dome above us, casting colors on the gleaming white walls.

“No joke… mi love the look,” I admit, nodding.

He chuckles, pleased. My uncle’s my father’s older brother, the only one who always showed up.

He was there when my father died, standing strong in the middle of our grief.

I never really knew what it meant to be broke, my father had always made sure of that.

But when he was gone, my uncle kept stepping in.

Whether it was to lend money or just be present. The same way Nature move.

He gave me business advice when I took over as a teenager.

Schooled me on moves, put me on game. Since then, every year, I throw a party for my father, honor his name and no matter what, my uncle shows up.

Rain, sun, or flight delays. He’s a real one.

And he’s one of the few genuine ones left in the family.

“Come along. We’ve got business to handle,” he says once he’s done giving me the tour.

We pause at the railing of the grand staircase, and he whistles for someone. A woman walks up. Moves like a helper but talks like she owns him.

“What can I get you, Orion?” she asks, hand brushing his shoulder. The way she calls him by name makes me pause.

Everybody knows you don’t just call a badman by his government name, unless you’re close. Real close.

Must be his woman. But she’s dressed like a maid.

A nuh my business that stillz…

“What do you want to drink, handsome?” she asks me, her Scottish accent curling the words.

“Henny,” I reply, watching her smile before she walks off, hips switching light.

Uncle pushes open a thick double door and nods me inside. “Welcome to my office,” he says, gesturing to the leather seats.

I sit. He does too, lounging deep, crossing his ankles, flicking ash into a crystal tray. “I’m proud of you, man. When I needed help, you stepped up. That showed me everything.”

“A the least mi can do, mi fadda,” I say.

He leans forward and shakes my hand firmly. “Any favor you ever need, don’t hesitate. I’m here.”

Then he props his feet on the desk and rolls up his sleeves. “But tonight, we toast. To the hotel launch being a success… and to the fact that my nephew is now officially my business partner.”

The door opens. She’s back with Hennessy and Belaire on the rocks. She places the drinks and sets down a vape and a fresh pack of cigarettes. I take the vape, uncle lights up. She pours for us in delicate wine glasses.

“Respect, muma,” I tell her.

She grins, fingers brushing over my uncle’s shoulder again. “If you need anything else, you know where to find me,” she says, then disappears.

We sip, vape, smoke then business begins. “Mi want transition the thing outta underground… polish it up fi the new year,” I say. “But mi cyah settle on the right idea.”

“You’ll figure it out,” he says between puffs. “Just let it simmer. If you need my help, you know I’m here.”

He sips his drink, eyes glinting. “I’m heading to Vegas soon. Got a few friends to check in with. You should roll with me before you go back to your wife.”

I laugh. “Funny thing is, she bout fi be man wife fi real. Officially a new member to the Jacobs Empire.”

His eyes widens, smiling in disbelief. “If you ever get my hopes up.”

“Mi engage now, man. Real thing, and mi know it sound wild, but she deserve it.”

He raises a brow. “Jah… What? Mari?” he chuckles. “Next week when I come down, I want a dinner. I need to meet this woman.”

“No problem,” I tell him. Then I pause. “She’s pregnant too.”

His eyes widen. “Fi you?”

“Yah.”

“Damn.” He leans back, smoke circling. “Who is she?”

Everybody weh know yuh a dem in a denial the most.

I start vaping again, hiding my grin.

“You really out here engaged and expecting?” he laughs. “Mi affi meet har.”

“When you fawud a yaad, you’ll meet her mon.”

He’s still smiling. “Mi proud a yuh, mi bwoy. Owayne would be proud too. The change in you… it’s real. And it’s good.”

I nod, staring into my glass. “What kinda baby unuh having?” he asks.

“We nuh know yet,” I say.

“You want a bwoy?”

“Yah… yuh know the vibe.”

He chuckles. “Mi want you get a daughter.” I raise a brow. “Not that a son wouldn’t change yuh, but a daughter?” He smiles. “That soften yuh in a different way.”

I shake my head. “Zara want a daughter too. But mi still hope fi a son.”

He finishes his drink. “Let’s make a bet.”

I squint at him. “Wah dis now?”

“If it’s a boy, I buy you a Bentley. But if it’s a girl… you get me a Rolls Royce.”

I burst out laughing. “Yuh serious?”

“Dead serious. Been a while since mi bet.”

I sit forward, still chuckling. “So wait… Bentley if it’s a boy. Ghost if it’s a girl?”

“Bet?”

“Bet.”

ZARA

I roll over and glance at the clock on my nightstand, it’s 6:00 a.m. sharp.

“Good morning, Zara,” Mama says gently, standing at the door with a steaming cup of tea in her hand.

She’s already dressed, eyes warm and knowing.

I stretch beneath the covers, her voice pulling me straight back to childhood.

She used to wake me even earlier back then 5 a.m and the memory still wraps itself around mornings like this.

I slide off the bed with a sleepy smile. “Morning, Mama.”

She sips her tea. “How you feeling?”

“A little hit of nostalgia, but I’m good,” I say, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

After cleaning my room, FaceTiming Nickoi, and catching up on a little chit-chat with Mama, we end up eating breakfast together in the living room.

She made fried dumplings and ackee with fresh orange juice.

While we eat, she shares story times about her pregnancy with my mother and Uncle Rohan.

Some funny, some heartwarming. I laugh so much, my cheeks hurt.

Later in the afternoon, I’m curled up on the couch watching a rom-com when Zanne calls.

Her friend is throwing a party and she wants me to come through.

It doesn’t sound like a bad idea, but lately I’ve been exhausted, the kind of exhaustion that no nap can fix.

Still, she insists. I dodge a few times with excuses until I finally cave in and say yes.

Now it’s five o’clock, and Mama is still trying to talk me out of going. It’s honestly adorable how protective she is. That same fierce love is why she went off on Nickoi when she found out I was pregnant. I know it came from a good place. She just didn’t want anyone hurting me.

Mama love yuh.

She appears in the doorway again, this time with a small plate of sliced fruits. “Eat dis,” she says, handing it over.

I smile. “Thanks, Mama.” She never stops feeding me. Every hour on the hour.

But I’m not complaining.

“Remember seh yuh pregnant, and you alone a drive. So nuh wait too late fi come home, yuh hear?” she warns, her voice soft but firm.

I nod. “Mi nah stay long. We heading out now and mi a come back by seven,” I reassure her.

She sighs, sitting on the edge of the bed as I pop a piece of pineapple in my mouth. “Mi nuh know what Suzanne call you out your yard for enuh,” she mutters under her breath, just loud enough for me to hear.

I chuckle and start spritzing my favorite perfume,Yara.

Sweet, fruity, warm and not doing too much.

I’m giving Chanel a break tonight. “I’ll be fine, Mama.

Zanne’s not reckless. My only problem is that this baby keeps me so sleepy, she probably won’t enjoy herself when her plus-one nod off mid-party. ”

Mama eyes me. “You better not sleep while you a drive.”

That makes me laugh. “No man, mi definitely staying awake when mi a drive.”

I pick up my purse and kiss her cheek. “Love you, Mama.”

She nods, eyes soft. “Love you more. Tek care mi gyal.”

As I walk out and get into the car, I smile. In a world that can be cold and selfish, it feels good to know I have people who love me so deeply.

Hey mi love yuh too, my subconscious pipes up.

As you should. Self-love stays mandatory.

“Mi soon come back,” I say to Mama before calling Suzanne.

“Zara, you lef out yet?” she shouts over loud music.

“You reach already?”

“Yes! Mi call you couple times—”

“Eeeh? Mi never hear the calls.”

Muss when you a bathe.

“Mi send you the location,” she says. I nod and hang up.

It only takes about fifteen minutes to get there. Once I park, I call her and she meets me outside, grinning. “Yes, the nice gyal reach,” she teases.

I step out of the car. I’m wearing a white strapless ruched mini-dress that hugs every curve. My bump is subtle, but my glow? Unmatched. I pair it with my bridgets, a blush-pink mini bag, and light makeup. Hair in a center part, soft natural curls down my back. My skin’s dewy, lips glossed.

We head upstairs, and I can already tell the vibe is different.

The men near the entrance move like they’re not just here to party.

Their posture, the way they scan the space, yeah.

Bad man. Reminds me of Nickoi’s crew from the underground.

When we reach the rooftop, people are already floating even though the event just started and it’s not quite dark yet.

I glance at my wrist, checking the time on my Patek Philippe.

That’s when I notice a man watching me, eyes wide with surprise. I look away immediately.

“It’s just 6:30,” I mutter, brushing it off. But something tells me… this night about to unfold in ways I didn’t expect.

The party is in full swing, blue and violet hues bathing the marble, basslines rolling underfoot, and the air thick with smoke and sweat.

I’m perched on the edge of a cream lounge seat beside Suzanne and her friend Cas, trying to stay invisible.

The ice in my cranberry juice melts slow, glass sweating in my hand.

My Patek Philippe catches the light making me regret wearing it.

Suzanne and Cas clink glasses again, Henny and wine.

Me? No thanks. Cranberry is all fine for me. This baby already mek mi sleepy.

Then Suzanne stills. “Wait… A Lennox that?” she mutters.

Cas leans forward. “The one dem seh always a pree the block. Golf man dem.”

Suzanne nudges my side, whispering . “Zara, nuh mek him know say yuh deh wid Nickoi. Please.”

I don’t even get to ask why before I feel it. Heat on my skin. Eyes on my body.

So a this a the reason why she look weh? Why she scare me and just expect me fi know how fi behave?

“Muma.” I look up.

He’s standing three feet away. Hoodie shadowing his face. Grey True Religion, jeans low, Clarks clean like dem fresh outta box. He doesn’t smile. Just stares, long and lazy, like I’m already his. Ew.

“Mi can talk to you, muma?” he says and my heart dips. Mi nuh wah talk to you sir.

“Why?” I ask flatly. He smirks and puts a liquor on my Cabanna. Fi come kill off mi baby?

“So mi cya talk to yuh?”

“Talk to me right here so,” I say, tone even.

He sighs like I’m difficult, steps closer, and leans down to my ear. I don’t move. Don’t flinch. But my skin crawls. “Mi aguh want you,” he murmurs.

It don’t sound like desire. He whispers and I don’t know why but it isn’t pleasing to the ears like it is when Nickoi says it. Cause Nickoi a just the man!

“I… have someone.”

His breath brushes my neck. “Mi nuh care. Call him. Tell him Lennox want yuh.” I sit perfectly still. “Muma?” I roll my eyes. Reflex. He sees it. His face hardens.

“Weh the attitude fa?” His voice sharpens.

“Sir, leave me alone nuh.” It comes out too sharp.

Regret licks my spine before the words finish leaving my mouth. He steps forward, eyes flashing. “A who yuh a deal wid so gyal?”

Suzanne snaps. “Nuh talk to har so—” He cuts her off with a backhand push that rocks her sideways into Cas.

Suzanne’s wine glass shatters. Cas screams. Then he grabs my throat. Just like that. His fingers clamp down, firm but not tight enough to choke, tight enough to warn. My breath catches. The rooftop shrinks. The music fades.

“When mi say fi tell you man say Lennox a go wah yuh a time mi a gi yuh fi dweet cause yuh nah leff yasso without mi know say mi a go have yuh.”

His boys start sliding closer. Quiet. Like sharks circling. Suzanne’s scrambling for her phone, hands shaking so bad she drops it twice. Cas is frozen, standing. I’m still in the chair. Frozen too.

“Tek yuh hand off a har,” Zanne tries again.

Ask mi if mi nuh fraid nuh because him talk like a Don too.

The fact that Suzanne is afraid to tell who my boyfriend is already tells me the danger we’re in. I didn’t have to ask her I know for sure that this guy was one of Nickoi’s enemies. Maybe it’s for the best I play this off cool without mentioning him.

She’s on her phone.

“You call him yet?” Lennox asks again. Is he serious?

One of his boys steps behind me, low voice. The friend that was watching me earlier chuckles. “She fraid fi call eh rich man,” he says with his eyes on my watch.

Him look like a thief.

“Pree har watch nuh,” he says bringing attention to my watch and I move my hand to my side.

“We nah rob yuh,” Lennox says.

“Wi nuh rob pretty girl,” the friend assures me.

“A which politician woman this?” One of them asks Suzanne and she glares at him.

“Just leave the girl alone,” she fires at him.

I stand to my feet but their boss steps in front of me and grab my wrists. My whole body trembling. The entire rooftop seems to tilt, like we’re standing on the edge of something dangerous and no one can stop the fall.

“Wah mi seh you nah move from yasso!” he sounds exactly how he looks. “So siddung.” He demands and I sit.