3. Kase Madoxx
Kase Madoxx
B usiness was boomin’ and I was eatin’ like a king.
One of my clubs catered to chaos, flashing lights, sweat in the air, DJ spinning until the walls shook.
That was Voltage . The other? All class and clout.
VIP only. Cigar smoke, high heels, private bottles, and million-dollar whispers.
That was Knight . My two worlds, both feedin’ my pockets and my ego.
As I sat on my office couch, Blyss went over my books with me.
She helped me with my accounting ‘cause she was good with numbers. I knew her nerdy ass was good for somethin’.
On top of that, she worked as a librarian and did accounting part-time.
The girl had brains, no doubt, so I made sure she helped me out a bit.
She was sittin’ across from me in my office, legs crossed, tote bag tucked under her chair, them big-ass glasses sittin’ on her nose like always.
Thick frames, bold as hell. That cardigan she had on was buttoned wrong, and every five seconds she kept pushin’ them glasses up like they were tryna escape.
Her whole vibe screamed organized chaos, but weirdly?
That shit worked on her. While she kept flippin’ through the books, eyes locked in like it was life or death, I strolled over to my mini bar and poured myself a scotch.
Ain’t need no ice when the liquor was this good.
I took a sip of the smooth liquor and went to plop down before speakin’.
“You ever thought about gettin’ smaller frames or some contacts?” I asked, voice low and dry.
She didn’t look up. “I tried contacts. Almost poked my eye out.”
I let out a short laugh. “Figures. You clumsy as hell. Always trippin’ over your own damn shadow.”
That made her glance up. Her mouth opened like she wanted to say somethin’ smart, then closed again. She never challenged me. Matter of fact, she never challenged nobody. Just took shit on the chin.
“Don’t take it personal,” I added with a smirk, my eyes dropping to the curve of her thighs under that skirt. “At least you don’t need to be attractive for coordination to be a human calculator.”
She raised a brow. “So… I’m useful but not cute?”
I grinned. “I ain’t say all that. I mean, you got a lil something under all that nerd shit. It's just… buried under cardigans and library hours.”
Her lips twisted like she didn’t know if she was flattered or offended. “Wow. Thank you… I guess.”
I took a slow sip of my scotch and tilted my head. “You always thank people after they insult you?”
She shrugged. “I’m just here to help with your books. Not flirt.”
I leaned forward, setting the glass down. “Who said I was flirtin’? I talk slick to everybody.”
She blushed and started flipping papers faster.
“You gettin’ nervous, Wheels?”
“No.”
“Lyin’ ass.”
“I’m not lying.”
I smiled, wide and slow. “That’s cute. You always this jumpy around men with money and tattoos, or just me?”
She went quiet again. Tried to pretend like the receipts suddenly got real interesting.
I let the silence stretch before adding, “Relax. If I was tryna smash, you’d already know.”
She looked up at me slow, like she was weighin’ whether to play along or run.
Her lips parted just a little, but no words came.
Just that wide-eyed stare behind them, thick-ass glasses.
And I stared right back. Not blinkin’. Not movin’.
Just takin’ her in. The way that skirt hugged her thighs.
How that one loose button teased a peek at skin she probably didn’t even mean to show.
My jaw flexed as she sat there fidgetin’ with the corner of a receipt, actin’ like she didn’t feel the weight of my eyes on her.
But she did. I could tell. Her breath hitched.
Her neck flushed. She kept her legs crossed, tighter now, like she was tryna block a thought before it reached her face.
And me? I didn’t say shit. I just watched her, too long, too hard, like I was tryna figure out why the hell I couldn’t look away.
It might’ve been the scotch talkin’, or maybe it was just the way her lips parted like they had questions they were too scared to ask, but I stood up anyway.
Moved toward her slow, like I was huntin’ without even meanin’ to.
Glass still in my hand. I stopped right in front of her, raised it to her mouth like I was offerin’ more than liquor.
She leaned back just a little, eyes locked on mine. “I don’t drink,” she said, her voice soft but sharp. “You know that.”
“Why not?” I asked, brow cocked. “What—you think I’m tryna slip somethin’ in it?”
She shook her head quickly. “No. I just think it’s stupid. Makes people say things they don’t mean… or worse, do things they don’t remember.”
I chuckled, low and deep. “Nah, see, liquor don’t lie. They say it makes a drunk man speak his truth.”
Her eyes narrowed behind them thick-ass glasses. “So, if you got me drunk, I’d start tellin’ my truth?”
I smirked, slow and cocky. “Maybe... or I might end up tellin’ you my deep, hidden truths.”
She hesitated, eyes still locked on mine. “What truth you want from me?”
I brought the glass back to my lips, then looked over the rim and said real calm, real low, “ Naw, I am asking the questions. What truth you wanna know about me?”
There was a pause in my chest, and I didn’t let it show. I said it like a joke, but it landed different and heavy. She tilted her head, and I could tell she was tryin’ to read past the grin.
“It’s a lot of things... but you probably couldn’t handle it,” she said, fiddlin’ with the edge of her skirt.
I let out a quiet laugh, rough at the edges. “Try me.”
She blinked fast, flustered again, like she wasn’t used to this version of me. Then she stood up too quick, damn near knockin’ the pen cup to the floor.
“Okay, I’m gonna go double-check these numbers,” she mumbled, already clutchin’ her tote like it was armor. “I’ll be right back.”
“Don’t forget to fix that button,” I called after her, eyes trailing the swing of her cardigan. “Lookin’ like you got dressed in the dark.”
She ain’t answer, but I heard her mumblin’ all the way down the hall. I leaned back, took another sip, and smiled. I had her flustered, and I liked it.
While she was gone, I scrolled through my phone.
I had notifications out the ass. Mostly old joints hittin’ me up, but Kay Kay’s name was poppin’ more than a few times.
She had been on my line heavy ever since I cut her off.
She was cool for a minute, freaky, fun, but she had a kid, and I wasn’t ‘bout to play stepdad just ‘cause we had a few wild nights. I hit her with a stop callin’ me text and kept it pushin’.
An hour later, Blyss came back in holdin’ my books tight like they were a damn baby. Walked straight over, set ‘em down, adjusted them glasses.
“They’re all done,” she said, voice soft but steady.
“Bet.” I leaned back, eyes skimming the stack. “You hungry or somethin’? I could throw you a plate or somethin’.”
She scoffed. “I didn’t come here to be fed. This was a favor. That’s it.”
I cocked my head and smirked. “A favor? Girl, you act like I ain’t doin’ you a favor lettin’ you sit in my office.”
“I didn’t ask to sit in your office,” she shot back, clingin’ to her tote like she was ready to bounce.
I nodded once. “Yeah… but you ain’t leave either, so it must be something here you like.” I held my hands out wide, allowing her to take it all in.
That made her eyes widen. And she got really quiet after that.
She turned toward the door without sayin’ another word, and I watched her walk, cardigan swingin’ behind her like it had a damn attitude.
Yeah, she was somethin’ else. Annoyin’ as hell sometimes, but smart, sweet, and got under my skin more than I liked to admit.
Before she could reach the door, there was a light knock followed by Porcha’s voice crackin’ through the intercom.
“Boss? Denise’s downstairs. You want me to let her up?”
I glanced at Blyss, still halfway to the door, and then back at the intercom button.
“Yeah, let her come up,” I said, casual, like it was nothin’. “Tell her the door is open.”
That made Blyss pause, only for a second. But I caught it.
Her fingers tightened around her tote, lips pressed tight.
She didn’t look at me, just gave a stiff nod and kept walkin’.
That quiet kind of hurt? It hit different.
But I didn’t let it show. Right as she grabbed the handle, Denise walked in like she owned the damn place, long weave, tight dress, heels too damn high for somethin’ that early in the day.
“Oh, you busy?” she asked, glancin’ at Blyss like she was the maid or somethin’.
“Nah,” I said, leanin’ back on the couch, cool as ever. “We done here.”
Blyss stiffened. Jaw clenched just enough for me to catch it.
She didn’t say nothin’, just nodded again, this time tighter, quieter. Clutchin’ her tote like it held whatever dignity she had left.
“You can show yourself out,” I added, still not lookin’ her way.
She blinked, once… twice. Like she wasn’t sure if I was serious or just that cold. Yet, I was both.
Denise laughed low and fake, already strutting over to kiss my cheek like she had a spot to reclaim. Blyss stepped out the room silently, but her shoulders squared before she closed the door. It was like she was holdin’ on to whatever pride I hadn’t already stomped on.
After Blyss left, I went to sit at my desk, leanin’ back like I owned the whole damn block, and Denise came around behind me, hands on my shoulders, like she was tryna remind me why she was still in the picture.
She started rubbin’ my back, leanin’ in close, perfume loud and sweet.
Talkin’ ‘bout a trip she wanted to take or some rooftop brunch she saw on Instagram. I let her talk. Let her touch. Didn’t say much.
While she played girlfriend, I stayed focused, checked my phone, sent a couple of messages, and lined up a bottle order for Knight.
Then I decided to give her some attention.
I turned slowly in the chair, eyes dragging over her like I was just now noticing she existed.
My hands slid to her hips, and I pulled her onto my lap.
“You still here?” I mumbled, lazy smirk curvin’ my lips.
She fake laughed, leaned in like I was the prize. “Don’t start.”
I didn’t. I just ran my hand down the back of her thigh, watching her squirm like that little touch meant something.
“I’m gonna give you the VIP suite for tonight,” I said, voice low. “You can wear that red thing, I like.”
That’s all it took. Her eyes lit up like Christmas.
Denise leaned closer, lips brushing my ear. “Well, if you gonna show me a good time later… let me show you one first.”
I tilted my head slightly, side-eyein’ her. “How you plan on doin’ that?”
“I got courtside tickets,” she said, grinning. “Warriors play tonight. Figured we could hit the game.”
I raised a brow, slow and amused. “You sure you want your husband to see us?”
She shrugged like it was nothin’. “We’re just friends.”
I smirked. That line was so damn tired, it barely made me blink. I didn’t give a fuck about her or her husband’s situation. I wasn’t about to turn down courtside seats, especially not when I had time to kill.
After headin’ home to get dressed, I slid into somethin’ fresh and met her outside the stadium. She was waitin’ near the entrance, heels on, face beat, grinnin’ like she already won. I kept it simple, black tee, chain tucked just enough, fresh kicks, and that usual, “I don’t chase nobody” energy.
We walked in together and took our seats just feet from the court.
The Indie Woods Warriors were already warmnin’ up, crowd buzzin’, lights bright as hell, camera flashes poppin’ off left and right.
She kept leanin’ into me, laughin’ at shit I didn’t say, tryna make it look like more than what it was.
But my mind? Still on business. Always was.
During the game, my phone buzzed in my pocket. Twice. Same name...Jace.
He ain’t usually blow me up unless somethin’ was urgent, so I pulled it out mid-play, thumb slid across the screen.
“Yo.”
His voice came in hot. “ What the fuck you do?”
I leaned back in my seat, glancin’ at Denise as she posed for a selfie with the court in the background. “What you talkin’ about?”
“You know exactly what I’m talkin’ about, nigga,” he snapped. “You really told Blyss to ‘show herself out’ in front of some chick like she was a damn assistant?”
I exhaled through my nose, unfazed. “She finished the job, didn’t she?”
“Nah. Don’t do that,” Jace fired back. “That girl be helpin’ you outta the kindness of her heart, and you clown her? In front of that bird? Man, that shit was foul.”
“Look,” I said, sittin’ forward with my elbows on my knees. “It ain’t that deep. Blyss ain’t soft. She’ll be aight.”
“You don’t know that,” Jace shot back. “She ain’t built for all that slick talk and brush-offs. That girl’s awkward as hell, but loyal. You know she like you, right? She don’t say much, but she do. And you embarrassed her.”
My jaw ticked, but I stayed quiet for a second. Denise leaned in to ask if I wanted a drink. I shook my head and waved her off without sayin’ a word.
“You done?” I muttered, my voice lower now.
“I should be askin’ you that,” Jace said. “But yeah. I’m done. You a grown man, you gon’ do what you want. Just don’t be surprised when she stop doin’ anything for you.”
The call clicked off before I could respond. I let the phone hang in my hand a second longer than necessary, thumb hoverin’ over the screen. Then I tucked it back in my pocket, leaned back in my seat, and refocused on the court like nothin’ happened.