Chapter Eight. Asad
CHAPTER EIGHT
Asad
Xavier. Deacon.
Gotdamn.
I grip the sides of the bathroom sink and bow my head, forehead almost pressed against the cool glass of the mirror.
I’m not even gon’ lie. This one fucks me up.
I’ve known those two since Michelle first brought me and Kareem into Marcus’s house.
When Marcus started introducing me to the House of Cross business and then the underworld side when I turned eighteen, they became like honorary uncles to me.
They’d taught me the rules and ropes of this game as much, if not more, than Marcus.
My stepfather was savvy and knowledgeable in the boardroom, but in the streets?
Xavier and Deacon dirtied the hands Marcus insisted on keeping clean and callus-free.
I respected them for that. Admired them for that.
When I imagined stepping into my rule over this organization, that vision included them by my side along with Eli and Kareem.
Now what? How deep did this go? Were they working on their own, or did they have an army behind them? Did they object to just me, or was this plan in process against Marcus, too? Were they responsible for Marcus’s murder and now making sure all obstacles were out the way?
Shit. Just … shit.
Running a hand over my braids, I shake my head.
I never saw this betrayal coming.
Keeping it a hundred, I would’ve foreseen my mother coming for my neck before they did.
I exhale, the long, hard breath fogging the glass.
It hadn’t even been four whole days that I’d been in control of this shit and already I had a fucking conspiracy and uprising.
I chuckle. Good thing I didn’t give a fuck about burning this shit all the way to the ground and starting all over if that’s what needed to be done.
Yeah, I did everything in my power to end up here, at the top, but none of this shit owns me.
I’d salt the gotdamn ground to make sure nothing grew and move the fuck on to grow what I wanted before letting any muthafuckas play on my top.
That’s what my little demonstration was about tonight.
A message to not just my allies but to my own street bosses and soldiers.
I was loyal to those who were loyal to me.
But cross me? Cross me and the T-shirt business will be extra busy for you and your loved ones.
I’ll wipe out your whole bloodline, fucking around with me.
As Carter found out tonight.
The corner of my mouth curls into a faint half smile.
Carter damn sure fucked around and found out tonight.
As did I and everyone else in that room.
I don’t need to close my eyes for an image of Ember holding that blowtorch to materialize in vivid HD. That had been … unexpected.
And hot as fuck.
Not just her using that torch on Carter without flinching or without hesitation.
Nah.
The sexiest thing had been that sheen of excitement, of lust, in her eyes.
I’ve known Ember was dangerous. Known what she was capable of. But fuck.
Seeing her hard nipples and those muthafuckin’ rings press against that jacket at the sound of Carter’s screams had my dick bricking up.
And I wanted to shove her down to the floor on her hands and knees in his blood, cuff the front of her neck, and beat her pussy up until it molded to my dick.
Have her cry out my name as I spelled it out in that tight-as-fuck hole.
Have her pussy shiver and weep until we were both coated in cum and the blood I spilled.
Something tells me, Ember wouldn’t have minded a little blood either.
It’s me she would object to.
My jaw clenches as I twist the faucet and let the water run.
Even as I strip out of my dress shirt that has flecks of blood splattered on it, I try to douse the anger simmering inside me.
That anger that has been set on you-about-to-see-the-other-side-of-me for most of the evening.
For years, Michelle has taunted Kareem for having a soft spot for Ember, but tonight he seemed to be pushing up on her extra hard.
And I love my brother, but every time he stepped too close to her, smiled at her, touched her, I was visually measuring his suit for a burial plot.
I loose a soft chuckle, but ain’t shit funny. Kareem didn’t know Ember and I were engaged, but shit, she did. And I can’t even count how many times I wanted to snatch her little ass up for giving him what she refused me. Conversation. A smile. Softness. Only our guests kept me from nutting up.
Grabbing a washcloth, I run it under the water with soap and quickly clean up.
This isn’t my main residence, but I keep some clothes here.
Before coming into the study, I’d stopped by the master bedroom and grabbed a replacement shirt.
Once I finish washing off, I slip into the garment.
Dressed again, I turn off the light and exit, prepared to return to the dinner party and my guests.
And to hunt down Ember. It’s been about twenty minutes since she left the room.
Now that I’ve announced who she is to me and our engagement, I’m not letting her far from my sight for long.
Mine.
As I reach for the knob, it twists, and the door opens.
I step back in time to avoid being hit, and Aryn enters.
She closes the door behind her and irritation pricks at me.
From the first time I saw her tonight, I’d had to stop myself from grabbing her by the back of her neck like the little bitch she is, dragging her from my house, and putting her outside.
She’s fucking lucky some of my guests had already arrived and I cared more about not causing a spectacle and managing Michelle in front of them.
I didn’t want to gift wrap the heads of the families and their wives something to talk about other than what I planned for the evening.
Otherwise, her humiliation would’ve been on her since I didn’t invite her here tonight. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.
“What do you want, Aryn?” I ask, not hiding my impatience. “I have guests to return to.”
“How could you treat me like this, Prince?” she snaps, planting fists on her hips.
Her beautiful face twists as if any moment tears are about to spill and screams will tumble out of her mouth.
Her long hair falls about her face, over her shoulders, strands clinging to her cheek.
“How could you humiliate me by announcing an engagement when I was sitting there right next to you?”
“Check it.” I angle my head, sliding my hands in the front pockets of my slacks. “Did I ask you to be here tonight?”
Her mouth twists and she flicks her fingers, rolling her eyes. “Your mother reached out and invited me.”
“Yeah, keep rolling those eyes at me and watch me snatch them bitches out your head. But I repeat, did I ask you to be here tonight?”
She’s quiet for several seconds and looks everywhere but at me. “No,” she quietly says.
“Nah, baby girl. Say that shit with the same energy you walked in here with.”
“No,” she repeats louder, glaring at me.
“Exactly. I didn’t invite you to shit. My mother doesn’t and never will speak for me.
And I’m not even sure why you’re here, Aryn.
We don’t even rock like that. We fuck. You suck me off.
I don’t even put my mouth on you. Occasionally, I’ll escort you to an event, and rarely, I’ll take you to one of mine.
But I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve been to your place since we meet at hotels to bust a nut.
You’ve never been to where I lay my head. What does that tell you?”
“Whatever, Prince. I’ve never seen you out with any other woman. My name is the only one that’s connected to yours. And yours has been the only connected to mine. That means something, and you can’t play me now by telling me it doesn’t.”
I shrug. “Yeah, it does mean something.” She starts to smile. “It means you’re good at keeping your other fucks on the down low, just like I am.” That smile freezes before disappearing. “C’mon, Aryn. You know what it was between us. Don’t try and make it out to be more than it was.”
“Was?” She stalks closer, and her sultry, earthy perfume reaches me first. Most men find it alluring.
I always make her shower the shit off before we fuck because it messes with my allergies.
If she were my woman, I’m certain she’d notice that quirk.
“What it was, Prince? Are you really ending what we have for that, that fat bitch in there?” she damn near screams.
I laugh, and my palm is itching with the urge to choke the shit out of her.
“Why the first thing you insecure bitches always go for is the appearances of other women you feel threatened by?”
Aryn’s chin jerks back, and she blinks as if appalled. “Insecure? She is not me, and I’ve never been threatened by another woman in my life, especially not that one.” She jabs a finger toward the door.
“Yeah, you are.” I smile, and she flinches.
“A woman confident in her own appeal and worth wouldn’t have to tear down another sista to make herself appear more valuable in the eyes of another person.
A secure woman understands that her value isn’t tied to her tits, ass, or pussy but the inestimable shit that can’t be bought—ambition, drive, courage, perseverance.
A secure woman would tell a man like me to get the fuck on and flipped that whole muthafuckin table on her way out if I passed her up for someone else.
Because she’d understand she was the muthafuckin prize, not me.
And Aryn”—I pinch her chin hard enough for her to wince—“you say that fat shit like it’s an insult.
Shiiiit, Ember got grown-woman curves. She thick as fuck, and best believe every man in that room tonight wanted her ass. Literally. But that’s mine.”