Chapter 2
“Trials and tribulations are a burden but it’s part of the game, yes.”
FREQUENCY ROTH
One year later…
I hadn’t met sleep for the last forty-eight hours.
After touching back down by plane in my city, it felt good to be back on home soil.
Sitting back in the Maybach that drove me through the hills of Edgerton Falls, Virginia, I scrolled through my call log until I came across the number I needed.
There was nothing but fall trees surrounding me.
Bright-red and orange leaves gave it a picturesque feel, right out of a canvas painting or some shit.
I had been in the Cayman Islands for the last two weeks trying to get a few things in order with my finances.
The atmosphere of home was just something that couldn’t be duplicated, and I was glad to be back.
“What is it?” Lyra’s sharp tone picked up the phone, and she huffed.
“Check ya tone, ma, before I snatch your tongue out ya mouth when I see you,” I barked, although that attitude in her voice had a nigga bricking up in my Armani slacks.
“What do you want? I’m busy,” she said.
“A’ight, bet that. I’ll find another bitch to help then.” I hung up.
I didn’t have time for that shit right now.
My business trip wasn’t as successful as I wanted it to be.
My connects weren’t able to wash my money the way that I needed them to, so I was going to have to find another route.
Cryptocurrency was the new thing, but there was still other outlets to move shit around.
Pensive, I brought my hand to my chin and let the scenery take me away as my driver wheeled up to the mansion behind a concrete wall with an iron gate.
The only car parked outside was my partner, Knowledge’s black Lamborghini.
That nigga practically lived at my house.
I wasn’t surprised to find him there. He’d probably been there the entire time I was away.
I allowed my driver to get out and grab my bags before he opened my door, and planted one of my Ferragamo loafers on the red brick driveway.
“Welcome back, boss,” Deviance, my driver, said with a nod.
“Thanks.” I nodded and grabbed my carry-on bag while approaching the double doors to my home.
Before I could even reach them, one swung open.
That nigga Ledge was standing there looking fresh off the block in some joggers, a pair of Nike slides over some fresh white socks, and a wife beater with his pistol tucked in his waistband.
His chain hung to his stomach, and the diamonds in the pendant attached gleamed in the morning sunlight.
His ass was comfortable as fuck around there.
“My nigga,” he greeted me with open arms while stuffing his face with a sandwich.
We slapped hands, and I stepped into my front entryway. After setting my bag on the ground, I closed the door behind me and watched that fool take another bite from his food.
“How was the trip?” Ledge queried, noticing my solemn mood.
“Not as productive as I would like. We gotta figure out a way to move this cash and make it all clean,” I informed him, reaching up to pull my blazer off my shoulders. “How were things here?”
“Same ol’.” Ledge shrugged and chewed his food. “So what’s the plan?” He trailed me as I steered myself into my open living room.
“I’ll figure some shit out,” I countered, rolling my sleeves up.
The shit was starting to stress me out and piss me off. My patience was also shot. I had held in plenty, but as time went on, my frustrations were growing. I didn’t move like this. Instant gratification was my thing. The fact that my problem was I had too much fucking money was aggravating as fuck.
“A’ight, you want to check on the prisoner?” Ledge queried, dropping down into a big chair that faced me in the spacious formal room.
He kicked his feet up on the table, and I smacked them shits right back down to the floor. He knew better. I was anal as fuck about my shit, and he needed to learn some fucking manners.
“That’s what the den is for,” I reminded him, and he sneered at me before he bounced onto his feet.
His dreads hung around his face, making him more rugged than he actually was.
“Fuck you. I was watching these IG bitches on the big screen anyway. They doing a cucumber contest and shit.” He stuffed the rest of his sandwich into his mouth and swiped his hands of any crumbs before swerving around back toward the entryway where he’d come from.
Shaking my head at his retarded ass, I just stared at the empty doorway for a minute before I sucked in a deep breath and brought my eyes to the ceiling.
Something had to fucking give. Knowledge and I had all kinds of businesses, but we had more dirty money coming in by the day.
I needed something else to invest in, and I didn’t have anyone bringing me anything I felt was going to benefit me in the end just as much as them.
They all seemed to be looking out for self, and that wasn’t the kind of nigga I was.
I enjoyed getting money just like the next man, but there had to be limits to that shit.
Some things I just wasn’t willing to compromise for.
Taking slow strides into the foyer, I paused at the landing of the wide, winding staircase that led to the second floor.
For a moment, I stood there, just staring off while my thoughts took over.
Swiping my hand down my face, I went against my better judgment and started up the steps.
My home was massive. It was inherited from my parents, who were both living in the United Kingdom as of the moment.
Since I was their only child that actually lived in Virginia, it was where I chose to reside.
It was secluded with plenty of room for me to roam as I pleased.
I was often restless at night, so I would wander around from room to room.
My brothers and sisters teased me all the time of being like the beast in Beauty and the Beast. I brooded a lot and kept myself isolated on purpose.
Other than Knowledge, I didn’t have any friends.
He and I grew up together though. He was my brother from another mother, and any time I showed interest in something, he did too.
He was unpredictable and wild, but he was also solid and loyal.
I never doubted that or questioned him about where we stood. That in itself was rare these days.
I had a lot of family. The Roths held plenty of power and position.
That was who I fucked with. Even though I dealt with some of them with a long-handled spoon.
Reaching the top of the staircase, I could hear soft music playing.
It was so low that it was barely audible unless you were listening for it.
I took slow strides down the widened hallway.
There are times
When I find, you wanna keep yourself from me
When I don’t have the strength
I’m just a mirror of what I see
Aaliyah’s sultry voice floated through my ears as I neared the last door, which was at least twenty yards away.
The shit was massive, almost like a castle.
It was dark and grim like one too. I dug into the pocket of my pants and retrieved a set of keys.
Finding the one for this particular door, I stuck it in the lock and turned.
Natural sunlight coated the room in a warm glow.
The only view was that of the vast land just behind the house, where horses ran wild in the field and my staff tended to the garden and landscaping.
Shadows also pranced across the walls, and in the center of the room, there she was.
Harbor Lawson. Her body moved as if she was one with the beat.
She danced on her toes, and when she bent or swayed a certain direction, the shit flowed smooth like water.
Captivated, I eyed her as she continued with her eyes closed, practicing a routine that she seemed to know by heart.
It was ballet, but it was some other shit mixed in, making it more modern, and I hawked her from the doorway.
My hand rested on the doorknob, and when she turned, angling her upper body to one side with her hands in the air, her eyes popped open.
They were dark and dismal as she slowly lowered her arms and caught her breath.
She peered back at me like I had broken through into her private world.
In tights with a body suit underneath, she brought her feet firmly to the ground.
Unreactive. That was the best way to describe how she tensed up when her gaze landed on me.
She was sweating, and her hair was pulled away from her face, resting in a sloppy bun on top of her head.
Her skin had a natural glow over deep mahogany that didn’t carry a fucking blemish on it.
Attitude instantly sparked behind her hard gaze.
It was there every time she looked at me—disdain. She didn’t want to be here.
“Get dressed and come downstairs for breakfast,” I ordered, keeping my tone even.
“I’m not hungry,” her stubborn ass countered, lowering her head as she walked over to a nearby chair to grab a towel.
She turned the music off on the iPod dock.
It was the one thing she asked for after arriving here.
Music. She used the towel to wipe the sweat off her body.
Stacked in all the right places, the body of a fucking plastic surgeon patients’ dreams, Harbor was perfection on the outside.
That fucking attitude was what made me want to knock her down a few notches.
“It wasn’t a fucking request,” I said, a flicker of irritation and impatience shining behind my eyes. “I’m giving you ten minutes.” I backed out and left her standing there glaring back at me when I retreated from the room before I knocked her fucking head off.
Once I closed the door, I locked it again with the key and took off down the hall. Ledge waited at the bottom of the stairs when I landed, sipping from a bottle of Heineken.
“Everything good?” he asked.