Prologue #2
“You have privilege, Miles,” I said. “That’s why you spend most of your time playing around town and partying. If I don’t get this—if I don’t win —then what was all this for? All the pretending. All the silence. All the blood I’ve swallowed just to be taken seriously. I just want to be remembered.”
He stared at me.
“You’re right, I won’t get King Enterprises. It will go to Erik. But I’m not going to be a housewife like Laurene, and I’m not gonna be lazy like Gigi. I know I’m meant for something bigger.”
I finally just picked out a black dress and pulled it up over my hips with shaking hands. But when I reached for the zipper, my fingers fumbled uselessly at the small of my back.
“My mind’s made up, Miles. King Developments first, then we’ll see.”
I stood there in silence for a beat, eyes shut, furious at myself for needing him in even the smallest way.
“It can’t happen any other way.”
Then I felt him behind me.
No words.
His mouth found my neck. Hot, soft, trailing down. I clenched my fists, trying to suppress the desperate urge to turn around and throw myself at him.
“I can’t win against your family,” he murmured against my skin, tongue flicking just beneath my ear. “I definitely can’t change your mind. I would never try to change you or invalidate your feelings, Sunny.”
“J-just let me finish my plan. Then…then we can tell them.” I gasped.
I felt his breath on my neck, his lips brushing once more across the place where my shoulder met my throat—featherlight, like he was memorizing it.
Then, finally, he pulled the zipper up. Slowly. Excruciatingly slowly. Each inch felt like a thread unraveling inside me, a slow, agonizing pull. I turned slowly to stare into his dark brown eyes.
With a gentle touch, my fingers cupped his cheek, his beard, coarse and dark, scratching against my palm.
He was all golden-brown skin and sharp edges softened by a mess of tight curls that looked like they hadn’t been brushed, just pushed through with frustrated fingers.
I traced the faint dusting of brown freckles across the bridge of his nose.
What did I do to be blessed by him?
I kissed him.
Slow. Firm. Deep.
I savored the sweetness of the wine on his tongue as it gently pressed against mine. His hand slid up, fingers grazing my spine, and I melted into the curve of his chest like I had a hundred times before. I fisted my hands in his suit jacket, pressing my body to him where there was no space.
With a breath, I released his lips and inhaled shakily, looking up at him.
“Handle your father.”
Untangling myself from Miles, I headed downstairs to rejoin the party.
I spotted Mama and Daddy at the far end of the room, whispering vehemently among themselves. It was only when I got close that I heard Mama hiss, “He’s on something, Vincent!”
I almost gasped as Omar Whitmore stumbled through the crowd, his champagne glass tilting dangerously in his loose grip.
That’s not drunk. I know drunk . Drunk is falling into a gardenia bush after too many martinis or flirting with someone’s husband.
What started off as a simple party was now becoming a Jerry Springer episode.
The day after the most beautiful night of my life. Of course everything went wrong.
“Relax, Vonnie. He’s fine,” Daddy said, but I could see he didn’t believe himself.
“This is not the first time. Look! He’s sweating like this is the Mississippi Delta! He’s falling over, and his eyes look blacked out like an alien,” Mama said. “He ain’t been right since his father died.”
“You weren’t any better,” Daddy reminded her. Mama glared at him.
I expected tonight to be low-key. Simple but luxurious. A big King party for the whole town before Laurene’s engagement party next week, complete with rosé, twinkling lights, and that laidback summer feel that Lush brings.
“You saw him at the mayor’s gala when the press was interviewing him. He looked unshaven and dirty like some drifter.”
“That’s just grief,” Daddy said, standing up for his best friend.
Mama’s glare didn’t ease up. “I never let myself go like this when my daddy died. Omar gave a sloppy, rambling speech at the town hall. He crashed my Women of Lush networking brunch, and you know much time I put into that, Vincent , don’t act dumb.”
“It could be depression. Anxiety?”
“And? What does that have to do with him messing up my party?” Mama put her hands on her hips.
“The Ashbournes are here. Lord knows we don’t need to give them any more ammunition than they already have.
All the families that matter in Lush are here.
Mayor Johnson, the Lush Chronicles , investors, donors ?—”
I knew better than to interrupt when Mama was pissed. My eyes flicked back to Omar.
“He’s our friend,” Daddy said, wincing as he watched Omar fall into a guest who yelped.
Despite what Miles thought, Mama had been dropping hints about giving me King Developments. She wanted to add another venture to King Enterprises, but Erik was too busy with King Aviation. Laurene was obsessed with her art.
This was it. But one wrong move from me tonight, and she’d place it right back into Erik’s lap without blinking.
So, I stayed still.
It was my job to ensure everything ran like clockwork tonight, and Omar was a variable I couldn’t control.
“Omar, stop !” Audrey, his wife, cried. We all spun around to see Omar knocking a drink from a guest’s hand. The woman gasped and leaped back, eyes wide with fear.
Mama would already be pissed off when I told her about the engagement. But maybe Miles was right. She loved Miles. He grew up at our house. He was the only one of us kids who could ever make her laugh.
I hoped.
“You think you’re better than me?” Omar slurred with rage as he moved toward the group of guests clustered near the bar whispering. “You all think you’re so fucking perfect. Always looking down on me…”
What could I do? I couldn’t rush over and help—not without putting everything that I worked for at risk. But Miles… I had to help, didn’t I?
“Pops!” Miles shouted over the crowd, walking toward him.
Omar shoved a passing staff member with a tray, sending the champagne flutes and canapés scattering across the marble floor. The server yelped as glass shattered everywhere.
“ Enough , Omar,” Daddy shouted as he and Mama rushed over to him. My heels clicked on the marble as I trailed behind her. My mind whirled with possible solutions, but nothing viable.
“Stay outta this, Vincent!” he slurred, voice all shaky. “This is all your fucking fault, you hear me? Your fault!”
“Look, man, we can discuss all that later, in private. Now ain’t the time. Let’s get you—” Daddy placed a hand on Omar’s shoulder.
“No!” He jerked away violently, his eyes flashing with something that bordered on panic. “It can’t be fixed! They’re here! ”
“Who?” Daddy’s brows furrowed.
Then Mama turned, her eyes slicing toward me. “What are you supposed to be doing, Serena?”
“Well, I?—”
It’ll all be worth it when I’m finally CEO , I told myself, when I’m not just cleaning up messes but building something that’s mine within the family.
“Pops,” Miles said again, taking a step toward him cautiously.
“They’re all watching,” Omar muttered, his voice low, barely a whisper. His head snapped toward the corner of the room, then his gaze snapped to the left, locking on a group of guests who were watching, terrified. “They’re all watching. Everyone’s watching .”
“Omar, snap out of it! You’re making a damn fool of yourself.” Mama’s voice was icy. The smell of her expensive perfume was sharp, almost bitter. Her manicured fingers snapped, summoning security.
I made eye contact with Miles. Inside, everything was a storm—between wanting the success I knew I was destined for and wanting what my heart yearned for.
If I said something, questions would be asked. Why was I defending Miles? Why did I care? Mama would look too closely, and I knew she would figure us out immediately. Erik would get angry. Scandal. Corruption. People would talk about me instead of Laurene.
If I spoke, I’d lose King Developments. If I didn’t, I’d lose him.
How do you choose between a legacy and a love that could shatter it all?
“Handle this,” Mama barked at the nearest security, snapping her fingers.
“Let’s get you outta here, Omar,” Daddy said softly.
One of the guards reached out, but Omar snapped—shoving the man so hard he went flying into the dessert table. Guests gasped.
“Stay the fuck away from me!”
Mama’s grip tightened on my arm, her nails digging in like she needed an anchor.
A sickening thud reverberated as Omar’s fists landed on Daddy’s chest when he stepped forward to grab him, sending him stumbling backward and careening to the floor.
“Vincent!” Mama screamed. I jumped in front of her, gently shoving her back a bit.
Daddy hit the ground hard, groaning. Omar was on top of him, his hands clawing at Daddy’s throat. It was terrifying how fast and strong he was. “Daddy!” I yelled.
Miles just stood there like a statue. His eyes were wide, not blinking, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He took a half step forward, then stopped. His hands twitched at his sides, but they didn’t lift.
“Do something!” I yelled at Miles. “Move! Don’t just stand there!”
A second guard tried to rip Omar off, but he stayed put.
He was totally unaware of the hands on his shoulders.
With a growl, he spun, throwing an elbow into the guard’s face, sending him stumbling backward, his nose spurting blood.
The guard collapsed to his knees, gasping for air, his vision likely a blur.
Everyone scattered, yelling, trying to escape from the hell unfurling.
Why couldn’t Miles do something? My father was on the floor, and the man I wanted to marry was standing there stuck on stupid.
Daddy’s body bucked beneath him, his hands clawing at Omar’s wrists, his legs kicking out against the marble floor. His face reddened, veins bulging at his temples as he gasped for air.
I started to rush forward, but I was yanked back abruptly. “Don’t you fucking dare!” Mama hissed at me, dragging me back with force. “You will not be getting hurt.”
“But Daddy?—”
Her grip tightened like a vise. Daddy’s feet scraped the floor, his shoes scuffing the tiles as Omar’s thumbs pressed into his windpipe.
Suddenly Erik was leaping through the crowd.
He crossed the room in less than two strides, and he hit Omar with a full-force shove, driving him into the floor so hard the impact sent a shock wave through the room. More security poured in, and I could see the lights from several phones recording.
Miles finally seem to jump awake, and rushed to Omar. “Pops!”
That didn’t stop Omar.
He was back instantly, like a spring, lunging for Daddy again. But Miles got Omar in a rear chokehold from behind, yanking him back hard. He struggled wildly, trying to escape from his son’s grip.
Omar let out a choked roar, his hands clawing at Miles’s arms, his nails digging into his skin, but Miles didn’t let go.
Erik was on his knees next to Daddy as he helped him up, eyeing Omar like he was bird shit on his windshield. Daddy coughed, his breathing ragged, his hand on his throat.
“Call the police,” Mama barked to a staff member. “Get an ambulance here right away.”
I ran over, grabbing Daddy’s arm, shaking like crazy. “Daddy…”
Suddenly, Laurene and Gigi burst through the throng, their faces pale. Gigi’s wail echoed over the murmur of the crowd, tears already streaming down her face as she collapsed onto Daddy and he groaned.
“I-it’s okay. I’m okay…” Daddy coughed.
Miles kept wrestling with Omar. His grunts punctuated the sounds, and I saw him bite Miles’s forearm.
“Damn! Stop!” Miles’s voice cracked, his grip tightening.
This chaos would haunt every deal, every meeting, every family dinner we had.
With a sharp crack, Erik’s fist met Omar’s jaw. Omar went slack, his body crumpling into Miles’s arms.
Miles held on to his father, but glared at my brother. “You ain’t have to do all that. I had him.”
“You didn’t have shit . What the fuck is wrong with him?” Erik’s voice was a hiss of pure venom. I could count on one hand the number of times I’d seen my brother that angry.
Miles squared his shoulders. “You think I wanted this?”
“You didn’t stop it,” Erik barked . “That’s the same damn thing.”
He took a step forward. Miles matched it. And just like that, the space between them vanished.
I moved fast, grabbing Erik’s arm, tugging hard. “Erik, enough. Miles, get your father.”
Miles’s head turned, and the second our eyes met, I felt the shift. Not anger. Worse. Disappointment. Hurt, cold and quiet.
“That’s it?” he asked, low. “Just ‘get my father’? You’re not gonna say something else?”
I swallowed, and Erik jerked his arm from my grip. “Why are you looking at her like that?”
Miles didn’t answer. Just kept staring at me.
“Say it,” he said, daring me now. “Just say it. Things can’t get worse.”
I blinked, my mouth parting slightly. For half a second, I thought about telling the truth. About saying I loved him.
But all I could think was, Don’t say anything. Don’t give them a reason to look at you. Don’t give Mama something to use.
“I want him gone!” Mama shouted.
Miles tensed up. “Miss Yvonne?—”
“Don’t.” Her voice was steely, firm. Her gaze flicked to Daddy, still struggling to breathe, and something in her face hardened even more.
“You think I’m going to let this slide? That I’m going to pretend like I didn’t just watch him nearly choke my husband to death?” She gestured toward Daddy, toward the shattered glass, the discombobulated guests, the absolute fucking disaster of it all. “I will be pressing charges.”
Miles’s breath hitched. “Come on, you can’t?—”
“Yvonne, we’re so sorry,” Audrey said, tears in her eyes. Mama ignored her friend and shook her head.
“I can, and I will . ” Mama’s voice never wavered. “This has been going on for too long.”
“Honey…” Daddy’s weak voice said.
“No! Audrey, we had a private conversation about your…situation, and I understood. I gave grace. But this? I can’t allow that to happen.”
Erik stepped closer to Mama, his hand catching mine as he tugged me gently to his side. My heels scraped against the stone as I stumbled into place.
I looked at Miles.
He looked only at me.
Mama shook her head. “Now get him the hell out of here before I have security drag him out like the animal he is. Our friendship? It’s done. I never want your family in our presence again.”
Miles’s jaw clenched, his throat visibly working. Then Erik stepped in front of me like a shield—cutting the line of sight between us.
“You heard my mama.” His voice was low and cold. “Get your father. Get out.”
Miles didn’t move.
Just…stared. Past Erik.
At me.