Chapter 3
W ard laughed at the press waiting outside the car to throw questions at me like I was on home plate at the World Series.
Climbing out, I bypassed the reporters lining the red carpet, and I paused at the ballroom entrance.
Coming from a single-parent home in a low-income area, I wasn’t supposed to be here.
I’m sure they had my prison cell carved out and ready, but I became their worst fuckin’ nightmare instead.
Yassah looped her arm into mine, thrusting us forward while nosy guests whispered. Thandie was across the room, shooting sparks at me while pretending to listen to tech-billionaire Garrison Barnes.
“You know how to make a statement, don’t you?” she said, admiring my dark blue custom suit.
“You do too. Looking good as always,” I replied, taking in the gold, lace dress that turned heads as we walked across the room.
“Thank God I know better. It almost looks like we coordinated this look.”
“What do you know, Princess ?”
Yassah used my arm to spin in front of me as a distraction from her flushed cheeks.
“I know that Treason is waiting for the right woman, but Tre can’t commit to save his life.”
“Where’d you get that bullshit?”
I grabbed two glasses of champagne from the server and handed one to her.
“Credible sources,” she replied coyly.
I chuckled, handing her a glass. She quickly swallowed the pear-flavored mixture as fuel to get through her spiel. I just couldn’t decipher whether it was voluntary or if Jaleb had put a battery in her back.
“Just because I don't doesn't mean I can't . Never confuse the two.”
“Then what’s stopping you? I know damn well it’s not a lack of offers.”
“Only a fool would rush in where angels fear.”
Ignoring the one on her shoulder, Yassah gave in to temptation, asking, “What does that even mean?”
“The next woman I give my heart to will be the closest thing to God I’ve laid my eyes on. I’m a business, so I can’t give that shit out freely. ‘Gotta move smart. You should know, Miss CEO of Langston Media.”
Her gaze slid downward, mirroring the thoughts stirring in her pussy. Usually, Yassah could disguise her feelings, but tonight she was powerless. Jaleb joined us, offering a reprieve.
“About damn time.” His hand hitting my shoulder snapped Yassah out of her lustful trance.
“We were in the middle of a conversation,” she complained.
“Now you’re not. Treason’s on the clock, and we have work to do.”
“Sorry, playtime’s over, Princess,” I apologized, winking to soften her scowl.
Yassah stormed off while Jaleb mumbled under his breath about how she was still a spoiled brat. Then he led me to a mixed group that didn’t mind us interrupting their conversation. It wasn’t like they were discussing anything important anyway.
I turned toward the showstopper across the room that had Jaleb ignoring Zora Taylor’s comment. The backless dress had everyone hooked, but it was the effortless grace that held my attention.
“Pick your jaw up. You’re a married man,” I joked, causing Jaleb to smirk.
“I’m not blind, motherfucka,” Jaleb retorted, weighing his options, “and that dress might be worth the alimony.”
A man in his position getting married without a pre-nup was unheard of.
Some days, I couldn’t believe it. Even the wives who had one were trying to figure out who she was and why she was here.
I’d been to enough of these events to know when someone didn’t belong.
Or at least when they didn’t come to play the same game as everyone else.
Her toffee-colored skin moved across the room, looking as sweet as the candy tastes. With her natural sheen, she was born to stand out. Her body pulled you in, but her deep-set eyes kept you there. Every man in her path shifted, and every woman took inventory.
Including me.
Madison Pointe was my city, and I knew everybody in it, except her.
It wasn’t until I circled the mezzanine that I saw her in conversation with Abdul Hampton and his wife, Daige.
Abdul had a reputation. He was a self-made man who couldn’t be bought, unlike most in this city.
He was selective about the causes he gave his money to, and he damn sure didn’t make polite conversation with strangers.
Not with Daige standing at his side, grinning like she was watching a magician’s trick from the front row.
She smiled, polite and controlled, giving just enough to keep them on the hook. Miss Temptation wasn’t just beautiful, she was dangerous, too. I was itching to touch the stove to find out if it was as hot as it looked when Thandie grabbed it, pulling me into her.
“Come with me to the bathroom.” I could feel Thandie’s excitement through our laced fingers. She was usually all business at events like this, but not tonight.
“Can’t. I need to handle something.” She was disappointed that I took my hand back, noticing Gerald Whitmore, alone, sipping his overpriced scotch. “Gerald, good to see you.”
“Likewise, Treason. Enjoying the event?”
“I will be when you give up that building on 115 th .”
Gerald almost choked on my bold statement.
“Why would I do a thing like that?” He asked because there was no way in hell he’d give me prime real estate for nothing.
“That or the city finds out you’re profiting off people’s pain.” Gerald’s brows furrowed, refusing to admit anything, but I didn’t need him to.
“You’re way out of your league, Westbrook.”
“I know about your hustle with Mark Davis.” I stepped in front of him, now face to face, “The discretionary grants from the city to aid tenant relocation. You funneled them through shell LLCs, and all those displaced residents never got their money.”
“I don’t know where you’re getting your information, but you’re playing a dangerous game, boy!”
“I am danger motherfucka. Life-threatening and most of all, uncontrollable. If I don’t get the building, a zip drive might end up in the hands of a reporter itching for a legacy exposé.”
“This is blackmail!” he raged, his face beet red. “They thought hiring you would make a change in this city. You’re just like the rest of them!”
His below-the-belt jab didn’t hurt my feelings. It wasn’t shit he hadn’t done or worse to pad his own pockets and all the people who looked like him. Those tables always turned, and tonight he got a dose of his own medicine.
“If that comes out,” I smirked, kneading his shoulder, “it kills any chance of that nomination going through. Luckily, I care more about STEM programs. I want the lease for that building by noon, and not a second later.”
I could feel the heat from Gerald’s eyes as I walked back to Jaleb. He could call me whatever the fuck he wanted, but I’d beat him at his own game. The high from my victory was short-lived, watching a man who didn’t know how to read a woman’s body.
I pushed off the wall and strode toward him, caressing her arm.
“That’s not Braille. You don’t need your hands to see she’s not interested,” I said, cutting between them. Over my shoulder, I could see relief etched between Temptation’s brows.
He tried to answer for her, but I gave him the kind of look that made grown men find something else to do. He was no different, staggering away muttering.
She turned to me, expression unreadable. “Do you make a habit of inserting yourself in other people’s business?”
“I don’t believe in letting shit slide, especially disrespect to women. My mama would kick my ass if I didn’t come over here.”
“ Mama’s boy .” Intrigued, she crossed her arms, probing, “So now I owe you a dance? A kiss? My number?”
I chugged the rest of my whisky while shaking my head, “But I won’t turn it down if you offer.” I stepped closer, gauging all the eyes on us. “Shit, you did me a favor making me look like a hero.”
“And an attention whore too.” She raised an eyebrow. “I’m charging the next one to your campaign.”
“A futuristic thinker. I like that. What’s my good luck charm’s name?” I asked, offering her a grin.
“Relax, I didn’t mean it that way,” she blushed, shifting her weight, “I’m Navie.”
“Should I stand at attention or just follow orders?”
“That was so corny,” she claimed, but her infectious laugh said otherwise.
“You smiled, so my ego isn’t too bruised,” I replied, acknowledging her flushed cheeks at my corny joke. “I’m Treason.”
“I know.”
“That smirk tells me that’s not a compliment.”
Before Navie could explain, the event coordinator grabbed my arm.
“Mr. Westbrook, we need to get you mic’d up for your speech.”
“Good luck up there, Treason Westbrook.”
Our brief exchange had me yearning for me. Navie’s calm confidence sauntered away while I was ushered backstage. Not before I saw the glint in her eye. I wasn’t sure why, but I was drawn in.