Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 73556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
“…Just a minute ago you said I was basically plottin’ against the wolf. Which is it? If you’re going to use these nursey rhymes, children’s stories and metaphors, at least be consistent.”
“I will consistently put my size 11 boot up your narrow ass! Now you listen here, fucker. I want that information, and I want that to be your job in this family business. I don’t wish to take you away from your nine to five! Ohhhh no! I expect you to stay right there and do what you do best—only better. And for me.
“I want you to tell me in advance about what is about to start risin’, and what’s about to start crashin’. Stocks and trading information. I want someone right there in the thick of things. I need that money for this family enterprise to keep goin’. Keep chuggin’ away. In order to make money, you have to invest money. Everybody knows that. You’re the stockboy, Black Sheep, and your word is your bond.”
The call suddenly went dead.
Roman held his cellphone for a few seconds, then tossed it angrily on his bed. He walked to his safe that was built into his wall, opened it, and looked inside. After pulling out several pieces of jewelry, documents such as his passport and birth certificate, he saw the empty, vast darkness way in the back. The spot where a small notebook with water stains used to be.
Shit.
He’d kept it there to remind him to never become that person again. To never fall into the old traps of greed. To not turn into his father. Sure, he used the money to advance and help a few loved ones out, but he also bought flashy things, indulged in perverse sexual trysts, drank pricey wines and liquor, smoked expensive cigars, took international trips, and had frivolous fun with it, too.
“Alexa, play Derik Fine’s, ‘Gaslight.’” The music began, and he finished removing his clothing. He stood naked and looked at his reflection in a large, round mirror. Anger colored his eyes as he mouthed the lyrics. Then, he stepped into his master suite bathroom and started the shower. He was going out with a beautiful woman. Genesis captivated him the way no other woman had before. They’d been talking on the phone, and texting back and forth daily. The connection was deepening, and he wanted to explore just where this could go. He smiled as he realized that tonight would be their fourth date. He was becoming attached to her, and he didn’t mind it at all. That thought alone put a smile back on his face…
CHAPTER NINE
Tinder Dates and Methadone
Genesis ran her fingers through her black Goddess braids, threaded with strands of light brown and silver beads as she sat on the tufted cream and gold chair before her vanity. A little spritz of Prada Candy perfume behind the ears, along the wrists, and near her collarbones completed the aromatic adornment. Standing to her full height, she reached for her phone which lay on her nightstand and turned off Jorja Smith’s ‘Feelings.’ She slipped her smooth feet into black and white polka dot heels that matched her black and white polka dot shirt that she wore with flared black slacks. Grabbing a silver claw clip for her hair, she did a quick half up, half down style, snatched her purse from the bed, as well as her SUV fob, then headed out the door.
As she approached her car to drive over to the bar to meet up with Roman, she noticed a lime green Aston Martin pull up. The tinted passenger’s side window slowly rolled down, and a man with a sexy, bright white smile leaned towards the window from the driver’s seat.
“You’re not driving this time. Come get in this car with me. We’re going together. As a couple.”
Genesis readjusted her purse strap along her shoulder as the sounds of ‘This Is,’ by Ella Mae, drifted to her ears. Billows of smoke surrounded him in a sexy haze as he loosely held a long cigar, his eyes a gold and cinnamon smolder. Before she could respond, he put the vehicle in park, got out, and opened the passenger’s side door. Ready and waiting.
“Come on now, girl. Time waits for no one.”
Smirking, she clutched her purse to her stomach and slid inside the passenger’s seat of the car that smelled of smoky cherries, Black Ice air freshener, and a rich, musky cologne that he’d worn previously, too. Damn. Roman. Smelled. GOOD! He closed her door, hopped in the driver’s seat, extinguished his cigar, then took off with the speed of a demon.
“This is an Aston Martin, right? Nice car. Strange color, in a good way. It’s unique.” She tugged at her seatbelt, ensuring it was secure. “I like this dark gray on the inside, too.” This motherfucker drives too damn fast. High velocity should be his nickname. My eyes feel like they are being stretched all the way back to the motherland. I’m going to sit here and try to be cool, though… do my best not to complain. Our Father, who art in heaven…