by Vera Roberts
“You tell us, Ms. Reporter!” Eli laughs. He’s the famed floral designer of the Madre’s reality show and second-youngest brother of the D’Amato dynasty. He’s tall with a goatee, messy dark hair, and tattooed sleeves. “How’s it like working at The Times, yo? Is it just as crazy in the movies and shows?”
“Nothing like that.” I shake my head. “It’s hectic because you have to stay on top of news no matter what is going on but there is some downtime. It’s not a job you can be caught slipping.”
“I hear that,” Tony shakes his head. He’s the youngest D’Amato brother and well-respected barber. He has his own reality show and a very successful hair care line. “You constantly have to know what’s going on. Everything changes every minute, though.”
“It doesn’t matter; you change with it.” I shrug. “The tweeting idiot in the White House has something to say at 3 A.M.? You report it. There’s a protest at 10 A.M. because of what he said at 3 A.M.? You report it. There are new policies in response to the 10 A.M. protest because of the 3 A.M. Twitter rant? You report it.”
“That has to be exhausting,” Krista shakes her head, “I’m exhausted taking care of a newborn so I can’t imagine doing all of that on top of raising a household.”
Having children of my own never crossed my mind. Not that I didn’t want to become a mother, but I never put myself in that category for it to become a serious thought. Soul mentioned one time many moons ago that he wanted to father my babies.
I’m not getting my hopes and about to make a Target run to pick out frilly pink dresses and wonder if I should go with the muslin cloth that’s extra soft or something more organic because I don’t want to leave a big footprint on the earth.
I also wonder if I can handle being a journalist/mother or turn into some version of what I was and go back to reporting on YouTube celebrities and the stans who love them. Why be serious about world events when I can talk about the avocado toast someone made?
Never did I think in a million years I would be stuck choosing a long career versus choosing motherhood but here I am. “Well,” I finally answer after some thought, “maybe the world will be in a better place when that happens for me.”
“What about you, Soul?” Faith has her cup out for the hottest tea. “Would you want a wife who’s a working mother? That’s a big argument in our household.”
“I thought you were split and there were two households?” Soul replies. “Kinda hard to have an argument about what you’re doing if Eli doesn’t live there full-time.”
Eli almost spits out his drink while Tony folds his lips. “You always have something smart to say, Soul.” Faith shakes her head. “One day you’re going to say the wrong thing and regret it.”
“There are a lot of things I’ve done in my past I regret. I have yet to regret one thing I’ve said.” He emphatically states. “You’ve known me since college, Faye. I don’t have time to be playing or implying when there’s money to be made and an empire to run.”
“Say what you mean and mean what you say,” Tony chimes in and the men agree.
“Too many people want to PC nowadays and it’s stupid. Not saying people should be the racist, bigoted assholes they’re hiding. But you’re going to piss someone off, no matter what your intentions are. I’m creating a line right now with my friend, Roman, and it’s just for the ladies. I already have had calls from the PC police about how the models I’m going to use aren’t trans. Like, number one, I haven’t even decided who’s going to walk in our damn show. But also two, why are we being called out? Versace? Louis Vuitton? Stella McCartney? None of them are called out. But I’m always the one people have time for.
“But back to what you’re saying, I’ll cross that bridge when the time comes.” He states. “Not saying which way I’ll lean. I don’t know how I’ll be at that point, neither.”
“That’s fair.” Faith concedes. “Seeing how serious you two are, I doubt it’ll be a decision long in the running.”
The way Faith said it makes me wonder if there’s more to what she was implying. “I don’t follow.”
“Oh?” Faith’s eyes twinkled. “I’m surprised Mr. Soul over here hasn’t told you you’re the first woman to live with him.”
Soul’s had numerous girlfriends in the past and some were quite famous. This A-list singer. That A-list actress. That New York socialite. That famous ex of that A-list athlete. And he lived with none of them. Granted, the majority of the women were fleeting conversations, not actual relationships.
They were the type of conversation piece someone would start with, ‘Oh, by the way, did you know?’ and it would be discussed for a few entertaining minutes before moving onto the latest sale at Macy’s.
I’m not sure if I’m a conversation piece but I’m not quite a press conference. “Really?” I turn to Soul, who looks a cross between bemused and annoyed at Faith’s antics. “Pray tell.”
“I guess it means there’s something about you specifically because that one would never put a ring on any of the others.” She winks.
“And thank God for that.” Eli took a pull from his beer. “If I received one more goddamn request for a bouquet...”
“Let me know when the wedding is and all of that!” Faith chimed in, much to Eli’s dismay. “What? Dude, they’re going to get married. They’re going to have a ton of trust fund babies and that’s that. I want to do her hair for the wedding. That’s all I’m asking.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw Soul was hiding a smile. I clearly passed the test with his friends. A bigger test with his family awaited me.
Chapter Three
“I think I ate too much.”
Soul chuckles as I take a seat at the bar. He gets out bottled water and gives it to me. “Julian’s has some bomb ass food for real, though.”
“For real.” I open the water and take a long swig from it. It feels like it came straight from God’s personal pond. After we chilled, danced, and ate, we finally arrived home. Thank God it’s a Tuesday and I have a light week at the Times. “I’m glad your friends like me, baby. It feels like I’m part of your clique now.”
“They’re good people. Even when Eli and Faye had their bullshit going on, no one played favorites with me because I ain’t with the bullshit.” Soul replies. “Either you’re down with me or you’re not.”
“What mess did they have?” I ask. “It had to have been serious enough for you to fire that warning shot.”
Soul took a sip of water and let out a small breath. “Faye and Kris falsely accused Eli of beating Faye and the D’Amato family covering it up. It was a huge scandal a while back and got ugly very quickly. The FBI promptly investigated Faye’s father, Faye nearly lost her business and home because Eli transferred everything to her so he wouldn’t have to pay for anything. He gave her more money in support as long as she could never use D’Amato as a last name ever again. Eli didn’t speak to Faye for two years.”
The way Faith and Eli acted at dinner, I would’ve never guessed they once hated each other. They were loved up on each other like newlyweds who couldn’t get enough. “I remember hearing about how ugly it was but I never knew the details. I guess I didn’t really care at that point.”
“Grand opening and grand closing.” Soul referred to how quickly the news disappeared. I don’t doubt the D’Amatos helped made that story go away. “The D’Amatos lost a lot of money but Faye’s reputation took the biggest hit. It’ll be a long time before people will get over the fact she falsely accused her ex of something.”
Soul wasn’t playing when he said a man’s reputation of false allegations hurt him more than just bad words. “And Eli forgave her?”
“She’s still the mother of his children, no matter what.” Soul justifies, his blue eyes crinkling with each word. “It’ll take a long time for him to forgive her fully, though. I think it’ll take forever. Hence why they’re together, but they’re not married again. I’m not entirely sure he wants to marry her again. If he does, th
e most iron-clad prenup will be in place.”
I know wealthy families have prenups but the thought of signing one is terrifying. I’ve heard horror stories of women blindly signing one and leaving with just a suitcase. “But it’ll be easier for their children, wouldn’t it? Instead of going to Daddy’s house this week and then going back to Mommy’s house that week.”
“That’s up to them.” Soul adds. “But Eli is over at Faye’s home more than either of them are admitting. He’s there at least four days a week.” He shrugs and a soft chuckle escapes his lungs. “Reminds me a lot of my childhood. Mom and Dad been separated but you would never know it.”
“How long have your parents been separated?” I ask. “I thought they were still very much married.”
“They are. They’ve been separated for the past ten years. Honestly, I think it was longer than that. Ocean told me he thinks they separated shortly after I turned four because that’s when the appearance of nannies became more prominent.” He takes another swig of water. “They’ll never divorce, though. They’re worth more together than apart. Not just money. They stay for a lot of reasons, but honestly, I think they’re just used to each other. No one else can tolerate their shit.”
A small smile forms on my lips and I reach out to touch Soul’s hands. He grasps mine back and a surge of energy soars through me. “I hope to tolerate your shit for years to come.”
“I hope so.” He smiles at me. “I’m easy but I’m guarded. Too many people try to come in and be buddy buddy with me because of my parents and the shit got old real quick. I’m talking teachers were being extra nice to me because they wanted access to my parents.” He looks up and I catch his beautiful cobalt blues. “You’re the only woman my mother has ever liked.”
I’m stunned. I swallow once. Then again for good measure. “Is that a good thing?”
“Yes,” Soul walks over and nudges my thighs open. They don’t even hesitate to do so. He cups my neck and sealed his mouth over mine. He kissed me like a man full of confidence with a side of aggression. “And for good reason.”
“I have a big day tomorrow, Soul.” I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him closer to me. “I need to get to sleep. I have a long day ahead of me.”
“Okay,” Soul began to undo my slacks and I don’t protest. “Do you need help falling asleep?”
“Um,” I feel my top come off. It’s not Soul’s hands but mine that are working on autopilot. “Maybe a nightcap.”
Soul picks me up and carries me upstairs. I would love to say we had the most romantic lovemaking that was ever shared between two people. But we didn’t.
We fucked. Long. Hard. Damn near all night.
The moment we entered the bedroom, Soul took the initiative and never let go. Calmly and in control, he ripped off my panties and barely had a chance to remove my bra before I did it. He shed his clothing in record time and climbed over me on the bed.
His eyes...they were serious. They were loving. They were full of anticipation and lust.
“I trust you, Ari.”
Those words were just as deep as Soul admitting he loved me. He knew many people but trusted very few. There was rawness inside of him, partially because of issues stemming from his own family but also from what the outside world thinks of him.
Our love is raw and open and has been that way for a hot minute. He was my heartbeat while I was his pulse. I completed him when he couldn’t find the missing piece to the puzzle.
He was family to me. The family I wish I had. The family I never knew. The family I’ve always wanted. I became lost within him. His world. His touch. His masculinity. I wanted to be with Soul forever.
“I love you, Soul.” I finally muttered the words back to him.
He simply smiled before he started the total domination of my body, mind, and spirit. He quickly shoved his cock inside me and I whimpered. My body felt so full, yet so welcoming of his love.
He gave me a series of powerful, deep strokes before he flipped me over on my stomach. He held me down by my shoulders as he took me from behind, rocking his hips against my ass and taunting me over and over.
“You like how I’m fucking this beautiful cunt, Ari?”
I gasped and cried. My body shook to the core as moans of various registers exited my lungs. His cock was relentless with each stroke. His groans and grunts made me hotter and wetter than before.
My sex tightened around his cock and my body collapsed on the bed just as I climaxed. I felt Soul moving faster and deeper until his cock jerked inside me, filling me with his hot come as he promised me forever with his words.
I owned Soul. He owned me.
And yet, this happiness would only be short-lived.
Chapter Four
“Tell me about your life now.”
Alondra Williams sits in front of me at a small table in her kitchen. Her apartment is basic – a small table and chairs in the kitchen, a sofa in the living room, a TV and entertainment center set up. Pictures of various family and friends adorn the walls.
She’s not poor, but she’s most certainly not comfortable. Getting by is a term she likes to use. She may have enough for pizza here and there, but she cooks at home whenever she can. She says it’s healthier, but she also admits it’s because she doesn’t have a lot of money to eat out.
She’s 28, yet her face appears younger than that. The smile and optimism is still there, though her eyes are starting to show wear from worry. She’s bouncing her six-month-old daughter on her lap, while her preschooler son is playing Sonic the Hedgehog on the TV.
Her boyfriend is currently at work doing deliveries. He drives for a number of companies and works for Uber and Lyft. He constantly works while Alondra stays at home to take care of their family. Once she gets a job, he’ll scale back on his jobs so he can watch the children. Child care is too expensive of an option.
“It used to be I can apply to any warehouse job and I would get hired. They wouldn’t even ask if I speak Spanish.” Her long purple braids swing from side to side. “Now if I don’t speak Spanish, I don’t get a call back.”
“Are you learning Spanish?” I ask.
“I have no choice now,” she answers with a sad laugh, “I don’t understand. They come over here and take our jobs, but I’m the one who has to learn Spanish. That makes no damn sense to me.”
“What about finances and all?” I ask. “How are you two doing?”
“We’re getting by,” she answers. “Right now things are tight, but I hope to get this job at a pizzeria coming up. We had to downsize a lot but I’m looking at constant free activities for the kids to do so they won’t be bored. So we’re managing.”
“If you had do it all over again, would you have voted differently in the last presidential election?”
Alondra shrugs. “It wouldn’t have made a difference. I’ll still be out of a job because I can’t speak Spanish. No president is going to help with that no matter how much they say they’re going to build a wall. The ones making the decisions are his supporters, yet they’re the ones hiring the illegals. Who’s gonna fix that?”
MIA JAX IS ARTIST EXTRAORDINAIRE. She writes, raps, produces, and composes all of her work. She’s written songs for numerous other artists and have written almost every song on her albums. The only songs she didn’t write are the cover tracks.
Selling over 200 million records with an estimated net worth that puts her in Jay-Z/Dr. Dre billionaire status, Mia is not one to play with. Despite her young age – she just turned 25 – she has a lot more planned. Her ultimate goal is to score a movie.
She changes her hairstyle depending on her mood and not necessarily what’s in trend. Right now, Mia is rocking a long, red hair style that looks part fiery and part seductive. It’s her intention. She’s prepping a new release and she’s on game mode.
She’s also popular for another reason – Mia is one half of Jax Squared; the combination of her stage last name and singer Jackson Cade’s first name. Since going publ
ic, the two have been rather mum about their relationship a la Beyoncé and Jay-Z. It doesn’t stop the speculation but only fuels it.
Yet, despite the acclaim and success, the superstar feels the music industry is changing and not in a good way. “I’ve had pushback since the beginning. No one felt I was this talented. No one wanted to give me a fair shot. Each time I went to the studio, there was always a question. I could get mad or I could make a hot album.”
“What was the turning point for you?”
Mia chuckles and smacks her lips. “One time, I had a music executive call me in. He heard a song of mine that was amazing. He thought it was a smash hit. He foresaw the promotion for it and how it was going to be. It would’ve been one of the biggest promotional records of all time if I’d listened to him.”
There’s more to the story that Mia isn’t revealing. “So what happened?”
She blows out a harsh breath and sucks the inside of a cheek. “It would’ve been a smash hit for a white artist. He had someone in mind. He wanted that song for that artist, but also, he wanted me to do their entire album.”
“The same thing happened with Jackson Cade, didn’t it?”
“That’s different. Jackson wanted to cover a couple of songs I had, but it was going to be clear I was the songwriter of both. The exec wanted me to be a ghostwriter for this other artist. They would’ve had all of the credit and royalties forever. Meanwhile, I would’ve been stuck somewhere eating cat food.” She looks out the window of the Café Au Lait and shakes her head. “Each time we make progress, they keep pushing the goal post a little further.”
“Damn.” Danny reads my work and shakes his head. “Just wow.”
“Yeah,” I let out a deep sigh. “A mess.”
“How come this isn’t more publicized?” He asks.
“Here’s a better question,” I fold my arms and lean back into my chair, “would anyone care enough? The anti-black sentiment is strong within the country. Despite how liberal someone might think they are, they don’t want black people to have too much of anything. We’ve been saying Black Lives Matter forever. Now, people are saying we should welcome illegal immigrants into our communities, but they don’t like us. Why should we fight for those who hate us?”
