The Queen's Diamond

by Niyah Moore

  I quickly finished my shower, dried off, put some lotion on, and threw on a Givenchy tank top and shorts.

  I heard a noise from downstairs, so I walked out of the bedroom.

  “Luxury?” I called.

  I walked down to the living room, but nobody was there. I went into the kitchen and still nobody, but I saw his car keys on the counter. Then I heard something move on the balcony. I walked to the glass sliding door and pushed it open. A thick puff of smoke greeted me.

  Luxury was sitting on a patio lounge chair, his shirt unbuttoned and open above his black jean shorts and some Gucci slides. Just the sight of him made me feel weak. In my heart, I started to regret all the dreadful things I had done. I felt like I didn’t deserve him.

  He gave me a half smile before blowing out another cloud of smoke. I tried to read his eyes to pick up on any hints that Egypt had thrown me under the bus. He seemed a little disoriented as he motioned for me to sit on his lap.

  I straddled him and put my head on his chest. Closing my eyes, I felt my heart beating hard. I had missed the way he smelled. I had missed the way I felt in his arms. I swallowed the hard lump that was forming in my throat. I was home now, and that was all that mattered.

  “Hey,” I said.

  He didn’t respond, just kept smoking. His silence was uncomfortable, and it was killing me, because I couldn’t read him. I was even more nervous now. Right when I was going to ask what was up with him, he put his blunt in the ashtray and wrapped both his arms around me. He stroked my back before planting a kiss on my forehead. It felt so good to be in his arms. Memories of the first time I saw him came crashing down. I wanted to get back to that feeling.

  “Did you miss me?” he asked with glassy eyes.

  He asked me that question as if he had doubts. That really put me on edge. Given all the arguing and shouting we had done while I was away, he should’ve known that I missed him.

  “You know I missed you, Luxury. Did you miss me?”

  “Of course I did,” he said as he stroked my hair.

  “Why you acting like you didn’t, then?”

  He didn’t respond, just kept caressing my hair. He was not helping my insecurities. My palms started getting sweaty. Though there was fear in my chest, I didn’t show it. I was cautious, because if he didn’t know about Nasim, there was no need to bust myself out.

  “What’s the matter with you?” I asked.

  “Nothing.”

  His eyes told me different. Something was bothering him. Luxury’s eyes were always honest, though his words weren’t. At that moment, I realized that lying to me was something that came too easy to him.

  “Hmmm. Well, I texted you to let you know I was home.”

  “I know,” he said quietly.

  Why was he giving me short-ass answers and staring at me as if I were a stranger? I hoped I was just paranoid. What if Egypt had told him something crazy, and he was just waiting for me to say it?

  “What you mean, you know, Luxury?” I scowled, trying to keep myself on track.

  He picked up his lighter and blunt. He lit what was left of the blunt, drew in smoke, and swallowed it before he blew it back out. “I was busy.”

  “So, you get at me with an attitude if I don’t answer, and if I said I was busy, you would have a fuckin’ fit. You were too busy to tell me you were busy?” My eyes started to water.

  He inhaled more smoke as he stared into my eyes, searching me. The longer he was silent, the harder my heart was beating.

  “So, you’re not going to say shit?” I questioned, almost feeling fed up.

  A fat ring of smoke hit me in the face. That was his answer.

  With a deep scowl, I started to get up, but he roughly grabbed my wrist.

  “Where you going?” he said.

  I rolled my eyes, trying to snatch my arm away from him, but he was stronger.

  “What, Luxury? I come home to you having an attitude. Would you like it if I hadn’t come back?”

  His grip loosened up completely. “Today is the anniversary of my brother’s murder . . . It’s always hard for me on this day, so I’m sorry. I’m a li’l fucked up right now. I’ve been drinking all day.”

  My heart sank. I had had no idea it was the anniversary of his brother’s passing. It had been so easy to assume that his attitude had something to do with my wrongdoings.

  “Baby, I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do?” I said sincerely.

  “Nah, you’re good. I popped a Xan to chill me out. This day is never good for me.”

  I nodded. “I’ll probably feel that way around Mina’s and Papi’s too.”

  “Let’s not talk about it. I’m happy we’re home, baby. You know, not being able to see you, touch you, kiss you . . . I couldn’t handle it. I thought I could, but I couldn’t. I will never leave your side for that long again.”

  I placed both hands on his face as I pressed my lips against his. When we kissed, he took my breath away. I was so stupid to have betrayed him. This was the man I had wished for, and now that I had him, I did him this way?

  When our lips parted, he looked into my eyes, and his hands were right back in my hair again. I didn’t want to argue or fight with him. I just wanted to stay like this.

  “Do you really love me, Luxury?” I asked.

  He was staring so deeply into my eyes that it felt like he was staring into my soul. “You don’t have to ask, Desire. Do you love me?”

  “And you don’t have to ask me. Fuck, yeah, I do.”

  That was the truth. I loved Luxury with all my heart. I didn’t have a real excuse for cheating on him. What I had done was unacceptable.

  His tongue traced my lips before it entered my mouth, as if he wanted to taste my words.

  Nodding his head, he said, “Good, ’cause I love the fuck outta you.”

  “Good.”

  “Hey, I got some news. You and the boys were offered to do a li’l mini tour.”

  “In the States, right? Since you have a fear of flying over water.”

  He smacked his lips. “Yeah, in the States. Like, only fifteen cities. We got Los Angeles, Miami, New York, you know. I gotta get on these niggas, because they been dumb and unprofessional lately. Late to shit and canceled in B-more for missing our flight.”

  “What? You didn’t tell me that.”

  “I didn’t want you to worry. That’s they shit. Anyway, you gotta get back in the studio, ’cause I got some hot collaborations happening.”

  “All right. Sounds good. Now, let’s go up to the room. I gotta show you just how much I missed you.”

  “You know a nigga with that shit.” He put out the end of his blunt.

  After taking his hand in mine, I pulled him all the way to our bedroom.

  * * *

  Over the next few days, Luxury had me recording and rehearsing like a maniac for this new tour with the Monnahan Boyz. As always, he kept me busy day and night. In between the times when I wasn’t recording, we had sex. Sex with Luxury was good, and it seemed like it had gotten better since I got home. The time we’d spent apart had been much needed.

  Nasim was becoming a problem. He had been hitting me up, but I hadn’t called him back. There was no point in talking to him when I knew what talking would lead to. The best thing I could do was keep what we did on the low. The last thing I wanted was for Luxury to catch wind that Nasim even existed.

  One afternoon Luxury walked into the studio as I was wrapping up this song I was doing with the pop singer Roxx. She wasn’t in the studio, because our schedules wouldn’t line up. Her part was already prerecorded, and I just had to do my part. Luxury nodded his head and motioned for me to come out of the booth.

  “Hey, boo,” I said, walking out of the booth.

  “Hey. That’s a hot song,” he said. “You done?”

  “Almost.”

  “Where’s Egypt?” he asked, looking around.

  “She texted me and said she has the flu and wouldn’t be down here tonight. I told
her I hope she feels better,” I replied, sitting on the couch.

  “I’ll check on her later.”

  The studio door opened, and some short, light-skinned chick walked in and smiled at Luxury.

  “What you doing here?” Luxury scowled. “How you even find me?”

  She rolled her eyes at him. “You shouldn’t tag your whole life on social media, nigga. Everybody knows where to find you. You got to do mo’ betta.”

  Who the fuck is this rat-faced bitch? I rose to my feet from the couch and put my hands on my hips.

  She took one look at me, turned up her nose, and faced Luxury. “I came because you ain’t been answering my calls about your son. He needs new clothes. He’s growing fast. So I came to collect.”

  “This your baby mama?” I asked, feeling my skin crawl.

  I looked her up and down. She had a cute shape, and she was dressed fly—I couldn’t deny her that—but she was ugly in the face. I never would’ve thought he would fuck around with anybody that looked like Master Splinter’s daughter.

  “Well, hello to you too,” she said, finally making eye contact with me. “Since you’re my son’s stepmama, wouldn’t you like to meet him soon?”

  “Let me talk to you for a minute, Charity,” Luxury said, roughly grabbing her arm to take her outside the room.

  After snatching her arm away from him, she pointed her long nail in his face. “Take yo’ fuckin’ hands off me, nigga. Just give me the dough, and I’m up outta here.”

  “Why can’t you hand her the fuckin’ money right here in front of me?” I asked, feeling some kind of way. This secretive transaction shit between them was on my last nerve.

  “Chill, Desire,” Luxury stated.

  “First of all, ho, this doesn’t even concern you,” Charity snarled, rolling her eyes at me. “Why don’t you go back to recording with your weak ass?”

  “Chill, Charity,” Luxury muttered.

  “Who you callin’ weak, bitch? You better watch how you talk to me. You might regret it,” I yelled.

  “Please, the only thing I’m regretting is not beating yo’ ass right up in this studio, ho. Don’t get embarrassed in front of your husband.”

  I stepped closer to her, and Luxury wedged himself between us.

  “Chill, Desire. Charity, chill. Aye, let me handle my business with Charity, and I’ll be right back. Don’t make me repeat this shit.” Luxury was doing his best not to lose his cool.

  “You better listen to your husband and chill,” she taunted.

  I lunged at her and swung, but Luxury wouldn’t let me get to her.

  “Move out of the way, Luxury. You gone let her disrespect me like this?” I barked.

  “The only person you’re disrespecting is yourself, ho. Fucking around with Nas. Yeah, you think nobody knows about that shit, huh?”

  I froze, and my mouth nearly dropped open, but I came back with, “Who the fuck is Nas?”

  “Yeah, bitch, you know Nasim. Don’t front. You should be more careful who you creep around with, triflin’-ass ho. Don’t ever get at me crazy again,” she stated. Before she walked out of the studio, she said over her shoulder, “Now, what’s up?”

  Luxury gave me this look that said he would get to me later about it. I blew air from my lips, feeling ready to beat her down. How did she know about Nasim and me? Was he friends with her? I felt like calling him up to find out if he was running his mouth like a bitch. While Luxury was out there talking to Charity, I hit Nasim with a text.

  Me: So why Luxury’s baby mama just brought you up in front of Luxury? Do you know her?

  It didn’t take long before Nasim replied. N: Who his baby mama?

  Me: Some bitch named Charity. The one who likes to run to the media to talk shit.

  N: I don’t know nobody named Charity.

  Me: Well, you been talking to somebody, because, for some reason, she knows about us.

  N: I don’t know how. When can I see you, beautiful?

  Me: Things have been better with Luxury, so I don’t know.

  N: When you get some time, let’s do lunch or dinner.

  I sighed. I didn’t know why it was so hard just to tell Nasim no. I cared about him and his feelings, and it was wrong for me to string him along and use him in times when I felt lonely. This thing about Charity knowing about what we had done had me a little stressed out. What if she had proof? What would Luxury do?

  Me: I’ll hit you up.

  I erased our messages and got back in the booth to finish the song.

  “Run that shit back to the bridge,” I said to the producer.

  “I got you,” he said.

  30

  LUXURY

  Show Some Respect

  “Charity, you can’t be saying shit like that to my wife. Any business about our son is our business, so you gotta leave her the fuck out of it.”

  “She started it. So, um . . .” She smacked her lips. “Why hasn’t she met our baby yet, Luxury?”

  “Chill. In time. Let’s get to why you’re here. How much you need this time?” I took cash out of my pocket and handed her all I had. “That’s all I got right now. I can come by tomorrow, after I go to the bank. We’re about to hit the road again, so I’ll be gone for a little while.”

  She quickly counted the bills and rolled her eyes. “This will do for now. I don’t mean to keep bringing this up, but my homegirl swears that Nas and Desire kicked it all while she was in Spain, or wherever she was. I think you should look into that.”

  “Man, why do you keep going with this bullshit?”

  “My girl said that he told her that he’s been fucking with her all up throughout the world. And get this, she covered his first-class flights, shopping sprees, hotel suites, all his expenses, Luxury.”

  My heart was pounding, but I couldn’t take her seriously. This shit sounded like some reality TV scripted bullshit. Charity had to be lying. I felt like she was trying to sabotage my relationship, because she couldn’t stand to see me with anybody but her.

  “Shut the fuck up. That’s bullshit, and you know it.”

  “Nigga, what?” Her face was frowning all up.

  “I don’t fucking believe you.” The fire in my eyes could scorch her.

  She backed up a little, paying close attention to my body language. “I know we ain’t all that cool at times, but trust me when I say that I am not a hater. I just don’t want to see you out here looking dumb as fuck. I wouldn’t lie to you about something like this. She’s a ho, Luxury. Plain and simple. You picked her up from the strip club, so now drop her ass back off there. That’s where she belongs.”

  “You’re really jealous, Charity. It’s okay to be jealous, baby. You ain’t gotta lie, though. She would never fuck around on me. You know who the fuck I am.”

  “I’m jealous? Me? Of who? That ho?”

  “Yeah, you’re jealous. You think by telling me this that I’m gone get rid of her. News flash, she ain’t going nowhere. She’s my wife, so deal with it, with yo’ thirsty ass.”

  “Thirsty? Nigga, you got me all the way fucked up. You need to wake the fuck up and realize your wife is a ho. While she was overseas, suckin’ and fuckin’ the next nigga, she got you over here thinking she’s top-notch when she’s just herself, a stank-ass ho. You’re dumber than I thought.”

  “So, what does that make you, then? Getting pregnant by a nigga who doesn’t want you.”

  “Fuck you, Luxury. Don’t come crying to me when you find out the real.”

  I gave her the middle finger before walking back into the studio. She had me hot. I was the wrong nigga. I didn’t believe anything that came out of her mouth. Desire didn’t have time to be fucking no niggas other than me. I knew where she was always. Now, if I heard this shit from Frill or Lavish, I’d consider it and check it out, but coming from my baby mama, that was out.

  Desire was ending her song when I walked in. I bobbed my head with approval. This was a certified number one hit.

  “That shit is
hot, baby,” I said, clapping my hands.

  She twisted her lips to the side in disbelief. “You didn’t even hear it, talking about it’s hot.”

  “I did hear it. I could hear it outside the door. Aye, come here for a minute. Let me holler at you.”

  She walked over to me, looking a little sad. I had a feeling the shit Charity said had got to her.

  “Hey, don’t trip off Charity. I’m sorry she got at you like that. Don’t worry about shit she’s talking about. She’s just jealous, baby.” I embraced her and placed kisses all over her face before kissing her lips.

  “She better watch what she say, before people start believing her,” she said.

  “Hey, as long as we know the truth, we got nothing to worry about.”

  “That’s right, baby. I’m glad you don’t believe rumors.”

  “You already know how I feel about rumors. You ready to get up out of here?”

  She nodded. “Yeah, I’m done for the night.”

  We wrapped up the session and left. On our way to the house, I received a call from Egypt.

  “Who is that?” Desire asked, peering down at my phone.

  “Egypt. Answer it for me. I didn’t link the Bluetooth.”

  She picked up my phone and answered. “Hello?”

  “Put it on speakerphone,” I said.

  She did what she was told, and Egypt’s voice came through. “Oh, hey, Desire. Is Luxury around?”

  “I’m here on speakerphone,” I said. “I’m driving. What’s up? How you feeling? I hear you sick and shit.”

  “I got the damn flu or something. Anyway, I don’t have good news.”

  I frowned. “I don’t like unwelcome news, E.”

  “I know that, but I have to let you know. So the guy you had that booked this fifteen-city tour fucked up. There is no tour.”