Virtuous Deception
Leiann B. Wrytes
www.urbanbooks.net
All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Epilogue
Urban Books, LLC
300 Farmingdale Road, NY-Route 109
Farmingdale, NY 11735
Virtuous Deception Copyright © 2018 Leiann B. Wrytes
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without prior consent of the Publisher, except brief quotes used in reviews.
ISBN: 978-1-9458-5596-2
eISBN 13: 978-1-945855-97-9
eISBN 10: 1-945855-97-5
This is a work of fiction. Any references or similarities to actual events, real people, living or dead, or to real locales are intended to give the novel a sense of reality. Any similarity in other names, characters, places, and incidents is entirely coincidental.
Distributed by Kensington Publishing Corp.
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Dedication
To those that taught me how to walk with no legs, my risen angels . . . To every courageous soul that dared to love me through the ugly, whose kisses made life beautiful . . . To the two pairs of beautiful brown eyes that depend on me . . . This moment is for you.
Acknowledgments
I cannot adequately express the feeling coursing through me as I write these words. This has been such an arduous journey, and I am deeply grateful to those of you who have traveled with me. I love you all, even though some of you were unruly witnesses. LOL. We have fought, cried, played, worked, and laughed together; survived, failed, and triumphed. We have lived. There are things I would have done differently, but I cannot say that I regret any of it because of the wisdom I gained in the interim. I have struggled to reconcile my present self with the self I had always envisioned that I would one day be. I suffered from the loss I felt, the overwhelming sense of inadequacy as I came to terms with the fact that the little girl whose dreams stretched beyond the universe would be hard-pressed to see those dreams even reach the height of the shortest blade of grass on a freshly manicured lawn. It was a bitter pill to swallow, and it took years to get the taste out of my mouth.
Time extended itself to me and was patient while I learned to appreciate it. I am certain that prayers and love sent from afar assisted with the transition, I, alone, had to make, which emboldened me to take ownership of my life and make the changes, the necessary shifts in my mind that ultimately enabled me to get to this point. To become this woman; finally, someone that I am unashamed to be. Thank you all for the lessons, the good wishes, and the prayers that the Most High always answers. I cannot thank you enough.
To my friends, my extended family, thank you. Shaniqua, I simply could not go without our daily convo. Your words and actions have comforted me during some of my most trying times. Your friendship is invaluable. Love you, girl. Baptiste, you are my cosmic brother and one of the most talented people on the planet. Thank you for your unwavering confidence in my ability to do this. I write with you in mind. Nick, we are survivors. I apologize for ever causing you to question the sincerity of my love. You have always been a true friend to me, and I hope that you can say the same for me. Sophie, there are many things I could say, but it can all be summarized with this: I admire you. I admire you: fierce, woman, warrior, and I love you unashamedly. Lamar, you’re crazy, but I love you, man. LOL. I have always been able to count on you to have my back and speak the truth. The brashness you have to be yourself permitted me to do the same. Thank you. Millionaire, King, and Davrye (the McNamara Clan), love y’all!
To the family I was born into . . . I love you. To the two souls that parented me, Keithan and LaVida, I love you. We were not perfect, and I know you both gave your best. I could not have asked for more. To my sisters, Mayesha, Rochelle, and Raq, my baby bro, Nicholas Sean . . . You four are everything! I am so very proud of you! It is an honor to be your sister. Aunt Beda . . . Thank you for your faith and for serving as a creative muse. This story happened because of you. To Jaz, thanks for reading the rough drafts! Your excitement motivated me to keep going! Uncle Henry, I cannot tell you how important you are to me. Papa and Grandma Gloria, your Wade wrote a book. LOL. Thank you for filling my memory with encouraging words. I love you both so very much. Goodness, there are so many, I could not possibly name you all . . . that would be a whole otha book but thank you! Singing: “We are family . . .” I carry each of you with me into this new phase of my life. To the man that managed to love me more than himself, the father of my two children and the sole heir to my forever: Anthony, thank you for being my rock, my friend. I love you. And to everyone that participated directly or indirectly in my growth as a woman and as a writer . . . thank you.
There are many talented people in this space we call Earth, but not everyone is granted the opportunity to fully express their divine gifts in the capacity that I have. N’Tyse, you opened the door for me to step into a new me. For the 15 millionth time, thank you for being so open, giving, and honest. Thank you for offering this platform and sharing your energy. AMTP will always be home. Indie Love, you are the most awesome. Thank you for joining the WRYTES fan club. LOL. I appreciate your hard work, time, and effort you dedicate to my vision.
Last but not least, to you, my WRYTERS, thank you for investing in me! I promise always to give you my absolute best. I sincerely appreciate you taking this time to vacate your reality and enter the one I have fashioned for you. I hope you enjoy yourself in these pages. I love you with everything I have, and a little more.
Yours truly,
Leiann B. Wrytes
Chapter 1
Lisa inhaled deeply, the cold autumn air filling her aching lungs. This moment had been a long time coming. She wondered if the earth felt her vibration; if he knew how much she needed this. She rose to her feet, anxiously awaiting her turn. Lisa had not intended on sharing this moment with so many, but out of all the people present, his was the only familiar face. The soft ground was porous, its delicate constitution nearly mirroring her fragile state of mind. Even in her flats, it was difficult to keep her
feet from sinking into the earth during the walk. The air felt different as she drew near to his side, each step speaking to the miracle of her living. Before long, it was time as she stood beside the man she had loved. She brazenly ran her fingers across his cold, full lips, and etched them along his square jawline. He was beautiful lying there.
As tears filled her eyes, she let them roam over his six-foot frame and drink in his chocolate features. It was certainly worth the wait. His wife had chosen well; his navy blue suit was impeccable. The brother was designed for Tom Ford. She stifled a moan as memories flooded her mind. She could still feel him. For a moment, she longed for more time before dismissing the thought as quickly as it came. As she turned to leave, she shot a quick glance at the weeping widow. The poor girl didn’t know the man she married. She chuckled at the thought and raised her face to the peeking sun. The rays highlighted her caramel complexion. A smile found its way out as she departed the funeral grounds. She sighed with relief. The bastard was dead . . . and Lisa was free.
Three weeks earlier ...
Lisa sat on the edge of the bed and fumbled with the zipper on her dark denim jeans. She had spent the better half of the last thirty minutes vainly trying to repair it. She looked out the window and admired the view from the penthouse suite. She was impressed. The soft white sand against the beautiful blue Caribbean Sea made for a truly breathtaking scene. Charlie caught her by surprise with this, but the trip was only prolonging the inevitable. Their getaways were becoming too commonplace, risky, but Lisa could never turn down a trip to Saint Maarten. She felt like the air wrapped itself around her there. She could only guess that was why Charlie suggested it.
Charlie began as a random Instagram snapshot, and it would’ve ended with their drunken dance beneath sheets had Lisa not received a special request every day for three weeks. Though she should have probably been alarmed by the persistent, nearly stalker vibe, she was turned on by it, instead. Giving up on zipping her jeans, Lisa walked out onto the balcony. There was something about the water that gave her peace. She lost her thoughts in the waves. Frank. She was missing Frank, her husband. For a second, she wondered how she had arrived at this intersection in her life, a point where no available direction seemed optimal.
Lisa hoped it was not too late to go back. Charlie might have had her singing a sweet melody in the early-morning hours, but Charlie was no Frank. Frank alone had the power to alter her soul if he cared enough to try. Lisa loved Frank, but he failed her. Frank lost his ambition, his drive. She had big plans before she met Frank. Plans before her heart nestled with his and on the eve of the big “4-0,” she felt like her life was losing its hue. Frank had only managed to provide her with moments of greatness when she wanted a lifetime.
Those two words, “I do,” changed everything. They changed Frank. Frank was a six-foot-four bronzed demigod. He was gorgeous, and for two decades, she’d been waiting for her husband to wow her, waiting for the all-consuming fire that she dreamed her marriage would be. Frank was the kind of man movies were made of, the kind that melted in your mouth. She just knew her life would be amazing, but that fire never really blazed. The memory was still fresh; still hurt. After only one week of marital bliss, Frank made a decision that changed their lives forever.
The Masons weren’t ready to be parents, and since they had planned to honeymoon for a year via a private cruise around the world, they were obviously aware of this truth. Their parentage was a stipulation, a business move. It may have seemed cruel, heartless, but their lifestyle was one they individually and, in this case, collectively, went to great lengths to maintain. Frank proposed after a mere three months of dating, but Lisa didn’t mind. She was relieved. Lisa Raine had plans for that 20 million; falling in love simply sweetened the deal. A chill tickled the skin, her black lace spaghetti strap, top left, exposed, causing the tiny hairs covering it to rise, but it wasn’t the warm island wind that made her hold her arms for comfort. It was the thought of that day. Lisa would never forget it.
Mr. and Mrs. Mason went to meet with their attorney and friend, Jacob Wilson, expecting to sign a few papers to finalize the acquisition of Frank’s inheritance. They were anxious to begin their happily ever after when Wilson revealed an unexpected brick wall:
The money would be released upon the birth of a child.
Lisa felt like she’d been blindsided by an armored truck. Had she not been sitting, she would have fainted with the news. Frank was stoic, however, like he’d known all along. The happy couple rode home in silence. They had never discussed children—ever, but it wasn’t the news of the child that now turned her stomach into knots. It was Frank’s reaction. Frank didn’t speak a word for nearly a week, not even hello or good-bye. Lisa still wasn’t privy to the details, but one day, Frank came home with a new baby girl. In the blink of an eye, everything changed. Lisa grew to love Brianna, but women generally had nine months to prepare mentally, emotionally, and physically for motherhood.
Frank gave her twenty-four hours.
He was cold, calculating. Too much for her comfort. The shimmer that she was accustomed to seeing was missing from his hazel eyes when he told her about the adoption. Every fiber of her being screamed out that something was amiss, but she made her peace with it and raised Brianna with all the love she could muster. There was no way she was walking away from her new life. She tried her best to give Brianna what she had not been afforded as a child. Though her many efforts to conceive with Frank had not been rewarded, she was proud of the intelligent young woman Brianna had become. Frank, however grand a father, had grown to be an absent husband over the years. He had slowly disappeared and withdrew from their marriage, a few broken promises at a time.
At the budding of the Mason family, the three would travel together. They shopped in Milan and vacationed in Paris. Brianna had been to Italy, Greece, and Egypt before she turned five years old. They spent countless nights in exotic places. Once Brianna reached school age, they slowed down, traveled less, and eventually stopped altogether. Frank would go months without even touching Lisa, barely showing any interest. His every waking hour was consumed with Brianna. Although Lisa was not the jealous type, long stints of celibacy were cancerous to a marriage.
On the contrary, she enjoyed the time they spent together as a family. Frank seemed to come back to life whenever Brianna was in the room. Lisa recalled a rare twinkle in his eye, and in those flashes, a hint of the man she married would push forth. It gave her hope that perhaps all wasn’t lost, but those times were too infrequent for her tastes. There was only so much a woman could take before she drafted a new plan. For the next sixteen years, Lisa worked her plan: she’d give him what he needed and get what he wouldn’t give her elsewhere . . . anywhere.
Lost in her thoughts, Lisa didn’t hear Charlie come in and nearly leaped from the balcony at the feel of a gentle hand on the small of her back. Startled, she turned to meet Charlie’s gaze and immediately felt naked underneath those doelike eyes. She quickly offered her lips to quiet her own questions. Charlie was not an imposing figure at five foot nine and a mere 130 pounds, but there was something that was always present in their time together that jarred Lisa. Charlie seemed to know things about Lisa that were only known to a select few. Charlie took her by the hand and led her to the bed—Lisa pushed the implications out of her mind. There was no way Charlie could know the truth.
Was there?
Chapter 2
“Armand, get out!”
“MK, I don’t want to argue, OK? Just hear me out, please?” Armand pleaded.
Armand had never seen Michelle this upset and, frankly, it worried him. He slowly twisted the diamond-encrusted platinum band on his finger, ridding it of the sweat that coated his large hands. Nothing rattled Armand. Life had shaped his mind to anticipate, acclimate, and execute. Reality had caught him by surprise only once in his life, and the band was a constant reminder. It was the only symbol of a mother’s love he owned, and the only piece of jewelry he wore; in th
is way, they traveled together. He carried that memory with him. His fiddling with it clearly showed that the situation with Michelle had really gotten to him.
There were things about Armand that Michelle Kaye had not been aware. Some of which, if divulged, would nullify this argument, but releasing that information could put Michelle at greater risk. His employers had a reputation that gave him access, and the freedom, to run in circles that could be dangerous for the average man. Lately, he had found it increasingly difficult to meet the requirements of the task he was hired to do. Though his employers had never threatened him, he did not think they would respond well to his failure. His moves were a calculated attempt to soften their expectation and buy him more time to sort it all out. Things had been going as expected. Armand had been very careful not to take things too far, but Sheila’s antics rubbed Michelle the wrong way, and she was clearly on the verge of exploding. If he were a lesser man, he’d find that five-foot-six, fake-ass Taraji P. Henson and reshape her face. Not only did she fail to avoid Michelle as she left their condo—as instructed—but she ran into her, literally.
Michelle had pulled into the garage and parked in her usual spot. She gathered her things, safeguarded her Audi with the key fob, visually mapped out the quickest path through the maze of cars to the elevator, and started her trek. She began mentally preparing for the meeting scheduled with a potential client with mechanized precision, though it was still a few hours away, as she leisurely made her way to the elevator leading up to her condo. She weaved her way between the rows of cars, easily navigating the cold terrain of tires and plastic . . . when something grabbed her attention.
She paused to lay eyes on the owner of the shoulder-length blond, wavy weave whose whip action had interrupted her thoughts. Michelle felt an immediate familiarity that both intrigued and annoyed her. Even though several rows of cars separated them, Michelle was certain she knew her and could not help but stare as she sashayed through the parking lot. Click, click, click . . . The sound echoed off the walls marking each moment her heels connected with the cement floor. Michelle deviated from her route and opted for one that would allow her to walk by the woman, permitting her to get a closer look at her face. She was so focused on the girl that she failed to notice the car idling by with its reverse lights on. As Michelle got close enough to get a decent look, the driver suddenly gunned the engine and quickly backed out of its parking spot. To avoid being hit, Michelle quickly scurried to the left, placing her directly in the woman’s path. Ol’ girl, unfortunately, was not paying attention, and the two collided.
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