by Amarie Avant
Mila settled back down in her seat. She had explained to the judges and the entrants in Nkem’s age group about her recent modeling job and that they’d need to choose two winners should Nkem technically win, which everyone agreed was fair.
There was a drum roll as the judge, Reese Zacarro, owner of Flour Bakery, in Downtown Los Angeles, stood. She was sitting between Zenobia and the other business owner.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Reese said into her microphone. “We would first like to thank all of the beautiful young ladies. You have truly given us something to think about this evening. Each and every one of you are multi-talented and designed to prosper.”
Nkem and the rest of the teens on the stage stood with heads held higher than they’d ever been and smiles on their faces.
“And while we would love to give you all first-place honors and scholarships to a school of your choice, there were not one but two of you who stole the entire show,” she said. She paused for dramatic effect. “Jenna Hernandez!” The entire auditorium began clapping.
Mrs. Hernandez jumped up from her seat and pumped her fist into the air. Jenna, a sixteen-year-old from Montebello, had started coming to The People’s Love Project after her boyfriend, who was in a Mexican gang, died. It warmed Mila’s heart, knowing that her mother had prayed for the best for her daughter. Jenna had wowed the crowd with a short skit about Día de los Muertos.
Once the room became silent again, Reese spoke. “Now, the young lady who was neck and neck with Ms. Jenna and stole all of our hearts tonight was none other than—Nkem Obuh.”
With the sound of his mother’s name being called, Nkem’s son shot from the crowd, where he was sitting with Stacy, and onto the stage as the room clapped for them.
Blake took Mila’s hand, and they stood up. They started onto the stage. Desiree stepped up to Mila as Blake went for the microphone. Quietly, she said, “Mila, I know Nkem and Jenna were like, straight up much better at this than any of the rest of us. But I wasn’t even going to come up here today and try. You made me try.” Desiree had her arms around Mila in a hug before she could even speak.
Mila spoke into Desiree’s ear. “Oh, sweetheart, that’s all we can do in this world. Try and do our best. If you’ve done that, you’ve made it.”
“I know,” Desiree croaked. “And my two kids, I swear they have never looked at me like they did tonight. Thank you. Thank you. I’m sorry; I should’ve said this later.”
“It’s okay, sweetie.” Mila held her hand for a second and then moved to stand next to Blake, who had the mic and was about to give a speech.
“Tonight, my beautiful, soon-to-be wife has shown me just how good a person could be.” Blake began. He mentioned some of his upbringing, and for a few minutes, the crowd was mesmerized by the story he told. “So, because I’ve found a woman that reminds me that the world isn’t all bad, I don’t believe that rewarding just two of these talented, young women will do. Mila said there had to be a clear-cut winner, but this is just the start of me putting my foot down.”
“Oh, don’t believe the hype. The day I met Blake Baldwin all he did was make demands.” Mila cut in.
“That’s what a real man does. He identifies what’s best, and all of you young, beautiful women—do not ever settle for a man who is a little in, a little out, a little hot, a little cold.”
“Amen,” shouted a few folks from the crowd.
“Every young woman on this stage will receive scholarships for their first year of college.”
The girls began to clap and cheer.
“Given that you make 3.0 grade point averages. That’s all I ask.” Blake said.
With the room in elated chaos, Mila held him tightly. She couldn’t wait to be his wife. Blake was everything she needed after all the sadness she had endured in this world.
Blake
Shanghai, China
The last couple of days had been a whirlwind. They’d arrived at the Imperial Hotel yesterday. Since the bride and groom had their own suites, it was easy for Blake to check on Lamb, who had stashed Lido in a third room. If Lido got out of line anytime during the events leading up to their wedding, he’d decided to have Lamb snuff her out. The People’s Love Project had just attested to how good of a woman Mila was. Blake knew his wife deserved to have what she wanted, which meant Lido would stand in on photo ops beginning tonight at the bridal shower. And she’d do it with a smile.
He took a deep breath while working at his tie in Mila’s suite. The room had ponds, bonsai trees, and bridges throughout that maximized the lavishness of the aesthetics.
“Gotdamn, you fine,” Mila joshed, planting herself behind him. Her head rested on the broad planes of his back.
“Choice words from my good girl.” He slid his arm back and around Mila, who was wearing white lace panties and bra. His cock became hard instantly as he pulled her tiny, curvaceous body in front of him. His chin rested on her freshly pressed hair. “And why aren’t you dressed?”
“Baby, this is the first day of the rest of our lives. I must purposefully be late.”
“Purposefully?” He reached down to bite her lip.
“Yes.” Mila smacked his lips with a hard kiss. “I love it when we go out, and you search the crowd for me. No matter how dominating you are in bed. Smacks. Bondage. I have the upper hand when I walk in the room.”
“Now that’s strategy.” He nodded. He headed to the door.
Mila strutted back to the bed. She crawled over the mattress like a lioness, stalking its prey. With sparkling eyes, she gazed back at him, making sure he was watching her ass.
He winked. “You’ll pay later.”
“Gladly,” she giggled, her legs rising and sliding apart.
“Get dressed, Mila.” He gritted out the words. Man, did he want the world to wait. Usually, he wouldn’t care about how much he delayed people, but he had to check on Lido. This is all for you, baby.
“Okay, it’ll take me a second to dress. I’m not wearing much.”
“If you don’t think I’ll approve—”
“You’ll love it.”
“Of course, I will, baby. But I’ll spank you good if what you’re wearing tonight is too revealing.” At that, Blake closed the door to their hotel room. His lengthy strides took him to the room Lamb had reserved for the better part of the week.
With the spare key that Lamb had sent to him, Blake opened the door. He hadn’t gotten a foot inside when he was stopped. Gift bags and designer boxes lined the ground and were piled high. This was the cost of having blood attend a wedding of someone he or she loved. He hated it. Blake was paying dearly for it.
Lamb staggered from the bedroom in jeans and an army fatigue shirt. “She’s resting. We just got in from Milan as you can see.”
The grumpy scowl on Lamb’s face read that he couldn’t wait for the entire ordeal to end.
“Is she presentable?” Blake asked.
A grunt came as a response. “Rarely ever is.”
“Tell her to get up. Wear one of these new gowns she bought. Remind her to act like a lady, and the car is hers first thing Sunday morning.”
“Yeah. Thanks for reminding me that I’m stuck with this woman until the day after your wedding.”
Blake headed to the door.
“Oh, and . . .” Lamb began. Blake met him eye for eye sensing the seriousness of the moment. “My wedding gift to you and the misses came early.”
Blake’s eyebrow peaked. “That so?”
“Showers can be a dangerous place, Blake.”
Aware that Lamb had no intention of elaborating further, Blake grabbed the doorknob and opened the door.
Todd Welsh was dead.
Blake expected to feel a morsel of guilt. He didn’t.
That was for touching Mila.
***
The Oriental, the rooftop restaurant at the top of the hotel, had bejeweled walls with jade jewels in the shape of Oriental lilies throughout. The entire restaurant had been closed for the nigh
t’s event. Streaming down from the twenty-foot ceiling along the walls were jade crystals woven through the vines of oriental lilies. Even Blake was impressed by how enchanting the restaurant appeared. The exterior of the restaurant had a 360 balcony with a view of the nightlights and skyscrapers off in the distance.
Kiyota and his wife were about the only non-family member guests. After the customary bows, Kiyota handed over an envelope. “This is not work. It is a gift.”
“Oh, that is not necessary.” Blake started to hand it back, but Akari placed her hand over his.
“Please. You must accept. My family, we have customs. That is one.” She opened her diamond-studded purse and held out a tiny box. “The women in my family have another custom. Something for every day of the festivities. May I?”
It took Blake a second to realize that she would like to go to Mila’s room and give her the gift herself. He offered her room number, and Akari left their side.
“I’ll take a drink at the bar.” Kiyota excused himself as well, and Blake continued to check on his early arriving guests, which were most of Mila’s family.
Mila
There was a knock at the door. Mila’s hair was still in its silk wrap from when she took a shower. She grabbed a thick robe off the bed and headed for the door. She stood on tippy toes to look out the peephole.
Mila’s eyes brightened at the sight. “Father. Mama!”
They hugged in the hallway as Yasmin stood back with her oldest son, Lemuel.
“We had to see you before everyone else,” her dad said, hugging her again.
“You make them wait so long?” Her mother sighed. “Get dressed, my child.”
“I will go.” Her father backed away and flicked Lemuel’s ear. “Come, boy. Allow the women time to converse.”
“No.” Ms. Ali shook her head. “Yasmin and I will assist you with dressing. We are behind schedule,” she complained as her two daughters entered the hotel room with her.
Ms. Ali took a panoramic gander around the living room. “You are rich.” She sighed.
“And happy,” Mila added.
“Girl, Yes!” Yasmin closed the door. “What are you wearing tonight?”
The trio chatted about the wedding while going into the bedroom. Mila started to pick up the dress from the bed, but her oldest sister beat her to it. The white dress was designed to end at the thickest part of her hips, but streams of shredded silk material would hang down almost to her calves. Mila initially thought the outfit was too bold, or more fitting for salsa, but when she’d tried it on upon arrival, her mind was blown. It was just the kind of sexy, daring attire to remind everyone that the night belonged to her.
Yasmin held up the ensemble and took a few exaggerated steps back. “Where is Beyoncé? She needs to take notes.”
“We’ve had issues with a certain designer,” Mila said, “but this one was made for me last month when we visited. Blake’s business partner’s wife sent me to her designer. They took my measurements, and I forgot all about it until the dress came in the mail.”
“Wow, you didn’t have to pay?”
“Not a shiny penny.”
“Humph,” Mrs. Ali eyed the couture design wearily. “Where is the rest of it?”
KNOCK. KNOCK.
“I’ll get it.” Yasmin started for the bedroom door. “Please, dress. And close your ears to mother’s ways. Heck, if my kids could hear me now.”
Mila countered, “I could put on some Drake while I dress.”
Yasmin gave a wink implying that his rap music would get no argument from her.
“Can I see your wedding dress?” Mrs. Ali asked, meekly.
“Sure, Mama.” Mila headed to the closet. “Blake promised not to open this door.”
Her mother followed, and tears glossed her eyes. “Oh, my gorgeous Mila, you will be the most beautiful bride. I’m afraid to touch, and it’s all wrapped up. Are those—”
“Swarovski crystals.” Mila smiled.
“Oh, my and these feathers are plush.” As her mother fawned over the dress and gushed to her daughter, Yasmin entered the room. “There is a woman by the name of Akari at the door. She seemed very sweet and wanted to know if you had a moment to spare?”
“Sure. She’s the wife of Blake’s new business partner I just mentioned.”
“Well, let me see how generous she is. Hell, I can get my Beyoncé on too.”
“Don’t even try it,” Mila warned, following her out of the room.
She wasn’t positive about how to greet Akari, yet the hugger in her came out. “I have the dress. Thank you. Thank you.” Mila said letting her go.
“Good. I have something else for you. Do you remember my customs that I spoke to you about?”
“Yes.” Mila started to usher Akari inside when out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Lamb. And Lido.
Words stopped at the tip of Mila’s tongue.
“Hello, little sister!” Lido said in Somalian. She stalked past Akari. Though slim, the strut of her high heels and how she jutted her thin hips pushed the Japanese woman into Mila.
“This is my sis—”
“Oh, c’mon, now. Introducing me needs to lead with something a little more relevant. I am world-renowned Super Model, Lido Ali—”
“What are you doing?” Yasmin placed a hand on her hip as Mila righted Akari.
“Better known as billionaire Blake Baldwin’s new mistress. Damn, doesn’t that have a ring to it? It’s like a royal title. Blake’s Mistress.”
“We will be leaving now.” Lamb went to grab Lido’s hand.
“Don’t touch her!” Mila shouted.
“Must you be so disgusting?” Yasmin asked.
“A Mistress? A common whore? And you’re happy about it?” They all turned to see Mrs. Ali at the door to the bedroom. “In front of strangers, you’d make such a statement?”
Lido grinned from ear to ear. “Yes, Mother Dearest.”
Mila slowly began to remove the diamond solitaires from her ears and then the bracelet and her ring. As Yasmin cursed her sister, Mila pressed the jewels into her hands, which caused Yasmin to stutter, caught off guard.
“Be quiet!” Mila shouted.
“But she’s lying, Mila,” Yasmin said. “Blake is disgusted by her. Don’t believe this bullshit.”
“Tell me.” Mila’s voice had regained some semblance of calmness. “You are my fiancé’s new mistress?”
For a man who rarely carried on a conversation with her, Lamb spoke up. “Blake made her attend because you love her, Mila. That’s all.”
Mila chewed on her bottom lip in thought. Then she asked, “What does she get?”
Akari shifted from stiletto to stiletto, and her gaze slid to the floor in the awkward silence.
“Another mansion and a hot pink jet.” Lido grinned. “You believe it don’t you?”
“Yes. What else?”
“Your man. You always convinced me that I should be a model. I should’ve known it was to steal the royal!”
“The royal? I stole the royal? The cousin of Z’ier Yacob Farquadd,” Mila huffed the words. “Do you even remember your betrothed’s name? Hello? Do you remember the man’s name!”
“That’s not important—”
Mila shook her head. “Alright, next subject of why the little sister should be treated like shit? Alright, I told you to become a model? I helped you accomplish a goal that millions of young girls only dream of!” Her tone went from sarcastic to livid as she shouted, “I gave you magazines! Hello, Lido. You would pinch me when I was little. Told me to take those old fashion magazines from my friend’s mother when I would play at her house, or you’d threaten to pinch me again!”
“Doesn’t matter now, Mila.” Lido spoke in a soothing voice. “What does matter now, is that I get your husband. You know on those days when the two of you are at odds. You believe that?” Lido tossed the question like dirt in her baby sister’s face.
“Oh, yes. I believe it.” The lie came out as a m
urmur, numb and melancholic. It had hardly passed Mila’s lips when she lunged toward Lido. She didn’t believe for a second that Blake wanted her sister. There would’ve been no wedding, no engagement, no them—period—if he had eyes for anyone else but her.
Mila’s hands wrapped around Lido’s neck, gripping with a lifetime worth of vengeance as her source of strength. “I believe you are the best motherfucking sister when shit hits the fan,” she grunted, using all of her energy to squeeze Lido’s scrawny ass neck. “As evidenced by you handing over tissue after tissue when Warren died. I bet you secretly loved my pity party.”
Though her older sister won in the height factor, Lido didn’t have any extra weight. Her eyes were beginning to water, cheeks shaking. She wasn’t even able to gasp for a single ounce of air.
Mila held enough weight in her ass and hips to pen Lido down. Unable to get a hold of Mila’s forearms, Lido made the mistake of turning. Mila ended up on Lido’s back, pummeling her head and neck with an onslaught of fists.
“You want what’s mine?!” she screamed. “Then you can take this ass whooping!” Mila slapped her hand across the back of her head. Lido tossed her arms up, but Mila was seeing red and meeting her mark. “Every hit! Every pinch! Every time you stabbed me in the fucking back, bitch, you can have it all.”
In an instant, it was all over. Lamb gripped Mila by the waist. Her robe was falling apart. He kept his pale blue gaze averted.
Though there was sympathy in his tone, he also issued a command. “Stop. Please.”
Mila tried to get around him. “Get up. Fight me. That’s what you want because blood isn’t shit.”
Tears stung her eyes. Lamb held her at arm’s length. With Lido clasping at a bloody nose, he needed to attend to her. Lamb let go.
Yasmin caught Mila’s hand. The look on her face was one of sheer shock. It took her moments to utter the words, “Sister, Stop.”
“Fuck You, Yas!”
“What?”
Her mother was livid. “Mila, you are an embarrassment.”
Mila pulled off her toppled scarf. “I’m an embarrassment? Mom, you created a monster! All the years I missed with my father because you can’t churn the water! And I didn’t churn the fucking water—just like you. Me and you, mom, we are weak people. We are walked on. We don’t cause problems. We don’t churn the water!” Mila gestured with stiff fingers. “Oh, but you can play the background. I’ll forgive you for not knowing how psychotic this bitch really is! All I get from you is, ‘help Lido. I’m disappointed in you for not picking up this bitch from the hospital!’ No ‘Congrats on your engagement.’ No. Lido gets front and center. And you . . .” She turned to Yasmin. “You wanted this bitch in my wedding. You helped pit us against each other!”
