Black Queen, Dark Knight

by Amarie Avant

  So luckily, it was just Burt and I until my little brother was old enough to tag along.

  As I think about Luxury and her mother’s relationship, I can’t help but admire her. To have been so close to a parent; how valuable is that? While Lux and her mother did coupon shopping and baked cookies, I learned to be a better hunter–whenever father came around. I’ve grown and transformed into the man I am today, with Burt’s caring and Father’s cunning.

  It’s a dreary October. The sky threatens of rain, but the lush green rolling lawns to the left go as far as the eye can see. Sidney Golf Course is sparse of players on such a crisp day and the tennis courts around us aren’t even half as active. All the blue bloods of New York are huddled inside of the vast palace like Sidney building, or having a drink and a cigar on the veranda.

  “Look at you, Duke of Arlington, if Mother could see you now.” Graham gives me a brotherly hug and a smile on his baby face. I snatch the tags off of his new tennis uniform. At 24, my kid brother thinks the world of himself. He wears designer shirts with logos, just to remind him of his name.

  “Well, if Mother saw you here, she would be appalled all the same, Graham.” I take a deep breath. Prince Graham has no royal tasks to consider. With the Queen’s many children and grandchildren, we’re at the bottom of the totem pole when it comes to succession to the throne. Yet, as the second son, Graham is free to roam the world, and do as he pleases. It wouldn’t kill him to accompany mother to a few royal remembrances and processions, but he doesn’t. So, I ask, “How long have you been in the States?”

  Graham laughs at me as we unzip our tennis equipment at the Sidney Members only club–this might be the only part of our visitation that Mother would approve of.

  “I have a few homes here, Vic. One in Martha’s Vineyard, another in Beverly Hills and one in Vegas–"

  “No, Graham, you do not own any assets in Vegas,” Graham’s butler replies, standing like a penguin statue on the sidelines.

  “I stand corrected,” Graham nods. “Almost bought this 50,000 square foot mansion in Vegas. Oh, now I remember, I had this blond totty to the left and a redheaded totty to the right after getting out of my Bugatti. Breasts the size of melons, they thought it would make a good deal,” he shrugs.

  I opt not to shake my head at my little brother’s financial clutch. Having money puts him in this role of having to impress women. My investment team has grown about 300 years of D’ Ross’ funds while Graham could blow it all in one day–in addition to forgetting how.

  We get started on a game and the flashy chap bro can’t even keep up. He’s lean looking, and at 6’2, just slightly taller than I. He's neither fat nor skinny, only medium build and enough skin not to be called pale white flubber boy. Graham was a late bloomer if you could call him that, sounding like a bitch until he was way past his teens, balls having dropped at the old age of 17. He had been fat, with titties, and now he just gets by as a beta male with vicious ambitions of being an alpha male, thus the cheating and tossing money around all the time.

  Hell, I got more of a sweat teaching Lux about different sex positions. Her sexy body is still on my mind, as I whack the tennis ball with all of my might. Swoosh it goes. Instead of hitting it back, Graham ducks down.

  I grimace, because I usually take it easy on him.

  “Fuck, Vic!” Graham grumbles. He wipes the sweat from his brow, and slowly gets up.

  “Get the fucking ball, Graham,” I order. “Run wanker run,” I mumble as he goes jogging down the lush green landscape to apprehend the flyaway ball.

  “You arse!” My kid brother shouts, and then starts back in a huff, complaining about how this was too much on his back. Once Graham was born when I was 11, Mother finally set her sights on preparing me for the royal assignment, realizing that Father wouldn’t. So, I worked hard, got a couple black eyes Graham was just old enough to catch Father’s attention when irritated. My sacrifice was all for the sake of keeping my little brother safe. Now he’s sheltered, knows nothing about organization or health as he walks over. Instead of getting into stance to continue playing, he comes around the net.

  I snap and say, “I haven’t won yet.”

  “Mr. Confident.” he shoves the ball into my hand. “You win! Now, let’s eat.”

  “I’m not hungry yet, Graham,” I reply in a tensed voice.

  “Bloody hell, don’t be beastly, Victor, lets…”

  “We aren’t playing golf, right now, either,” I quickly reply knowing Graham would want to play anything with fewer movements. “It’s 6-0, lil bro. Serve.”

  “Hey, I have one point, Victor! Remember that hit, it was awesome, a backhand–” he wags a finger at me for emphasis to imply that the measly one point is of all importance.

  Though it’s more debatable than not I say, “Okay, Graham 6-1.”

  After deciding to give my brother another two points, I take the bottle of mineral water that Burt has on standby.

  “Replenish up,” I tell my brother, but he’s heading over to our gear.

  “In a second, Vic. Let me tell you about this girl I met. She’s in love with me,” he begins to brag about a redhead he met last night when at the club. Now he’s ready to see if she wants him. Instead of checking his own phone, Graham snatches up mine. “Looky, what do we have here?”

  Before I can tell him not to, Graham answers my phone. “Well hello, Luxxxxx,” he says, having looked at the screen name.

  Graham places his hand over the receiver and mouths, “Bugger off!” Before switching back to sounding like a tart, “…No, Lady Lux, this is not Victor, but I’m all about luxury, gorgeous. How about I come over?”

  The bottle of water flies from my hand to my little brother’s forehead. “FUCK!” he screams. “The bottle cap hit me. That hurts Victor. I’m going to tell Mother!” He adds in the same tone as he had done as a child.

  I snatch the phone away. “Hello, Little One, how’s my beautiful girl doing?”

  “Ummm, who was that? I think he thought I was some type of prostitute–”

  “No, no,” I try to clean up the situation quickly, “That’s my kid brother, Graham. He’s not all there in the head.” I glare through Graham as he rubs a red mark on his paste-white forehead.

  Lux

  For the past few days, I’ve worried that Victor wouldn’t call me back. To imagine the things we have done together makes my body instantly tingle, and my cheeks warm.

  Dad thinks I spent the weekend at Aliyah’s, so it’s hard to ask him if he’s bumped into Dr. Finch while en route to his office at Greco Technologies.

  And now that Victor had me ruminating over Mom, I’m beginning to think about the morsels of wisdom she used to say. She was even more knowledgeable than a Pinterest board of quotes for every moment in life. She’d caress my cheek after I had been called polka-dot face in elementary. She had said, “One day you will meet someone who makes you realize how beautiful you truly are…” Mom would make me feel these words no matter how loudly the class laughed at the jokes.

  So, I ponder Gina’s words about me giving myself, totally and utterly to Victor. Oh, the absolute vulnerability of it. She had this speech of sorts, a reminder to take me out of my low self-esteem. She would say, “My dearest, Lux, I wish you courage to face challenges with confidence, wisdom to decide your battles, adventure on this journey we call life.” She would pause then kiss my tears away. “Oh, these are the sweetest freckles, Lux,” she would smile in a manner that only allowed you to follow suit. “Now listen to your heart, weigh out risks. Lux, keep your heels, head, and standards high.”

  Well, we know I didn’t make do on the heels. Three inches is the most I can do. Mom was fit to be a model, could wear heels taller than Dad and even jokingly said she missed wearing them while whisking brownie batter. Even with smidgens of chocolate and flower on her apron, there was never such a sight as Gina Whitson.

  Being with Victor is an adventure. It is as if my body is transported to heaven or an altern
ate universe. And then he brings me back again each time I cum. I still wonder about the mystery surrounding him. Besides what is available online, only Victor’s commanding behaviors are within my grasp.

  Do I know him?

  Is it wise to lose myself and feel so totally consumed during sex with someone that I didn’t know anything about? Anyway, for the past 3 days, my mind has been inundated with the way his dick made my body sing. And I just knew that maybe the weekend with him was all I’d be gifted with in this lifetime.

  Victor’s little bro invites me over. So, I stand at my closet ruffling through the different items, knowing that I have absolutely nothing to wear. I notice the Manolo box and the dress box that the Butler sent me away with the last time I saw Victor. It seems they don’t allow returns, so I slip the Versace dress over my fresh, dewy skin. The navy-blue number stops right at mid-thigh and is more flattering than hoe-ish. Hadn’t even notice that it has these shimmery flecks of gold and earth tone colors in the silk that also complement me more than I anticipated. Again, I look at the gigantic red-bottom shoes. I consider that there is no way I can wear them. Thinking of Victor, I try to stand up in them.

  Wow, so that’s what the air feels like 6 inches taller.

  I look at myself in the mirror and bust up laughing, feeling like I’m about to break my ankles. I quickly take them off and place on my newest pair of kitten heels.

  I open my bedroom door and slowly creep down the stairs, knowing Dad’s routine to a T. It’s Thursday, there are reruns on TV. He’s chuckling heartily as I slip my coin purse beneath my arm and tries to quietly get to the front door.

  “Lux, you’re missing it. I already got the popcorn ready, and there are marshmallows melting in your hot cho…” Dad turns around on key, almost swallowed up in his lazy boy chair. He looks me up and down. “Well, you look beautiful, way too beautiful to be sitting here with your old dad.”

  “Hey…”

  I’m 22, and yes Dad tries not to be intrusive. So, it takes a second for him to ask my evening plans.

  “Well, I’m going out with uh… Doctor Finch,” my eyes rivet away. I’ve had all of two boyfriends in the past. There was prom boy, if you could consider him as such, though he did take my virginity, so I might as well call him boyfriend number 1. And then there was Arnold, so I feel uncomfortable.

  “Hmmm, enjoy yourself, Lux. Stay warm.” Dad watches as I smile and leave.

  I knock on the suite door and meet Graham. I know he's sweeter than a graham cracker. He’s just that nice, as he welcomes me with warmth. Graham has this aura about him as if he’s a good guy.

  “Wow, look at you,” he says at a loss for words.

  “Thank you,” I smile. Graham has this kind of softness about him. Then two seconds later, I’m positive that I’ve read him wrong as he tries to flirt with me.

  My eyes search the entire living area for Victor. Clearly, he’s not around, but I’m on pause as Graham turns into a little player. “Ummm…”

  Graham better keep his little rolling eyes in his sockets, but he stares me up and down. Before I can tell him off, I feel Victor’s presence even before I turn around and see him stepping into the room. Behind him lives sanctuary where he made love to my body all weekend long.

  Victor is ever the governing force in another black on black suit. It adds to his mysteriousness. He resembles an undercover operative or secret services to the Royal majesty in England. It all makes my panties wet, just wondering what kind of crazy things would happen if this doctor was indeed a spy. Not that I’m saying his intelligence doesn't do anything for me. Nope. Doctor Victor Finch is every checked box that any woman could possibly desire.

  Two hours later, my thoughts have changed. We’ve made it to a rooftop club and the woman that Graham couldn’t stop talking about–who he met while at Starbucks this morning–finally meets up with us. Her name is Suyoung. The Japanese woman’s skin is milky-white. She has dark eyes and jet-black hair that flows down her back. Suyoung is nothing less than beautiful.

  Since it’s a chilly fall night, the fire pits are set on low. The liquor flows endlessly and adds to the warmth of the surroundings. We sit on large white wicker chairs in a VIP area that surrounds the entire club. A few wild flowers adorn the edges of the rooftops. I gaze up at the skyscrapers around us. They’ve somehow managed a setup that can block out some of that chill.

  Bruno Mars has most of the ladies on the dance floor, except for a select few who think they’re competition enough to flock around our table. If not for Suyoung, they all make me uneasy, with their buzzard like mentality. However, the boys flank either side of us, but you can tell that Suyoung wants Victor even as she sits next to me.

  Victor has already tried to get me to dance with him. But if I don’t look him in the eyes, he can’t make me do anything. He’s paying for the fact that all these chicks on top of this building want him!

  “Lux,” he starts to ask if I want to dance again. I don't respond. When he tries to pull that move like he did after eating half a meal at ‘Beef’, I turn and strike up a conversation with Suyoung.

  “I’m enjoying myself,” she replies to my question, apparently not knowing that it’s disrespectful to talk to someone but not give them your attention.

  Graham is on the opposite side of her, looking so utterly left out, as her eyes have been on Victor entirely. Then another woman comes to ask for a seat.

  “Sure,” Victor replies.

  “So,” I begin to Suyoung, as my lips tense with anger that Victor is flirting with another woman right next to me. Or rather, allowing her to flirt with him.

  “I want to dance,” Suyoung says, and stands up abruptly, giving the club a view of her white thong.

  I grab my flute of champagne and down the bitter drink. I’ve been trying to be cordial with this woman all night. I’m not a drinker, so hopefully the tipsiness can overtake the desire to pop Suyoung upside her head.

  “Yyy… yesss… Suyoung.” Graham starts to get up. As I drown myself in another glass, I finally understand how the sweet guy had turned into a little creepy at the hotel. He is so unsure of himself. If he should flirt, grab a boob, or be that sweet guy I feel that he is somewhere deep within.

  “No, not with you. Graham, I want to dance with your brother,” Suyoung replies. Though Usher is crooning loud and clear, you can physically hear Graham’s spirit crushing. Victor shrugs and gets up. Now this self-centered bastard won’t even look me in the eye as he takes Suyoung’s hand.

  “Graham…” I begin as tears come to my eyes. Not being much of a drinker, I’ve been mellowed out to the point of waterworks.

  “I’m sorry,” he apologizes.

  “What have you done wrong?” I ask, eyebrows kneading together. Yes, Graham really is a sweet guy. He just comes on too strong, all in an attempt to have a grain of his older brother’s charm.

  Trying to hold back a sob and a vivid image of Victor making love to me, I look at the asshole and Suyoung and ask his brother, “Does Victor do this all the time?”

  Graham picks up his shot of vodka and takes it to the head quickly. “Vic, uhhh, he just does what he does.”

  Victor

  Suyoung has a sleek body and it’s cool to the touch as she molds into my arms. The music changes as we get up. I initially consider whisking her further into the crowd, so as not to be the focal point for my brother and angry date.

  “Hello, Victor, long time no see,” Suyoung says in this silky Japanese dialect. Our conversation is exclusive.

  “Yes, very… long… time,” I reply dryly, brushing up on the language.

  “Cute little girl on your shoulder’s this evening. I thought you liked them taller, exotic…” Her thin eyebrow rises.

  “If you like breathing, you will refrain from ever mentioning Luxury again,” I assure Suyoung as my hand grips the small of her back.

  From appearances, Suyoung is flirtatiously laughing at my warning. That annoying chuckle ends with a sigh, and then she
nestles her cheek onto my chest. “Remember that one time in Rome. Best fuck that me and Fuyoung ever had.”

  “I don’t recall.” I give a half smile, and there goes the laughter again. Now I know Luxury’s eyes are boring holes into the back of my suit as I speak with one part of the Siamese twins. Suyoung and Fuyoung represent a Japanese assassin duo. I keep my attention on her, instead of looking around for Fuyoung.

  “Oh, you don’t remember? When I handled that witness for the US presidential scandal,” Suyoung brags, while brushing her cheek ever so softly against my chest and sighing deeply from her throat in a cat like manner. The effect has my sword at attention. She licks her lips in awareness. “Your scent is to die for.”

  “Yes, that witness,” I reply. “The presidential mark didn’t hold my attention; though I had ample time to kill him. Instead, I enjoyed so many women’s company in Rome that I didn’t even remember fucking the two of you.”

  A thunderstorm forms in her dark eyes. “Ha ha ha ha, well, you won’t forget that Luxury is going to die–”

  Before she can finish the sentence, I administer a lethal injection from a serum in my Rolex watch. It connects with the softly pulsating carotid artery at her neck. Suyoung’s body tenses as the liquid fire goes scorching through her veins. Suyoung becomes paralyzed and slumps into my arms. First her extremities fail, then her organs, and lastly her heart.

  “Take her toward the west exit of the rooftop,” Burt’s voice fills my Bluetooth. “I’m already looking for the little minx’s twin.”

  “Bravo Burt,” I reply, with a frown, though my butler is always around when need be. As we begin to exit the crowd, Suyoung appearing to be a very drunken, beautiful dark angel in my arms. Virtually nobody passing by pays attention, except a few women who had flirted with me on my way to the VIP section with Luxury, Graham, and his evil little date.