Beyoncé grew up in the rough streets of third ward Texas with little to no support or resources. She quickly had to learn how to survive on her own, hustle and provide for not only herself but her little sister.
She soon owned a night club in Texas...
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"Mmm... can you go a bit lower and massage my neck?" Bey said softly as she felt, Marissa put her body at ease.
"Yes, I can," Marissa said softly. Kissing up Beyoncé's neck and massaging her ever so gently.
Her body almost immediately began to feel at ease. The woman's touch always puts her in the right place.
"you want a manicure, mamas?" Bey said as she took a look at Marissa's nail that was chipped. "I can't have you handling my money like this."
Marissa nodded and sat on Beyoncé's lap. Rubbing her face. "Yes, daddy."
"Okay... I'll send the payment over this afternoon, and a little something for lunch and getting your hair done." Bey lovingly said as she pulled Marissa in for a kiss.
"You're my favorite girl you know that?" Bey said gently. "I love you so much."
Marissa nodded, going in for another kiss, deepening it more than the other. Chills came over her body as she gradually began to French kiss her lover and boss, their tongues intertwining and moans escaping through the room. Only to be interrupted by Beyoncé's right-hand man.
"I love you too," Marissa said softly.
"Yo King B... we got some visitors & they didn't schedule to meet up with you." An assistant said as he began observing her office making sure she was straight.
"Did they mention their name?" Bey asked.
She was still rubbing up and down Marissa's thigh as she spoke.
Marissa was completely focused on counting Bey's money that was made from the day before. In an attempt to unwind Bey took a sip of champagne and leaned into her chair further, watching the money counter do its own thing.
"Nah but I can always go back, and ask." The man said shakingly.
Beyoncé rolled her eyes and shooed him away. "That's a great fucking idea, Markell, go handle that shit. Tell them ain't nobody coming up here unannounced. And Jamal needs to go with you in case you need protection."
Her assistant Markell nodded and headed back downstairs to relay the message.
Beyoncé sat back in her chair, wearing a slight smirk of satisfaction. She had built her empire from the ground up, and she wasn't about to let anyone disrupt her kingdom. As she admired her opulent office, she took another sip of champagne and let out a contented sigh.
She trusted Markell to handle the situation. He had been with her for years, always reliable and efficient. Plus, with Jamal by his side, she knew they would handle any potential threat with ease. Bey had no time for games or unexpected visits from strangers. She had worked too hard to allow anyone to disrupt her carefully crafted lifestyle.
