A debt has been incurred. And they've come to collect.
Vanessa Cruz is a young black woman, simply trying to survive in a world set up to conspire against her prosperity. Grinding Monday to Friday, and working Friday to Sunday left her no room to h...
The events of this chapter take place between CHAPTER XIV - COMPRENDE AND CHAPTER XV - SNAKESKIN
اوووه! هذه الصورة لا تتبع إرشادات المحتوى الخاصة بنا. لمتابعة النشر، يرجى إزالتها أو تحميل صورة أخرى.
ACT I - MY MAN, MY MAN, MY MAN... YA MAN LEFT YOU FOR DEAD HO! VANESSA
"I don't know, you know... I think they're together. Like for real." The sound of the young woman's voice filled the space were currently sharing, echoing off the walls of my business; a place she was currently trespassing in.
Her companion responded "No girl, it's not even giving all that. He's a commitment-phobe. Refused to even consider more than sex. And before you say anything, it's not just me. He hasn't claimed anyone, publicly, ever."
He certainly did have a reputation.
One that I had done the best to put out of my mind. These young ladies were doing a stellar job to bring it back to the fore though.
"Personally, I think she's more than just his assistant. They have this chemistry. And they look good together." The same way I tried not to let the detracting projections of others impact my self worth anymore, I also made an effort to not believe my own hype.
Too much.
Nonetheless, it was nice to hear someone unrelated to our situation comment on our perceived compatibility.
The soft smile that found my lips after her observation would be erased immediately by her friends rebuttal
"I didn't say that she wasn't trying. Her sneaky ass is probably hoping to get cuffed! Either way, I don't give a fuck. She's just another thot as far as I'm concerned. She thinks she's hot shit, just because she gets to go in the boardroom with him? He gon' do her like he has the rest of us."
The unwarranted distaste for me was clear to hear.
At first, overhearing the whispers that preceded my entrance and followed my exit of a room got to me. I wasn't a particularly sensitive girl, but as someone who didn't have any ill-will against others in my heart, I found it hard to understand how people could produce such disparaging and hurtful narratives about me.
I'd heard it all. I was a puta, a bedwarmer, an clout-chaser and now, I could add "thot" to the list.
Today, the words that were meant to lacerate, simply rolled off my back. I had come to accept this as part of the gift and curse of privacy. Ultimately, my involvement in the business being shielded from the view of civilians was ideal. I knew how quickly word spread, and I didn't need my name popping up in the wrong conversations. However, it meant I couldn't clarify any of the rumours that swirled around about my relationship with Angelo.
And I didn't need to. Because that's all they were. Rumours.
Stories people told to entertain themselves, and others. The versions of me that lived in the minds of others weren't real. And I could have done anything; down to breaking my NDA to try and repair my reputation, but the bottom line was that it wouldn't have mattered. My truth was a sad one. A story of enemies to misguided lovers. Of me fighting for financial freedom. It was one that wasn't quite as racy or scandalous as the idea that I was trying to become the America's Next Top Mob Wife.
