a girl drenched in emotional scars and a rapper tangled by toxic demons are forced to face their legal issues together. Little did they know of the sparks they'd electrify within each other.
warning: profanity/drugs/death referrences
highest rank: #...
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|JASMINE SANDERS|
The breezy air carried a light and flowery aroma into my room. I assumed I left my window open the night before. However, as I opened my eyes, I realized I wasn't even in my bedroom.
There was no pink. Just leafy greens and oranges. There were no pictures hung on the wall. Instead of a soft carpet, there were dreadful Brazilian floors.
It was then I realized, I was in Gavin's bedroom. That filthy piece of shit must have brought me from my aunt's house to his mansion. I groaned, hatred rumbling aggressively in my stomach.
In came, Gavin. His eyes a mix of brown and green, his golden skin radiating with evilness and a smirk stained on his lips.
"Good morning my princess." He leaned in for a kiss but, I pushed him away.
"What am I doing here?" I growled.
"I need you to sign something, sweety." His words may have been caring but, his voice was drenched in wickedness.
"Go to hell Gavin. You know damn well you have no lawyer to help you with a contract."
He laughed, sitting at the edge of the bed. I scooted further away from him, just in case he tried to make a move.
"You're right but, by the laws of the street this contract is valid--and you know I'm the king of the streets,"
I kept my eyes focused on the blank wall, refusing to pay him any attention.
"So sign it!" He snapped, his voice became venomous.
Unlike most people who knew him, I wasn't afraid of him. If I didn't follow his rules he would try to screw me over but, my entire life was as screwed as it could get.
"Don't you have some decency to at least explain to me what I'm signing? Oh yeah, that's right--you have no decency."
"Bitch, you better watch it cυz you know I can have my boys come in and shoot you!"
I'm not falling for his corny ass threats.
"I'm not scared because you're not strong enough to shoot me yourself," I rolled my eyes.
Flustered, he pulled out a pen and the paper I assumed to be the contract, "The contract tells you that at the BET awards at the start of next year, I'm going to publicly ask you a question and you have to say yes."
