AT WHAT COST?

BONUS CHAPTER II - ALL LOVE / IMMORTAL

The events of this chapter take place between CHAPTER XIV - COMPRENDE AND CHAPTER XV - SNAKESKIN

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.

So I let them have it.

My train of thought was interrupted by the voice of the second girl repeating her point in a seeming effort to reassure herself. "She's definitely not his main chick. He's never mixed business with pleasure. Bitch, he cut me off just for going to see him at his office! And he told me I was his favourite!" Hmm, that was some piping hot tea.

"I still can't believe you fumbled that fuckin' bag!" The statement wasn't granted a verbal response, but I could certainly imagine it being dismissed by a quick roll of the eye 

"You know it's true! Anyways, she? She's playing it cool. But Leone? He's on her body. He hasn't taken his eyes off her all night! I believed you when you said you could get him back, but I'm not so sure now, Miss Mamas!"

At least this girl was honest with her friend. She was trying keep her bitch from going out sad, a sentiment I could certainly relate to. The girl I now understood to be a part of Angelo's former rotation spoke up, indignation coating her every word.

"Girl, I could get him back anytime I want. I just needed to give it some time of cool off. That bitch couldn't see me if she Jesus Christ made her contacts! I'm definitely taking him back tonight, just cause I can!" Confidence was a great quality to have. I couldn't begrudge her that. She was supposed to feel like she was that bitch. But her problem was that she was trying to charge that self-assuredness to me.

And I wasn't payin' it.

She didn't know it, but I had the same level of confidence in myself. I felt like the main character, just like she did. The only difference was, the nigga she wanted shared my perspective, as opposed to hers.

Her friend was right. Angelo wasn't my man, and I wasn't his girl. And I famously had a much better poker face than him when it came to my emotions. So while my feelings for him stayed locked down securely, away from the attention of anyone but him, his emotions lived much closer to the surface. And the parts they could see only formed the tip of the proverbial iceberg.

He was in deep.

Having been in this toilet cubicle for a solid six minutes, I'd long finished my business and stood, waiting for them to take their leave. Initially, I intended to carry on as per usual, but when I became the topic of conversation, I wanted to be the bigger woman and wait for them to clear out after their gossip session came to a conclusion.

The decency to spare the ladies the embarrassment of realising they had an audience quickly transformed into a desire to serve the humiliation up, hot and piping.

So I waved my hand slightly to set off the contactless flushing system and made my way toward the sinks.

The plethora of mirrors hanging behind the bathrooms fixtures acted as the screen this little scene would play out on.

At first, all I could see was the tailored, all white Sergio Hudson mini-skirt suit I was wearing, with the occasional flicker of light bouncing off the large rhinestones that decorated it. The cut of the blazer was phenomenal; cinching my waist in the most pleasing way. The lapels met pretty low, leaving a good bit of my cleavage exposed. The amount of boob tape I was wearing to protect my modesty was ridiculous, but my titties were sitting, so the assignment was understood as far as I was concerned.

The skirt was salaciously short, and although I didn't have eyes on the back of my head, I knew Lo, amongst others were having a hard time looking away from my shapely legs.

I was more of a middle part babe, but the deep side part I'd been rocking for the last few days was making some points. Soft waves cascaded down the sides of my face, showing off the delicate balayage highlights and voluminous layers, completing the look.

After perusing my appearance for a brief moment, my gaze shifted to the reflection of young women that were now uncharacteristically quiet.

The looks on their faces were priceless.

They took up residence in the bathroom after me, so I didn't know which one was which immediately. The shit talker gave herself away though, by how wide her eyes got when they met mine in the mirror.

He sure likes them racially ambiguous.

Both girls were pretty and dressed for the occasion. We were at the opening of an art gallery; the owner being one of Lo's business acquaintances, and he needed to keep that relationship sweet by showing support. I knew he had no actual interest in the pieces on display, as he had complained about having to attend all day, but I wanted an opportunity to wear this outfit, so rebuffed the protests with promises of his favourite dinner and some good sex when the festivities drew to a close.

Now, I wish I hadn't bothered. At least that way I would have been halfway into getting my pussy ate instead of being the subject of childish rumours.

I wasn't sure if they were waiting for me to make a scene, but when the only sounds that could be heard were me washing my hands turned into the the low thump of the complimentary hand towel hitting the basket, it finally became an obvious that I had no intention of addressing the matter.

I felt I made my point.

It was easy to talk shit while you felt you were in a safe place, but when I came around, silence was all I was granted. I hoped the lesson to be learned in this situation was one that would stick.

Except, it wouldn't.

Feeling no need to rush, I took the time in front the mirror to touch up my face with the miracle that was Fenty Beauty's Invisimatte Blotting Powder. My eyes were trained on my slightly oily T-Zone, but my senses told me the girls were still there, staring at me. The taller, and seemingly wiser of the two was silently urging her girl to walk away and presumably eat her L, but Miss Thang felt the need to double down, and couldn't be convinced to leave her spot.

After a sufficiently awkward stand off, I decided to take the bait. I wanted to see where this would go.

"Is everything okay? Or did you need something from me?" A simple enough question, void of any overt rudeness, but clearly not mean to be an actual gesture of helpfulness. It still landed like a lead balloon, and caused the girl begin her descent to the deep end.

"It's nothing. I just wanted to get a close look at any potentially competition tonight. I was worried for a second, but I see now that there was no reason for me to be. That's all." The smile that spread across her face was facetious to say the least. The way she tilted her head to give me a once over was comical.

All this for a man?

Sad.

Despite being taken aback slightly at how she had attempted to cut me down, I didn't let this surprise reflect in my posture. Instead, I continued reapplying my lip gloss. When I was satisfied that the shine on my face was in the places I intended it to be, I finally responded.

"I'm sorry, what is your name?" Through proximity and vetting guest lists, I had slowly learned about Angelo's sizeable collection of ex-flings. The most significant ones were now banned from any events that he was planning to attend, as he refused to have another iteration of the Athena debacle take place on his watch.

But hers must have slipped his memory when I had him look at the list to make sure it was satisfactory. Or maybe she was overstating her importance to Mr Leone.

She was clearly surprised that this where I chose to start, but indulged me.

"Bitch, don't worry about who I am. Ya man knows me plenty well!" I guess that was supposed strike envy in me? All I did feel, was the beginning of some heartfelt laughter, and a small modicum of pity for a girl that clearly didn't see how coming at me wasn't going to get her the outcome she wanted.

"I actually do not know who you are. The reason I asked, was became Mr Leone was deadset against having any of his past companions in attendance tonight, and your name seemed to have escaped his mind, since he took all the others off the list.  That's all." Having employed the same condescending tone she took with me just minutes ago made her that bit more angry.

Her friend obviously knew the young woman's ways, and tried to quietly convince her to leave once more, to no avail.

"Y'all got caught being messy. And instead of just keeping it moving, you're trying to press me? I suggest you listen to your friend and beat it, cause you're barking up the wrong tree, sweetie. Mr Leone is not my man. So if you're not on his arm tonight, that's on you, not me. I'm not standing in your way, hun!" She didn't like this. At all.

"Not you trying to save face because you know I'm about to take my nigga back. Be prepared to make your own way home alone tonight. Don't say I didn't warn you!"

This was stupid.

And I was about to shut it down before I lost any more brain cells.

"Okay, if he's yours, why don't you go get him, sis?"

Silence.

That's what I thought.

All this talking, but where was the action? Although I had finally accepted the fact that I was in love with him, I was able to recognise that he was infinitely more respectful to me than he was to most other women. That was something I was in the process of ironing out, as I didn't enjoy the misogynistic undertones he sometimes took. But why this girl would be willing to embarrass herself like this for the sake of maybe one more night or catching a couple of doubloons was beyond me.

When she didn't respond, I sarcastically gestured towards the door with my hand, inviting her to give it her best shot.

"You see, I don't understand why you're in here, doing all this talking, trying to convince me, and yourself that he's yours when you could just prove it!" I didn't want even want to do all this, but she left me with no choice.

I felt it was absolutely necessary for me to open the first edition of "You Got Vanessa Cruz Fucked Up" at Chapter 1, Verse 1: I'm Not Arguing About No Man, and commence a reading session.

"Let me make this very clear. I am single by choice. Not default. And if I really did bless a nigga with a claim, the whole city gon' feel it. Cause if he's mine, there wouldn't be anywhere I could go, where I would have to tussle with chicks in the bathroom about him."

Sure wouldn't be.

That man cleared his ledger for me months ago. I was certainly not willing to tolerate any less fidelity if we progressed to exclusive status.

"You have got some nerve coming at me, when you clearly have more pressing matters to address. Cause it seems like you have trouble making things stick to you. Your lashes, your press-ons, your lace, "your man"; none of it is staying down, Mama. So I suggest you focus on sourcing whatever glue is going to take care of your lil lifting situation and maybe adjusting your attitude, so you can keep hold of the man you so desire. I mean, he did forget ever dealing with you, so...."

Now it was my turn to give her a scathing once-over.

"Get to work."

What I said shook her unfounded confidence to say the least. That much, I knew. It was in the way the hurt flickered across her fine features, and her weight shifted from one hip to another.

Hook. Line. Sinker.

Under normal circumstances, I wouldn't have even considered engaging to this extent. Or coming for her appearance. But I felt this immutable need to defend myself against completely unwarranted assassinations of my character.

So I beat her without violence.

And with that, I made my exit, uninterested in hearing anything else she had to say.

ACT II - IF YOU'RE HAVING GIRL PROBLEMS I FEEL BAD FOR YOU SON
ANGELO
(Vincenzo Pictured Above)

Where is she?

Although Serge was my friend, it was her that convinced me to come tonight. There was nothing I hated more than looking at overpriced, over contrived "art" and making small talk with the people who bought it, but she wanted to attend. And she drove a hard bargain. I was holding onto promises of two of my favourite things: home cooked food, and rare night with her on top.

How could I have refused?

So now I was in the midst of a bunch of dark suits, bored out of my mind, trying to spot the object of my affection. She had slipped off to the bathroom over 15 minutes ago, and was now starting to concern me with her absence.

Having finally had enough, I made my excuses and headed towards the ladies room, bracing myself for the reaction of some of its unassuming patrons, who certainly wouldn't be expecting to see a man, much less a mob boss to bust in while they were powdering their noses.

I was so focused on trying to pick her out of the crowd, I didn't see the petite woman in front of me until I felt her hand on my chest, wordlessly causing me to come to an abrupt stop.

"Yo, what the fuc-" My tone was less than friendly.

Why she was touching me, I didn't understand. It wasn't until I took a better look at her face that my brain started to prickling with the sensation of recognition.

Fuck.

When V gave me the guest list, I thought I had struck off all the names of women I had dealt with in the past. After Athena showed her ass, I didn't want any other scorned women around her. She was entirely too good to have to deal with the vitriol of girls that were bitter about no longer being in my sphere of influence.

What is her name? Fuck.

"Woah, where are you running to, Mr Leone? I haven't seen you in forever!" Her enthusiastic greeting was followed by a hug, which I declined to return. This girl was about to waste my time, when I was trying to find the woman I love.

Stepping out of her over-familiar touch, I took a moment to really try and recall identifying details about this woman.

When I came up blank a few long and uncomfortable moments later, I said "I'm not even gon' front, I don't remember your name." I knew I was being overtly rude, but V wasn't here to elbow me in the ribs as retribution, so I didn't feel the need to mince my words.

My admission clearly hurt her feelings, as they unknowingly confirmed the doubt Vanessa had cast over parade just minutes ago. Her features contorted themselves into an expression of disbelief, before she reintroduced herself through clenched teeth.

"Are you kidding me? My name is Chanel, we met at your club, way back. Its been what, maybe two years since we last saw each other? So I'll forgive you! But you better not forget again!" The false cheeriness in her tone only accelerated my growing annoyance.

Then, a flash of white left my peripheral view as quickly as it entered it. I was able to keep sight of her this time, and my eyes followed her form closely. She was looking at some Polaroids, with the event photographer by her side.

He was charmed.

It was obvious. The young black man was looking at her while she was admiring his work, seemingly deciding on whether or not he should shoot his shot.

I was about to go over and take the decision out of his hands when Serge cornered me and my involuntary companion, to show us another exhibit.

"Ah, there you are Angelo! Please, let me show you and your date my favourite exhibit!" The misnomer was all Chanel needed to sink her hooks in, and she brazenly decided to grab my hand to implore me to follow Serge's lead.

Not wanting to draw too much attention to myself, I discreetly withdrew my hand from hers and leaned down to her ear. To those watching, it looked like an intimate moment. The real reason I got so close to her was much more sinister.

"I don't know what kind of shit you're on tonight, but you know better than to approach me in public, let alone touch me without my permission. You have 30 seconds to explain yourself. Go." The look on her face was the anthesis of my facial expression. While mine was stern and suspicious, hers was wide-eyed and evocative of innocence.

I didn't buy it though.

A girl that I fucked a few times more than two years ago popping up out of nowhere, coming onto me so aggressively didn't sit right with me for a few reasons.

Although V didn't have to worry about any competition, I didn't want to risk upsetting her. Her silent treatment was torture to me and it was much simpler for me to not piss her off in the first place. Secondly, I'd been around long enough to know that this was how niggas got set up.

It took her about 20 seconds of stammering to explain that she simply wished to reconnect, and was hoping we could pick up where we left off. After some consideration, I decided I believed her, but declined her offer.

I wasn't interested in rekindling anything with this chick, who I was now starting to remember as particularly irritating, especially when my soulmate was roaming around looking like a goddess in that damn white suit.

Thinking of an out, I sought out my sibling.

Vince came along with us, which was surprising to me, as I didn't know him to have any particular interest in the kind of art on display either.

He had also disappeared to God knows where, but had now returned to his spot of the evening, way across the room, just in time. Stood off to the side, he was brushing his hand over his slick waves in irritation. The movement caused the watch and bracelets on his right wrist to shine with brilliance.

I wonder what caused the change in mood?

Once our host had completed his impromptu tour, I made a beeline for my younger brother, without so much as announcing my departure.

"Where the fuck did you go, man? And what the fuck is your problem ? Why you look like someone pissed on your laptop?" My comments and a quick dap seemed to pull him back from the recesses of his mind and wipe the sour expression off his face. He was about to answer when his eyes focused on something behind me. The way his gaze lowered let me know that Prada or whatever her name was, had followed me like a fucking fart.

A slight turn of my head confirmed that the young woman had indeed taken it upon herself to be my shadow. Her sustained presence around me was already capturing unwanted attention, as it was noted by some in attendance.

"I really don't like to take too harsh a tone with ladies, so I'mma only say this once. You need to find something else to do, or someone else to bleed dry. Now go and make sure I don't see you again." My voice was low, rumbling slightly due to the quiet volume I had chosen. I wasn't interested in having anyone else overhear my now final warning to this woman. And it worked. She found something else to entertain herself.

For now.

"I'm straight, man. Just girl problems, nothing major. But who was that? Why was she following you like a lightskin puppy?" Vince had no idea what was going on, but found the whole thing quite humorous anyway.

From his perspective, he was seeing me reject girls that were previously my exact type, left and right, to get no play from her; and it was hilarious to him.

He didn't know that for all intents and purposes, we had been in a relationship for months, but that's the way that the fucking NDA had us operating.

I was regretting letting her talk me into adding that clause more and more.

Not because I wanted broadcast how much I loved having sex with her, but because I felt the need to start marking my territory.

She was a beautiful, charismatic young woman, who drew eyes wherever she went. We weren't together, having left our relationship undefined after the agreement came to an end. Things got so hectic with her family, that I didn't want to take her focus from that. I wasn't yet sure she would even want to be my girlfriend if I asked, so I technically had no right to block anyone else from getting at her.

But I did though. She was mine, and I was hers, so that counted for something.

Cause I was starting to get tired of being asked about her.

Out of respect to me, rather than her, most that wanted to hit on her came to me and asked me for my blessing. After all, it was me that had brought her into the mix. The conversation went almost exactly the same every time.

"Yeah, man, so what's up with your PA? That's you?" Yeah, that's all me.

"Nah, man, you know I don't mix business with pleasure. She's a good girl, though. She deserves the best." Most of them got the hint at this point. Some were more stubborn, and doubled down in their quest for more information.

"Come on, man! You're telling me, Capo Leone ain't hit that at least once? You haven't tried to cuff her, at all?! She's definitely wife material, you're fumbling that, man. You mind if I get at her?" This part was the most irritating. The implication that I wasn't aware of her various attributes was infuriating.

What I really wanted to say was: Try it, if you wanna see the inside of a body bag.

Instead I settled on: "She's off limits. End of discussion."

The edge in my voice went a long way to communicate what I couldn't say directly. This deterred even the most persistent.

I'd already had two conversations of a similar vein, through clenched teeth, this evening, much to my chagrin. At this point, all I wanted was to go home and have her sit on my face.

I'm never letting her drag me out again.

Vince clearing his throat brought me back to the conversation, and I answered his question the same way he answered mine. 

"Girl Problems."

The way I tipped my head forward with exaggerated irritation made him laugh, causing his bottom grill to show.

Ah to be young ass, rich ass nigga.

"I don't know, she's some chick I fucked with a few years back, tryna get back into the rotation. I deaded it though. V had me vet the guest list and I still missed her ass." To say I was annoyed with myself for the oversight was an understatement. I didn't even really want to be here, so the last thing I needed was girls trying to creep out the woodworks and complicating things with my lady. They all knew I wasn't going for that shit anymore, and yet, time after time, they would try me, and her for no good reason.

"Damn, you got caught slippin'!" I initially assumed the coast was clear, unaware that they'd already had an encounter. But Vince's comment made me start to wonder if Vanessa had seen her try to get close to me.

As I gave it more thought, I started to accept the likelihood that the girl had already crossed paths with Vanessa, which made me weary at best. I would have to try and steal a moment later to take her temperature, and smooth things over if necessary.

I truly did hate it when she was mad at me.

"There wasn't anything to catch. I'm not even on that type of time right now." In all honesty, having her around for the last few months had made the thought of a home and family to fill it more and more appealing. I had long switched gears on my behaviour with women, and was focused on moving forward with the one I loved.

"Yeah, you've been stuck on V o'clock for a minute."

Truer words hadn't been said.

Declining to acknowledge the little quip, I turned around, to give myself a better vantage point of the room.

"Hold on. I know you're not talkin'. Whoever got your attention right now got you in a headlock." He waved me off, muttering something about niggas not knowing what they was talking about.

"I do know what it's like when you and your lady are beefin' and now you gotta and put on a face cause she worked her ass off to get you a meeting with the Vice President of Venezuela, and is willing to kill you if you fuck it up." He was not expecting all that, and burst out in bellowing laughter. I couldn't help but to join him.

Yeah, not one of our finer moments.

Vince was definitely on the outs with whoever  he was dealing with. Although subtle, the way his eyes would harden once in a while indicated to me that he was thinking about a disagreement he'd had with the mystery woman.

Nothing took you off your A-Game like a lover's quarrel.

Having turned to face the room allowed me to set my eyes back on Vanessa. She appeared to be in deep conversation with Malia. I knew her well enough to recognise her mannerisms; she was trying to "get the tea" from Malia about something that the usually vibrant woman seemed to be more pensive about.

Our boisterous laughter pulled Mally's eyes towards us briefly, and triggered polite wave, but Vanessa ignored the noise, not even so much as peering over, as she would have usually done. Although I couldn't see her face all that well, I spied a quick roll of the eyes, followed by her kissing her teeth ever so slightly.

Oh yes.

She definitely met Chanel.

ACT III - IN PLAIN SIGHT
OMNISCIENT

"Can you please take some pictures of the two of us? I loved the ones you did of just me!" Her compliment made his lips part, revealing a set of pearly whites. It was the last piece of the trifecta that was her previous "type", if she could even call it that.

Dark skin, slick waves and a nice smile.

She was spotted by Jay, the photographer after leaving the awkward confrontation in the restroom behind. He stopped in his tracks, blown away by Vanessa.

She looked incredible in her ensemble. Her deep brown skin glowed with health and youth and her suit made no secret of her lengthily legs and curves. She was taller than most of the ladies in attendance, as her square toe, strappy heels set her at a solid 5'11".

But it was her aura that drew him in. She had the air of a leader, marching to the beat of her own drum, with no interest in trying to inserting herself into the mix. She stood in a quieter corner, head tilted to the side slightly to take in a photo series depicting a Black family in motion.

At first she was pretty much alone, but was then joined by Malia, who was draped out in a chic, all black Mugler look.

He didn't know the women, but by the way the hugged and began speaking enthusiastically, he could tell they were good friends. The previous look of contemplation on her face was replaced by luminous joy.

It was beautiful to witness.

And just like that, heads started to turn. And people started gravitating towards her. She didn't notice, and assumed it was just the natural flow of the event, but he saw it. People across the spectrum flocked to her, and before she knew it, she was pulled into conversation by yet another suitor. The moment's reprieve was utilised by Vince, who used it to draw Malia away from Vanessa's usually watchful eye.

The illicit activities they would go on to partake in, way out of sight, would remain a secret for years to come.

Vince had been hiding in the cut, waiting for Malia to make her entrance. She arrived with Ale, and shook him off in favour of her best friend within five minutes.

When she saw Bella Hadid in the strappy blazer look from the SS22 collection, she knew she had to get her hands on it, and her guilt-ridden husband begrudgingly footed the bill on the express order. Although Mally loved to skin out, even she knew she couldn't get away with just the risqué body suit, and threw a matching black mini skirt on top.

Either way, she looked like a high fashion model herself, and although Ale didn't appreciate it, Vincenzo certainly did.

When Vanessa's attention was diverted from her friend, Vince decided to make his move. Malia didn't spot him initially, too focused on her phone to see his suited form approach. It was when she picked up the musky vanilla and sandalwood notes of his signature Frédéric Malle fragrance, Musc Ravageur, that she knew she was in trouble. A lot of it.

He was not happy with her. At all.

When he got close enough, he started talking before she could even think of a good excuse as to why she had been ignoring his calls.

"I'm about to go down to my car. I'm giving you five minutes to duck out and join me." Malia always put on a brave face, but she required a gentle touch. Vince learned this quickly, and had long adopted a delicate approach with her. In turn, she was more open with him that she was with almost anyone else, and the dynamic worked.

Until they had their first "disagreement" about the future of their relationship. He wanted to use his influence to force Ale's hand. She refused to let him put himself at risk, but would provide no further information than that.

Vince knew he wasn't a saint by any stretch of the imagination. Although he hadn't earned quite the reputation his brother had, he had no qualms about getting his hands dirty.

However, being a side nigga was definitely not on his bingo card for the year.

He was very lowkey about his affairs, not one to enjoy too much drama. So usually he steered clear of women with any baggage larger than a Mini Hermès Kelly.

But he had always had a little crush on Malia, and when he was exposed to the cracks in their marriage, he acted on instinct.

And here they were, weeks turning into months, slipping deeper and deeper into this affair. And he was starting to tire of it's secrecy.

So tonight, he was giving orders.

Malia was taken aback. She wasn't used to him telling her what to do so uncompromisingly. Aware that she had curious eyes on her, she limited her physical reaction, and instead uttered through a forced smile "Who are you talking to? I wish I would let you tell me what to do! You are not my daddy."

She led with defiance.

"I'll see you in five, Lia."

He countered with certainty.

Vince felt no need to repeat himself. And with that, he slipped into the crowd, heading for the lobby.

ACT IV - STATE OF AFFAIRS
OMNISCIENT

The clicking of her Jimmy Choos only increased in volume as she made her way to the luxury vehicle. It was one of a growing collection he was building, sitting proudly in a sleek gunmetal grey.

Her strut was confident, made up of long feline strides. She initially wanted to refuse him, as punishment for approaching her so boldly in public, but as the minutes passed by, she found herself being drawn closer and closer to the heavy double doors of the venue. Eventually, she made her excuses, pretending to be in search of the restroom, but continued straight past the door bearing the "female" sign, and instead, headed for the underground parking garage.

This man.

Eventually, Malia reached her destination, and he had gotten out, just in time to walk around and open the door for her. Once his door slammed shut, the soundproof and blacked out vehicle provided the perfect hiding place for their escapades.

"You're late." His tone conveyed how unimpressed he was with her lack of compliance. It had taken her total of seven minutes to get away, and it just wouldn't do.

She tilted her head back and guffawed with incredulity. Her laughter fizzled out quickly though, when she realised he was serious. "Have you lost you mind? I'm here with my husband Enzo! First, you ask me to dip out, and now that I actually decided to be nice and come down here, you're complaining about how long it took? You're out of your rassclart mind, you know!" The more irritated she was getting, the more her accent emerged, a sliver of her mother tongue making its way into the open.

"Lia, the only person that cares about your husband is him. You're here with me, and I sure as hell don't give a fuck about ol' dude, so what gives?" He was right. Malia would have liked nothing more than to get the opportunity to wear a sickening outfit to the funeral of her husband, with her new man on her arm, but Vince wasn't aware of the plan that was starting to take form. Rocking the boat with the recoil of the bombshell their affair had become was an absolute no-go.

She should have stopped entertaining him months ago, but rarely was anything in her life so simple.

"We're on a time crunch here, sir. Please, make use of the little time you've got wisely."

"Aight, bet."

And that's how she ended up on his lap, making out with him like her life depended on it.

Things started platonically between the pair. Malia was fresh off her salpingectomy when he started coming around and keeping her company when V couldn't. The trauma this caused was almost all consuming, and often times they would just talk for hours, before he watched her break down. Trying to console her physically was a non-starter, as the way she flinched when he hugged her clearly showed that she didn't quite trust him yet.

So he would offer words of encouragement, and watch her cry herself to sleep. Seeing her so upset and not being able to help was torture to him, and from there, a budding need to protect her emerged. And he felt compelled to stay in her life, as a source of peace and serenity. At first, it was easy to put his crush to the side, as prioritising her comfort and mental health was more important to him. But then she would give him signs that she was starting to reciprocate his feelings.

As the weeks passed by, she opened up, and would initiate subtle touches. A pat on the shoulder here, a kiss on the cheek there. The first time she didn't back away from a hug, he spent the rest of the day grinning.

So when she "accidentally" kissed him on the lips, he reciprocated.

Vince was so different to her husband. He was much more intuitive, so attuned to her body language. Comfortable in his masculinity, he was happy to follow her lead in this space.

He never pushed, and was always satisfied with however much she was able to give. It was her, after all, that he wanted. Even on the days where she couldn't bare to give him more than a smile.

Her hips had started rotating, in time with the rhythm only audible to the pair. His hands had wandered south, slipping underneath her skirt to grip the soft skin of her ass.

"Vincenzo..." His name was all that her brain could think of which she came up for air. The torrid reality of their circumstances had been banished to somewhere outside of the vehicle the occupied.

"I'm right here, ma." He was. Everywhere.

His presence was all-consuming, and deliciously intoxicating. His touch, his scent, the feel of his hard body, underneath hers, nearly had her throw all caution to the wind.

Her husband's inconsiderately timed call brought her back to reality and caused her to cut their misadventure short, again. Not before they had an impassioned argument though.

As she made her way back to the passenger seat, she tried to adjust her clothing, to right what he had shimmied up.

Only sparing him a glance, she saw his clenched jaw, complete with a pulsating temple.

Aww, shit. Here we go again.

"Why won't you just fucking trust me Lia? Just let me take care of it! I know you've tried to leave before, but now you got me! I'm about to be made, and Angelo would back me 100% if I explained it to him. I won't let him ever hurt you again. Just let me help you!" He was frustrated.

This wasn't the first time they had this discussion. He personally didn't give a fuck about her husband and the only reason he didn't arrive with the Canadian-Jamaican beauty on his arm was because she wouldn't allow it.

It sounded so heartbreakingly simple, the way he said it. And if she was younger and less experienced, she would have believed it could work.

But she had been down this road too many times.

The exit strategy her and Vanessa where conceiving was in its embryonic phase; just starting to take form. Malia had only just begun to make peace with the fact that she would have to leave the Western Hemisphere to escape Ale. They had considered all other alternatives, but settled on the fact that the only way Mally could live a free life, void of having to look over her shoulder was to go to the very place that him and his comrades weren't welcome.

Besides, Vince using his influence to force Ale's hand in a marital issue when he ascended to status of Capo Regime, would be a deeply unpopular move, that would isolate him, not to mention putting him and his team in danger.

She just didn't see the risk as being worth it. Especially not for damaged goods, which was unfortunately how she viewed herself.

"Enzo, please. Stop being so damn naïve! I'm not about to let you put your career and safety on the line! I have to do this my way. I know it sucks. I know. But this is my lot in life. My burden to carry. Why can't you get that through your young ass mind?!." Brown eyes clashed against green, as the words leaving her mouth found their way to their intended recipients ears.

He didn't like what he was hearing. At all.

"So this is about my age? I thought we got past this? Stop fucking playing with me Malia. You know that man don't put fear in my heart!" Being four years her junior was a bit of an insecurity for Vincenzo, and the sheer implication that he was any less of a formidable man didn't sit well with him.

"Oh my God, I'm not doing this with you again!" And with that she opened the door of the Maserati they were currently sitting in and made her way back to the elevators. Her lover only attended this evening because he knew she was coming, and she'd been avoiding him. With this in mind, the surveillance equipment had long been disabled.

It was now clear that she was dodging him because they were quickly headed for an impasse. They had been creeping for a while at this point and he was tired of being her dirty little secret.

He wasn't interested in pretending around her anymore. They ran in the same circle and bumped into each other frequently. Seeing her and having to give her a curt nod and wave, before quickly looking away was getting more unbearable by the day, and he felt he had the means to put an end to both of their misery. The only thing he was lacking was the kind of wisdom only age could give you. She did indeed have to do it her own way. He just didn't know that this would mean he would get left behind.

All of that aside, he quickly hopped out the whip and followed her before she could get too far away.

"Yo, where the fuck do you think you're going!? I wasn't done talking to you, Malia!" His voice was low in volume and slightly gravely, but boomed around the vacant space anyway.

He didn't ever raise his voice with her, for fear of triggering her, but the bass and authority he projected with his command got his point across anyway.

Before she could get any further, he finally caught up, blocking her escape by standing in her way.

"I'm going back to the party, Vincenzo. You know the one where my husband is currently looking for me at?! I don't know what else to say to you. If you don't like how things are running then go. I'll be just fine. Matter of fact, I'll leave. Get out of my fucking way, man!" Attitude dripped from her words and posture. Her Toronto accent was more audible than usual and her head was titled back to meet his stare, refusing to back down.

Not being able to see his arms meant she didn't expect him to pick her up. She couldn't help but wrap her legs around his waist, to prevent herself from falling. Vince sat her down on the hood of the car and wasted no time in reminding her why she snuck away with him in the first place.

The kiss was ravenous; with both of them fighting for dominance. Lips and tongues entwined passionately once more, fuelled by a mutual desire and frustration at their current circumstances. Hands wandered again and kisses began to spill from her lips, to her chest, as he made his way down her neck.

The fact that they were currently in a parking garage had momentarily escaped him, but returned with a vengeance, so he eased off before he really gave the stationary vehicles a show.

"I'mma let you go this time, but you better remember who you're dealing with and act accordingly Malia. Don't play me like I'm soft. And you better pick up when I call. I don't care if you're with him or not. Do your understand me?"

If she had drank just one more glass of champagne upstairs, she would have got back in the car and told him to take her home. The lust between them was palpable.

But her days of impulsiveness had come to a close.

As tempted as she was to leave his question unanswered, she couldn't help but give in, muttering a reluctant "Yeah." To communicate her understanding of his instruction.

And with that he turned and walked away, leaving Malia to prepare herself for the biggest acting role she had taken on yet.

The part of a happy wife, who wanted to be on the arm of her husband, as opposed to being ravaged by her boyfriend, on the hood of his Maserati sports car.

ACT V - IMMORTAL
OMNISCIENT

By the time Malia returned to the party and assured her nosy spouse that's she was fixing a wardrobe malfunction in the ladies room, the visible traces for her illicit tryst had been erased. The smeared gloss was touched up, wayward strands of hair had been smoothed and a quick spritz of her Initio Perfume masked the scent of her Paramour. Ale was none the wiser, as the idea of her cheating back was simply inconceivable to him.

Vanessa could feel the shift in her energy though, and would spend the rest of the night trying to get to the bottom of it.

She would have had her answer if she hadn't been avoiding looking in the direction she knew Angelo to be standing. If she had glanced their way, she would have seen Vince in that very moment, his uncompromising stare was filled with irritation and a hint of a deep sense of longing for woman he was looking at.

Instead, she was actively trying to ignore the man of her desires, not wanting to risk exposing the green tint her eyes had taken on.

They looked good together. Great even. A picturesque couple indeed.

Chanel was his type to a T. She couldn't have been more than 5'2" without heels, and her skin tone and features made it difficult to pin down her ethnic make up, though it was clear she was at least partly black. Her eyes was a pretty hazel colour, and curves were subtler than Vanessa's.

It looked so intimate when he leaned down to talk to her, and their little hand holding escapade signalled to Vanessa that the young girl might have been right. She was able to resume her place by his side, seemingly with ease.

She couldn't reasonably justify the tendrils of jealousy spilling out of her, for they hadn't addressed their relationship status, but seeing that stung more now she confronted the fact that she loved him.

The rumours of him attending an event with one woman and leaving with another returned to her mind's eye with a vengeance. Simply the thought was enough to colour her somber.

But for now, she would try to enjoy her evening as much as she could.

Jay had cheered her up. Once he got the courage to approach her, he revealed that the photo series she was perusing with such careful attention was his work, and the conversation just flowed from there.

Eventually, he asked if he could take some photos of her on his black and white Polaroid camera, to immortalise this moment in time. Vanessa would have usually declined, not wanting to have any photographic evidence tying her to any Mafia or Mafia Adjacent events or activities, but the thought of being the subject of a handsome man's lens was too appealing to her slightly bruised ego.

So she agreed.

Posing for a professional felt slightly awkward to her. She wasn't one to have practiced poses, or to know her angles instantaneously, so opted to seek out another quiet corner. She was a quick study though, and took his direction well. Before she knew it, three or four of the slow developing photos were produced and she was amazed at the result.

She was seeing herself through Jay's admiring eye, and she looked good.

Her favourite of the set was a full body shot, capturing her in a simple stance. One foot was positioned slightly in front of the other, her opposite hip cocking back slightly. It wasn't an overt power pose, but she exuded intensity and sensuality anyway.

She couldn't look away, and as they made their way back to the crowd, Angelo spotted the look of awe on her face while thanked him for taking the time to capture her.

The evening would on go like this, with VV and Lo catching glimpses of each other, enthralled in conversation or intimate moments with others. Jealousy made the invisible connection between them vibrate with energy.

Although none of the other guests in attendance were aware, the two were fighting a battle, without even looking at each other.

People gathered around while Vanessa and Malia were posing for this set of pictures. The shyness she first felt around being the centre of attention was evaporated by the heat of the emotion swirling around inside her, and Mally was on the same page.

"These are so fire! Thank you Jay!" The smile on her face was worth it, so much so that he let her and Malia keep them all. It didn't feel right to him to hold onto them, but he was determined to get another opportunity to take pictures of Miss Cruz.

Before he could make his move, she was whisked away by who he understood to be her boss. They settled back into the corner he was previously occupying, and Jay couldn't help but observe them. Her back was turned to him, but he could see just a sliver of her profile, which was upturned, presumably to meet the gaze of the light skinned man.

At first she seemed to be aloof and professional, ready to fulfil his next order. Then her head cocked back, and her posture rearranged itself to a formation clearly depicting exasperation; as if she wasn't trying to hear what he was saying.

The display of emotion didn't seem to be a surprise to him, his eyes appearing much softer than they were when he stared literally anyone who spoke with her down. He must have been used to her cold front and carried on, undeterred.

Their discussion progressed, and the Mafioso slowly but surely chipped away at the frosty shield she put up. Something akin to affection took hold of her form, although they weren't touching.

They were almost magnetised to each other though, leaning in and then stepping away like a pendulum.

It was in that moment that Jay realised that although she told him she was single, that wouldn't be the case for too long. The emotion between the two of them was so abundantly evident to him, although only two or three others in attendance picked up on it.

Her melodic laughter was barely audible across the room, but he heard it. She tossed her head back slightly, laughing at something her boss had said to her, and for that brief moment, pure love encapsulated the two.

Jay felt compelled to take a picture of the handsome couple, to capture this. Disappointment at not being able to pursue the connection he felt with Vanessa was the primary emotion driving is actions, but behind that, was his adoration for black love.

He didn't know their story, nor did he care to find out. But in that moment he saw a man staring at the woman he was irrevocably in love with, like she was the answer to his prayers and sought to, again, immortalise the tender moment on polymer film.

ACT VI - GREEN MEANS GO
VANESSA

"Why are you laughing? I'm not joking." He could barely keep a straight face, because he was being extremely dramatic. And he knew it too, which was why his lips were tugging with the impetus of a smile.

"You are so dramatic, Lo. I was gone for fifteen minutes tops and now you wanna put an ankle tag on me so I can't leave your radius? It's giving obsessed." When he finally cracked and pulled me over, I knew he was gonna do nothing but complain about me leaving his side for more than five minutes.

"First off, I'm only here cause you wanted begged me to come. I been ready to go home. And, you've been gone for almost an hour. I'm ready to get the fuck! ASAP, after this shit!" His imitation of Tokyo Toni was too good not to laugh at. He would stop short at almost nothing to make me smile.

Especially when he was getting on my nerves.

"Keep laughing, if you want to. I might take Miss Coach up on her offer and leave you with your stalker." My laughter ceased, and the mirth that coloured my expression quickly shifted gears into sarcasm; complete with a squint.

I wasn't about to gratify his dig with a response, and started to walk away, when he discreetly grabbed hold of my waist to prevent my escape. Instead, he guided us into switching places, which allowed him to block me from running off again. I used the opportunity to lean against the wall, trying to alleviate some of the pressure my footwear of choice was putting on my poor feet.

"Chill, chill, chill, I was just playin'. You jealous for no reason." I was regretting telling him about how his ex-fling came at me in the bathroom, but revelled in the fact that I wasn't the only one feeling jealous tonight. He let his hypocrisy slip when referring to Jay as a stalker.

Like, how do you know he was following me around sir?

"First of all, nobody is jealous, okay? I was just saying, you need to check your fucking exes, cause they be coming at me for no reason. I was like, 'he's not my man, babe. If you want him, go get him!'" By this point, irritation had taken hold of my feelings once again. I couldn't help but make a "go fetch" gesture with my hand, before rolling my eyes.

Now I was the one struggling to see humour in the situation.

"So you're the one that put a battery in her back? I was wondering why she was moving so bold." His expression spelled enlightenment, now having the full picture of what led to her coming onto him so strong.

Even though she proved my theory right, I couldn't help but let more attitude leak through the surface of my otherwise unbothered demeanour. "I didn't do shit but pull her player card. I told her to get out my face with that rah rah and go be about that action. Cause if there's one thing for certain, there's two ways I'm not going. And that's back and forth. Especially not over no nigga"

I had forgotten myself. He didn't care for this flippant comment.

"Oh, what, so I'm just some nigga?" His brows creased along with the rest of his features, clearly reflecting annoyance at being reduced to almost nothing.

He knew he meant more to me than that, but that wasn't the point right now.

The fact I seemed to have bruised his his ego made me feel a little bit bad though, so I took a deep breath before continuing my rant, making sure to consider my next works more carefully. And it worked at first, but I ended up right where I started once again.

"That's not I meant. But I'm tired of people feeling like they can talk to me any old way because they think I'm blocking them from getting at you. You are not here with me under any sense of undue obligation. You came here with me because that's what you wanted to do. You always do whatever you want Angelo. So if it's her you want then I'll tell you the same thing I told her. Go get her, I'm not standing in your way." Okay, so maybe I was a little bit more upset about this all than I initially admitted. Sue me.

A little huff escaped my nose after the last syllable left my mouth, acting as a silent "Period.". I couldn't see it, but the way my bottom lip was pouting ever so slightly made me look every bit of the 22 years young I was. I just couldn't take the high road this time. Not when it came to the man I loved.

"Are you done now?" His tone was dancing on the line of being condescending, which only served to rile me up more. It was becoming increasingly more difficult to school my reaction.

Foregoing a verbal response , I simply shifted my weight from one hip to another, crossing my arms in unconscious self defence.

He took the cue to speak eventually, but knew me well enough to to know I wasn't interested in listening to a word he was about to say.

I was officially pissed off.

"Look at me." Why should I have looked into his intense brown eyes, when there was all of this lovely ceiling to peruse.

"Come on, V. Don't be like that." Abstract art wasn't necessarily my style but maybe I should start looking into it more. There was this intriguing documentary about how to look at art I had on my watchlist for a while.

"Karrina."

That got my attention. During one of our many heart to hearts, I told him tales of the shit I used to get into as a kid, and how I always knew I was in serious trouble when my parents referred to me by my middle name.

I wasn't used to hearing it very often, and for these reasons, I couldn't help but give into his command, and meet his gaze with my own.

I used to be able to look right through him, but the times his stare left me unaffected were long gone. All I could muster was an arched brow, as a last means of defiance.

"Listen to me when I say this. You are right." That was the last thing I was expecting to hear him say.

"Nobody tells me what to do. I do what I want, when I want to." Not strictly true but now wasn't the time to interrupt.

"And I'm here with you. I spend almost every waking moment with you because that's what I want to do. Even though you get on my last nerve sometimes." Wasn't he such a poet?

"I told ol' girl to beat it as soon as she came around because I don't want her. Like how I don't want Athena, or any other woman." Just the mention of her name made me want to frown, but the overarching point he was trying to make prevented me from doing that.

"I chose you every day, V. Don't doubt that, baby." Ah, he got me.

He was doing the bare minimum, but, oh, did he do it with style.

I just knew his hand was itching with the urge to cup my face or snake around my waist, to drive the point home, and if it was up to him, he would have. But he knew I wasn't comfortable with that level of PDA in such a mixxy space, especially without a title, so instead, he stepped as close to me as he reasonably could.

"There no one I trust like I trust you. You have access to all my keys and know the security codes. You know where the escape plans are, shit you even have my AmEx in your possession right now. You don't need to feel threatened by her, or anybody else for that matter." You see when he put it like that...

The green-eyed monster was satisfied enough with his little diatribe, and all of a sudden, my psyche had been released from the grips of envy. Instead, slight embarrassment at what I was now realising had been a slight overreaction began creeping up my spine.

So I changed the subject.

"Let me show you these Polaroids, I look soooo good." Beginning to get uncomfortable at how exposed he made me feel, I busied myself with taking the photographs out of my pocket. That meant I didn't see the wry grin he let slip. There was a question he had been wanting to ask me for long time.

And in that precise moment, he was confident what the answer was going to be for the first time.

Grumbling under his breath, he playfully snatched the photos out of my hands before examining them.

They were undeniably good pictures. Better than any he had ever taken of me.

Usually, my head would be cut out of the frame, or the details of my outfit hovered somewhere out of focus of the lens. Let him be taking a candid picture and all you would see was my ass, which was what he was obviously focusing on.

"Excuse me, give them back!" He ignored my request, pocketing the solo shots of me, before returning the ones of Malia and I.

This was his way of saying he agreed. He would never verbally admit it though. But he would begin taking much better pictures of me.

Starting tonight.

I started shifting my weight from leg, in an effort to reduce the abject pain I was now experiencing.

I thought I was doing it quite subtly, but he called me out anyway. "Great, so you're ready to go home?" Before I could refute his claim, he continued "Look at you now, I know them puppies are barking. I told yo' stubborn ass not to wear those! I'm not rubbing them when we get home!" He would, but I let him think he could put his foot down for now.

"Always think you know somebody. Come on, let's go."

ACT VII - PARTY FAVOURS
ANGELO

As we began to make our rounds, saying goodbye to those we had been politicking with throughout the evening, we were inevitably separated once more.

I wasn't expecting the photographer that had been following V to approach me, and was bracing myself for some kind of confrontation. I quickly learned that his intentions were far from nefarious.

"Aye, man, you got a moment?" Thankfully, he understood the curt nod I gave him as instruction to spit whatever was on his mind, out.

"This might seem weird, but I wanted to give you these." My gaze lowered, to meet his hands, which contained some Polaroids, similar to the ones he had captured of Vanessa earlier.

Upon closer inspection, I saw a series of three photos, which captured some soft moments between us. In reality, the exchanges between us were fleeting, lasting no longer than a few seconds at a time. But he caught it.

The way we looked at each other.

In the first, we were both laughing, entrenched in joy. The second was the moment I grabbed her to stop her from walking away again. Her eyes was more serious in this frame, and mine said it all. I was in love. No surprises there.

The third however, confirmed something to me I had been up at night wondering about. In this shot, my back was to the camera and I seemed to have been glancing off to the side. Her face was fully visible though.

And it held a thousand words.

Her posture was relaxed, as she leaned against the wall. Her head was tilted slightly to the left, and she was looking at me through her lashes.

Her expression was soft, in a way I only got to see very seldomly. Her eyes were full of emotion, lips pouting a little. It was clear to see.

She loved me too.

My heart made its presence in my ribcage known by beating harder than usual, the sensation making me forget how I came to possess these photos in the first place.

"It might not be my place to say this, but for you to have a girl who looks at you like that, telling niggas she's single, ain't right. Go fix that, man." And with that, he walked away.

I'd never been so grateful for someone deciding not to mind their business.

Every step we were taking was getting us closer to our bed, which was where I so desperately wanted to be right now. It was all going so well, until Chanel materialised, seemingly out of no where. Unbeknownst to us, she had spent her evening, nursing her wounds with alcohol; still coherent, but in possession of enough liquid courage to embolden her to follow us and call my bluff.

The majority of her evening had been spent in a dark corner, peering over the rim of her champagne flute. She was watching me, while I was watching V. And when I finally pulled my lady over, she couldn't take her eyes off our interaction. Every touch, every chuckle, every smile, every glimmer of the eye drove the dagger deeper into her ego.

There were many women who were on the edge of their seats, waiting to see who took me out of the game. Models, socialites and many others had tried, and failed, to get their way with me. They all operated in the same social scenes, and knew of each other.

So Vanessa coming out of nowhere and effortlessly enticing me into loving her was a surprise. The "are they, aren't they?" conversation that followed us was starting to tip in the direction of "they are". I could no longer hide my feelings, and to be honest, I didn't really care to. She was a prize.

I had nothing to be ashamed of.

And with the plans I had for us, it would only be a matter of time before everyone found out anyway.

"Angelo? Please, just give me another chance. I know I fucked up last time, but I promise to be good this time! I know you miss this pussy, daddy!" Her voice ricocheted off the sleek walls of the lobby, finding its way to our ears.

This was painfully embarrassing.

It was almost midnight, and all that could be heard after she ceased making noise was the odd car passing by outside.

I stopped in my tracks, a couple of paces after V did. I had planned to just ignore the young woman, and pushed the button to call the elevator, too focused on the positions I wanted to put my lover in. But when the clicking of her heels stopped, I paused and turned around, to assure she hadn't come to harms way.

What happened next was the last thing I could have foreseen.

Vanessa slowly made her way over to me, swaying her hips ever so slightly. When she got close enough, she handed me my phone back. Hers had died, and she was using it to check the news and my emails. Seeing this exchange caused the brows of our one woman audience to nearly disappear in her hair line.

No one ever got to look at my phone. Ever.

But she had it in her hand, unlocked and open for her perusal.

She was now standing just a hair's width away from me, meeting my intense stare. I almost forgot about Dior, when I felt Vanessa's hand entering the front pocket of my pants. Her fingers were adept in their search, managing to retrieve the keys she was looking for from my pocket, without even grazing my body through the fabric.

That didn't stop it from responding to her touch

I was entranced by her spell. She was a force of nature. Her touch was airy light, and yet, it was like she could move mountains. There was no other woman who could get so close to me, and take from me without a second thought.

I welcomed it all though, and was left craving more with each exchange.

Thinking she would at least place her lips over mine for maybe just a moment, in order to assert her place by my side, she surprised me yet again when she stopped just shy of doing so.

She seemed to have gotten what she needed from the moment, and backed away, walking right into the elevator, which opened just in time.

She spared me and YSL only a glance over her shoulder, before letting the doors close to obscure her from view.

Goddamn, that woman was gonna be the death of me.

"I'm not even gonna bother saying anything to you. I'm about to go where I belong. I suggest you do the same." My tone brokered no room for argument, and the last of the defiance she had summoned up drained away. Picking up the last pieces of her dignity, she scurried away, cursing me and my lady under her breath.

What she said didn't important in the slightest; I was about to go home with the woman I love.

And that's all that mattered.

"So, you definitely wasn't feeling some type of way back there, huh?" Her profile was softly illuminated by the traffic lights we were passing on our way home.

I joined her not even a minute after she closed the door of my Wraith. She had just straightened her posture after doing up her seatbelt when I took my place behind the wheel.

She didn't quite have an attitude yet, but could have easily been swayed in that direction again. I placed my phone back in her lap as a peace offering, happy for her to go through it to satisfy herself that Gucci's number wasn't anywhere on the cellular device.

She wouldn't bother checking, as the simple act assured her enough.

Once the engine came to life, I switched to first gear and lifted the clutch, willing the vehicle to move off. It took about thirty seconds for my hand to find its way on her bare thigh, and she put hers over it, squeezing it lightly.

It was when we pulled up to a red light, that I felt like the coast was clear enough to start up our usual, lighthearted banter.

"Whatever, Bartholomé" I always hated my middle name. It was the most old fashioned shit my parents could have come up with, but she insisted on using it when she was trying to put me in my alleged place, so I tolerated her use of it.

It was another pet name, solely reserved for her use.

"Nah, ain't no whatever. I thought I wasn't your man? That's not what it looked like back there. You showed out for ol' girl. I didn't know you had the pettiness in you." My comment was acknowledged by a short chuckle, and once that ceased, a comfortable silence settled over us.

It was at the next red light, she clapped back.

It was the telltale clicking of a seatbelt being undone that alerted me to her movement. She leaned over the console, and brought her face close to mine. With our lips hovering over each other, I leaned in to kiss her almost reflexively.

She pulled away slightly, causing my face to follow hers. She repeated this a couple of time, leaving me no choice but to grasp the back of her neck, to prevent her from doing it again.

"Why you playin'?" Although she didn't respond to my question, I knew the answer anyway

Because she could. No one else could have had me feening for a kiss like her.

"The light is green, Angelo." Her words were almost inaudible, but I heard them loud and clear.

I forgot I was even driving to begin with.

And with that, she sat back down and did her seatbelt back up, paying me no mind.

A shift occurred that night. In that moment, it became clear to me that a life without her beside me wasn't one I was interested in leading.

So I started planning out the rest of our evening.

ACT VIII - ALL LOVE
VANESSA

Angelo surprised me when he decided to stop by my favourite Vietnamese restaurant, as he usually held me to my promises. I was eternally grateful, as it was late and I wasn't in the mood to cook anymore.

The evidence of our dinner had been disposed of, and candles were lit around the living room to chase away the smell of the delicious food.

Grateful to have been relieved of the confines of clothes and undergarments, I settled onto my side of the sofa, in a short silk robe, make up free, with my feet on his lap.

I told you he'd rub them.

He was in his loungewear, which consisted of a pair of pyjama pants and a durug. It was a velour one I'd picked up for him a while back and it seemed to be his favourite. I made a note to get some more soon.

"So, there's something I'd like to talk to you about, Vanessa." The use of my full name made me sit up. He rarely called me anything but V, so I was understandably concerned. My worry was alleviated when he drew me onto his lap, so we were face to face.

Once settled, I urged him to express what was on his mind, curious to find out what had caused him to take such a serious tone with me. I could only hope he wasn't about to bring our little lover's spat back up.

The sigh he released through his nose was him expelling the last of his fear. He decided to get straight to it.

"Ever since you've come into my life, you have found an infinite number of ways to make it better. I value and appreciate you for that, and I thank God every day, for bringing you to me. You are everything I never knew I needed." My hands had long found his face, fingers lightly tracing his strong bone structure. His eye held mine in suspension though. I couldn't look away from them if I tried.

There was once a time the mere thought of this man forced me to confront my mortality. We used to exist in a space where he held my world in his hands. That fact felt almost inconceivable to me now.

In that moment, he was my love, my heart and my future. Of all the men that had tried to take a hammer to me, he came with a key, and although he wasn't very gentle initially, he eventually came to understand the value of this access and softened his approach.

And soft he was. A contrast to the hard and doggedly serious figure he presented himself to be, right now, he was a man who was opening himself up.

I'd never felt closer to him.

My heart swelled with emotion. In fact, I felt like every innervated part of my body was tingling; buzzing with the excess energy he had given me. Hearing those words from him was and affirmation of my very being. I couldn't help but glow with joy.

It was in this instant, that my last defence against him crumbled. He had me. He could have asked almost anything of me and I would have granted him it twicefold.

"I realised tonight, I've been taking you for granted. I treat you as my significant other in everything but title, and I want to change that. There is no other woman that makes me feel the way you do. And I know how we met wasn't exactly a fairytale, but I was hoping you could look past that, and do me the honour of being my girlfriend?" This was the last thing I was expecting him to ask this evening, but I was overjoyed.

The arrangement had come to an end a few weeks ago, and although he kept me around, I didn't know if he'd want to move to the next phase with me yet.  I thought he liked things as they were, as he seemed to be in no rush to change them. Unbeknownst to me, the evening's events accelerated his process significantly.

He had been scoping me out for awhile, trying to decipher where I stood. I had my softer moments, and had shown him a lot more vulnerability than I ever intended on doing. For that reason, I retreated a bit, not wanting to weigh was supposed to be easy and fun, down.

But he seemed to want all of me anyway. The thought was of it exhilarating. I would have somewhere safe, to seek reprieve from the harshness of life. Someone who would support me, like I supported everyone that meant something to me.

I wanted it so bad I was willing to accept him, purely on his potential. Even though he hadn't shown much of a capability for change.

I didn't matter to me though, because I loved him for who he was. I was never subject to the blurring effects of rose-tinted glasses. My distaste for him had transformed into love only a short while ago, but I didn't see the need to open up old wounds. So I metaphorically lifted the corner of the rug our relationship stood on once more, and swept yet more debris under it.

Not realising that I had him on tender hooks, I only came back earthside after he nervously rubbed the tops of my thighs.

Deciding to make him sweat a little longer, I started rubbing my chin, as if I had beard hair as dense as his to rake through.

He didn't see the humour in this.

To finally put him out of his misery, I leaned in to finally indulge us both in the first kiss of the night. It was so sweet, I thought I was at risk of getting an instantaneous case of diabetes. When that reduced down to pecks, I pulled away, wanting to confirm with words, what I had agreed with actions.

"I'd love to be your girlfriend, Angelo." A grin rivalling the Amazon in size spread across his face. I had always loved his smile, and was getting more and more opportunities to see it.

What a blessing.

And with those simple words, we were in a relationship. It was such a beautiful moment.

I wish it all could have lasted longer than it did.

But we weren't privy to how quickly things would sour between us.

No, in that moment, we were all love.

"I had your heart pounding, didn't I?" I had to take the moment to rub it in. He was carrying me to our bedroom, where he said he had something for me. I assumed he just meant dick, which I was craving more by the second.

And then it happened.

The scream that escaped me was near whistle-register material. While he had me locked in a fireman's carry, the last thing I expected him do was fake drop me. Although he caught me well before any harm could befall on me, it didn't stop my heart rate from picking up to match his.

"Yeah, and now yours is too." All I dared to do was roll my eyes. I didn't feel like breaking my coccyx tonight.

When he kicked the bedroom door open and took me straight through to the walk-in closet, I officially resigned myself to the fact that I didn't have any idea what he was planning.

"Close your eyes, baby." Seated in front of my new vanity, I followed his command, curious as to what he could possibly be plotting to do to me next.

When he asked me to move my hair out of the way, the pieces finally clicked.

With my left hand holding my loosely gathered hair up, my dominant hand quickly found the cold metal he had placed on my neck. The chain was quite long, with the pendant resting at the top of my cleavage.

"Aht aht, don't open them until I tell you to." Wait, there was more?

And with that, he began the process of stacking another three necklaces onto my neck, with the last one being a chocker.

And then he started on my wrist.

"Oh my God, Angelo! How many pieces did you get?!" I counted seven when he told me to open my eyes after clasping the last bracelet.

When Kash Doll said Ice Me Out, he felt that. I couldn't have been more glacial if he'd shipped me to the arctic.

He had rendered me speechless. The light in the closet was on its dimmest setting, but the diamonds still shook every ray of light that hit them, inviting them to a dance party on my body.

There were white and pink fancy VVS diamonds everywhere to be seen.

My wrist bore a triplet set of tennis bracelets, covering my favourite shapes. Radiant and pear cut colourless stones and pink marquis were all present, fitting snug enough to let me know he had measured the delicate joint while I was sleeping.

Angelo wasn't a big jewellery guy; that was more Vince's thing. He had a couple pieces he liked to wear on occasion, but generally chose to splurge on watches and suits.

That man loved him a good suit.

So I was surprised he took it upon him to drip all this ice on me.

There was a name plate, an ankh pendant and a set of dog tags with his name on them. All paved in thousands of diamonds, set in brilliant platinum. This was insanity.

My favourite piece was the choker. It was absolutely adorable. A flower chain, in which each bloom was made up five pear shaped diamonds. I had never seen anything like it.

The stinging sensation I felt at the back of my eyes was undeniable at this point. This was a deliriously good end to what had been a rollercoaster of emotion.

To say my emotions were all over the place was an understatement. The last few weeks had been the hardest time of my life thus far. It felt like I was eternally sweeping broken glass, lulled into a sense of false security before stepping on yet another shard, that had escaped my sight.

He held me down through it as best as he could, going into "fix it" mode, which was definitely required in this situation. When my mom told me Nesto had cancer, I thought I was going to die on the spot. My existence felt like it would cease any moment, for the impact of the new information was too much.

But it didn't.

And although I tried to keep my head above water, I found myself slipping under the surface without even noticing. My eyes became sightless, limbs slack with disillusionment. In my mind's eye, I could see the sorrow escape my body, like a swarm of bubbles coming out of my nostrils, floating up to the surface. And then, when all of the oxygen escaped my lungs, I was just there. Submerged.

Sinking.

Undefined amounts of time would go by while I transitioned into this state of being, until Angelo touched me and pulled me out of the trance. The way he stepped up to the plate only made my love for him bloom quicker.

Within hours of leaving the hospital, my mom was put up in a residence on the other side of town, with everything she could ever need, stocked inside.

Within days Nesto was successfully transferred to a five star facility, who specialised in childhood cancer. I had been given an actual job, with a real salary and my own office, had several accounts in various names set up for me. Life insurance policies were drawn up and fake passports had been procured.

I was usually the one to fix things. To press forward with a plan, but with him, I didn't need to for once. It made me feel like could trust him to be there when I needed him most. And he would come through for me when it came to material things. Being my emotional safe haven was more than he was capable of though. That, I would learn much later down the line.

"You like'em mamí?" He was resting his chin on my head, watching me tear up in the reflection of the mirror. He hated the pretences of some people made, before finally taking his gifts, so I didn't bother telling him I couldn't accept them. And for the sake of my sanity, I didn't even begin to try and think about how much these pieces cost.

"I love them, Lo. Thank you so much for this. I don't know what I did to deserve it, but I can't put into words how much I appreciate this, papí." He seemed exceedingly pleased with himself, and chuckled when I shot up and hugged him tighter than I thought I was capable of doing.

"This is only a small token of my appreciation, V. You deserve to be spoiled, baby." The words were slightly muffled as I had a pretty good grip on his neck, but I heard them anyway.

I couldn't help but feel compelled to give him another kiss. After raining an silly amount of them down on his face, he finally got a word in edgewise.

"You know, I've had these for a while. I've been wanting to ask you to be my girl, but you had a real nigga real nervous." A boyish bashfulness found his face, and for the first time since Vegas, he blushed.

Disbelief was floating in the air. He still couldn't believe I said yes, and I couldn't believe he was so scared to ask me.

"You have no idea what you do to me, do you?" Apparently, I didn't. I was starting to get an idea though.

"I think you'd do a better job showing me, than you could telling me." The call back to our first time made us both chuckle. It felt like we'd known each other so much longer than we actually did.

"Something like that. You really don't forget anything, do you?" I exaggeratedly shook my head back and forth, because he was right.

I remembered everything.

"I doooooo. So you better act right, or yo' ass gon' get left!" Reticent to give ultimatums, this is as close to it as I was going to get. What had gone unsaid between us was the fact that I had agreed to forgive him for how he treated me when we first met. I understood that in order to have a shot at building a lasting relationship, I couldn't hang this as a dark cloud above his head.

But he needed ready to put the work in to become the man I knew he could be, otherwise, I would be on my way. Only that was much easier said than done.

"I'm gonna make you my wife, and the mother of my kids. Consider whatever I need to do to make that happen done."

He was certainly convincing.

The reality of this statement looked so different to the imagery it evoked. Instead of growing and evolving, he would do nothing but try to pressure me down the aisle, via with the threat of pregnancy.

But at the time, it felt like he was stating his intentions, and giving me a goal to hold him accountable to.

And I fucked with the vision.

It was just his method that I drew the line at.

I'd never felt loved like this before, though. I had my suspicions about how he felt, but he left so much up in the air when I came to us, that I never wanted to trust in it fully.

However, as I started coating his lips in love and gratitude with my own it all became crystal clear.

I loved him and he loved me back.

And my hope was that we would start making moves towards a life that intertwined us together for an eternity. There was nothing that could have made me regret the way thing had happened that day.

Ours was a tale that started as a sad, jagged one, but had beaten the odds, and transformed into something more beautiful than I could have imagined.

Un amor inmortal.

ACT IX - TELL THA PAPARAZZI GET THE LENS RIGHT
ANGELO

"Keep it on." At this point, she was willing to do just about anything I asked of her. So she lowered her arms, stopping the attempt she made to unclasp the first of the many necklaces she had on.

I wanted to see her illuminated by the jewellery I placed on her.

Having found our way back to the bed, she interrupted our rapidly escalating situation to take the fine jewellery off.

It was when I insisted that she kept it on that the idea must have come to her.

Instead of settling back on top of me, V reached over for my phone and unlocked it, before finding the camera app.

"Tell you what... how about we immortalise this moment, huh? It would be a chance to redeem yourself and prove you can actually take a decent picture of me." I stopped listening after she suggest I made her my muse.

I was no artist, but my lady made up for it by being a walking  masterpiece. Instead, I would take on the role of her beholder tonight.

The mood lighting was perfect for the occasion, and after a brief conversation of how she wanted to be captured, we started.

She had sent me many a nude, all of the "no face, no case" variety, but tonight she told me she felt secure enough to pose in her full glory for me.

The first shots showed her sitting the edge of the bed, with effortlessly tousled hair, looking straight at me. The seductive overtones of her expression only served to inflate my ego. I was the only one that could elicit such a desire in her.

She covered her breasts with her hands, while simultaneously displaying her new gifts. As the camera roll filled with her likeness, similar frames of her biting her lip and tossing her head back with pleasure found their home in the binary of zeros and ones. Head on, profile, three quarters; she was getting more confident with every shot.

I was completely entranced, and focused on producing the finest images humanly possible. My eyes carried floods of lust; she had completely changed how I looked at women. She was my type. The epitome of sensuality, poise and quiet confidence.

So fucking sexy.

The next photo set saw her showing off that infamous arch, face barely visible behind her hair. Although the jewels adorning her décolletage weren't visible in the position, her hand resting on the edge of the mattress showed off the wrist candy.

Even though I'd only had a few glasses of champagne, I felt almost intoxicated by the feeling of being desired. She wanted me as bad as I wanted her, with tonight was the pinnacle of my stint as an voyeur.

I got her from all angles, and sides, making sure everything was in frame and focus.

Unsurprisingly, we only got a few shots of her after she rid herself of the last piece of fabric on her body. At that point I had reached the end of my patience, and tossed my phone aside to make the kind art I actually enjoyed participating in and being witness to.

The kind no money could buy.

And we're back! The second bonus chapter is huge! We get a look at the night my two stubborn little babies made it official! Lots and lots of jealousy for your nerves!

Miss Chanel tried it! But Vangelo denied it and walked right by it!

Sidebar: Do we like Vangelo as their couple name? Or is Anessa better?

We also got to see Malia and Vince creepin 👀👀
Vince said don't play with him!

VV got iced out! And got to model her new gifts ❤️‍🔥

On another note, we hit 6k reads!

A BIG THANKS TO Y'ALL AS ALWAYS 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

I think we've got a couple new readers, so a big welcome to you all! I hope you've enjoyed the book as much as I have loved writing it.

In fact, I love writing this story so much I can't stop. Which is why I'm writing one more bonus chapter before I share the new book with you all.

I want your input this time though!

I feel like I've really filled in their story as much as I can, and am playing with a couple of ideas, but want to bring you all what you want to see.

I'm thinking of writing an alternate reality, showing what life could have looked like if their circumstances were different. I'm also playing with the idea of giving y'all a glance at 6 months after Vanessa and Malia left, as a little sneak at what's to come. (Just to let y'all know, the second book picks up three and a half years after the end of the first.)

Or I could do the last chapter lost files style and give you all a couple of one shots, maybe of some of our favourite supporting characters? Or finally, I was thinking maybe giving y'all a bonus of how Monique and Toni met and fell in love, y'know a lil swirl action? 👀

Let me know what you'd like to see! Feel free to suggest something! Whoever responds will get a shoutout at the end of the last bonus chapter, as I love to give credit where it's due!

LOVE YOU LONG TIME - DUCHESS 🤍🤍🤍