𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄 | 𝐀𝐔𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐘
SOMETIMES, MEN DIDN'T DESERVE RIGHTS.
Smashing a glass bottle into Jerome Butler's head was often on my mind. He was unpleasant to the brink of becoming creepy, and he sought to assert his dominance whatever chance he had, yet he appeared to have a special fondness for me for a reason I understood all too well. He thought I was exotic, he always made it a point to share that, as if my brown skin existed for the purpose of fetishisation.
He was a proud pain in the ass, but I didn't cross lines with him when he was also the second-in-command to Alisha Finley's leading company and fuck —did I fawn at that woman's feet for her contagious intelligence and resilience, hoping one day I too would find my standing.
Finley Consolidated took pride in making significant advances in developing cutting-edge sectors like biotechnology and boasted subsidiaries across the United States as well as internationally, having bases in Canada, and more prominently in Russia.
Its main office was located just outside of Terence Square and could be spotted among all the huge monoliths, great big glass walls and doors that piled on top of another, and stood branded with a streak of its signature gold right at the top. It wasn't easy to not take notice of its prominent presence, when it was plastered all over the media and was one of the tallest buildings.
I was deeply immersed in the division of modern biotechnology. My position gave me a seat at the table when it came to quarterly meetings, access to all our labs in Pennsylvania, and being a young woman of colour that was every bit as rewarding among a sea of balding men who were too busy perusing the length of my legs —to actually focus on any of Alisha's words.
"What might we have planned for the coming quarter in terms of events?" Alisha questioned broadly. "Anybody?"
She pointedly looked at me, suggesting I speak up. Over time she and I had built some rapport, and I didn't take it for granted either because a lot of strings had been pulled for me to be here today.
I met Alisha's brown gaze hesitantly, as she awaited for me to step in, her hand on her hip while she switched off the parabolic reflector behind her.
"Well?" Jerome pressed. "What is it, Smith?"
The man he was expecting to step in was shamelessly sharpening a pencil and only looked up when Alisha scoffed and looked my way again, clearing her throat.
"I have a suggestion." I finally breathed out a puff of air and spoke up. "The first regional Pharmaceutical Conference and Expo was such a hit in Philly, it makes sense to have a repeat, though perhaps on an international level and dress it up as a Benefit too."
"Tell us more." Alisha mused, cocking her head.
"Academics, practitioners, and business experts would be able to address the most recent controversies in pharma and namely biotech." I took a slow breath before continuing, trying not to fumble over my own words. "Some of us were thinking perhaps we could have graduates from schools and colleges participate too, and that we could assist them in linking directly with researchers this time. Offer internships and scholarships through us. A less formal, black tie event could work. It's just a thought."
"That's going to be one expensive night." Jerome grumbled.
"We have the money." Alisha arched her brow. "There's no issue there."
"It's worth it." Someone beside me mused. "It'll draw in partners and investors if done right."
"Waste of time." Jerome coughed out.
"I think Naomi and her team might be onto something. Do you think you can draw up a plan?" Alisha queried.
"I'm sure we can." I responded with triumph.
"Well, that concludes our meeting. I hope we are all agreeable on what will be planned in our next quarterly meet." Alisha folded her arms across her chest and collated her files, a sign that the meeting was officially done and dusted.
A sound of approval left the mouths of those seated in the conference room and at the wave of her hand she dismissed them all, but me. She used her hand to do just as much, brief and beckoning.
The others hurriedly started to gather their things and filed out of the door, yet she pointedly waited for Jerome to exit, who couldn't believe why I was being included at all, when I was known to work only behind the scenes. He eventually left and I stood on my heels, patiently waiting for Alisha to speak, letting out a trapped exhale.
There was a reason why I looked up to her and that was because she unapologetically had my back as if she was able to completely soak up my determination to stand out, being an Afro-Puerto Rican, women of colour —we had to be allies in order to be taken seriously. To further add onto this, she even pronounced my name the ethnic way without struggling.
Nah-yow-mih had a certain flair to it from her lips.
"I should head down." I told Alisha, wondering what was taking her so long. "Wyatt's only gone and spilled coffee on his monitor again."
"You'll leave in a moment." She just about smiled. "I just wanted to have a word with you before you left."
"Of course." I pressed my lips into a fine line and listened.
"You stayed past your shift again." Alisha started gingerly, "I've checked your logs and you don't time out until late. No doubt your job is demanding and you're great at what you do, perhaps better than your male counter-parts. But, it begs the question if you have a life outside?"
"I'm not insulted that you think that, because I appear to not have a life." I said easily humoured. "But this is the just the start of my career. You're only in your position because you didn't stop working hard. I look up to you."
"That doesn't mean I let people treat me like a doormat. Though, I guess I'm happy Jerome hired you, over that dimwit from Caltech." She chuckled and I forced myself to entertain her with a bubbling laughter that pushed itself up my throat.
"Well, I'm honoured to work for you." I shot her a genuine smile and hoped that she didn't have anything else to say.
"I'm saying live a little, go have fun. Get drunk tonight and come in late tomorrow, you know? Don't waste what's left of your good days slaving away here." She shrugged causally and I tried not to let my jaw drop to the floor at her absurd suggestion. "Don't make it a habit of staying back so late, or I might have to deactivate your key card."
"Of course, ma'am." I agreed with her curtly and waited for her to finish up and after a few minutes of back and forth, she was ready to let me go.
My breath whooshed out, determined and harsh as I made my way down the long-winded silver hallways, muttering under my breath about how inconvenient it was that my boss was checking my logs and hence knew how long I was spending in the lower-level, supposedly glued behind computer screens, even if that wasn't where I always was. It wouldn't bode well for me if anyone looked deeper into it.
I clambered into the elevator hastily and punched the buttons to my right, though the doors pushed open when Lindsey from HR stepped forward with her files, an overbearing grin pasted onto her face.
"Hey, Naomi, how are you doing? I've not seen you in a while?" She laughed, "Ground floor?"
I nodded, pulling out my phone and taking a look at the blinking notifications. "I'm good. What's new with you?"
"A couple of us are getting together tonight after work," She shared cheerfully, "You know of that dingy club in the city centre, right off Barton? Well, it's been newly refurbished after its sudden shut down last year. I can get your name on the list. Why don't you come along? It'll be fun, come on."
"Barton?" I told her, waiting for her acknowledgment. "I'm in. I didn't realise that area was open for business."
"It seems it is now." She mused. "Not quite so sketchy as it was before. Cleaner and more sophisticated."
"I'll be there."
I stormed off, motivated and primed for the game ahead, telling myself that one night of relaxing and small talk wouldn't particularly destroy my routine, especially when I could use it to my advantage and kill two birds with one stone.
Barton was infamous for many things. Closing down clubs that broke too many rules and endangered lives was one of them.
My knees dragged me down a narrow stairwell, and I quickened my pace to get to the tile-slabbed, bright hub, my eyes scanning for a familiar face.
"Tia!" I called out, upon spotting her form hunched over the coffee machine.
She took her sweet time turning around, but beamed at me, her smile reaching her almond eyes. "Yes, woman?"
"You better have a lucky pair of panties or something." I leaned my hip against a pillar. "Because there's something we have to do."
"I have a lucky sock." She mused. "The other disappeared. What's going on, though?"
"We're taking a break tonight." I said definitively, "We're having a night out with some others, I'll have Adam come too. We need to be there. At Barton."
"You sure that's a good idea?" She dropped her voice, until she was whispering and I had to lean closer to actually hear the words coming out from her pink lips. "We have to work and I don't know what the plan is."'
"Just a few hours." I reasoned. "We never go out. I never go out. This counts as work too, trust me. It'll benefit the both of us."
She brushed her hair back from her eyes and pressed her lips together in a fine line, before deciding to hand me her espresso. Without speaking a word, I latched my lips onto her mug and sipping the scorching coffee, my head tilted as I inspected her calm demeanour.
"Tonight?" She sighed. "Jerome will throw a fit if the deadline isn't met. We don't have long left to pursue the project."
I all but winced, setting her mug down. "You know I'm relentless, T, so are you. But don't you think I realise what's at cost here?"
Her eyes softened and she groaned, a brief but defeated sigh that notified me that I had won my case; she always gave in to me easily.
"Your espresso tastes like ass." I finally said to break the looming silence.
"Eat ass a lot, do you?" She drawled, deeply amused.
We both broke out laughing, and the previous moment washed away at once. Despite joining Finley's over a year ago, I hit it off with Tia at once, who had become my work wife over time. Finding a similar commonality between us some time ago was what drove the friendship further, however. She was one of the constants in my life and for good reason too.
She was a Harvard graduate, but more interestingly, the heiress to her families New Zealand modern pharmaceuticals company. Except she opted to spend her time glued to her computers, pretending to be more engaged in coding, so she could avoid packing up her things and moving there instead.
"No lucky panty," She said seriously, "You're sure as hell not taking more than one drink when the Sparta Project requires your undivided attention. Ditching the glasses?"
"Not a chance." I narrowed my eyes at her, and picked myself up from her spinning chair, before beelining for the door. "I'll pick you up at seven on the dot, be ready!"
❥
"It smells like pheromones in here."
Adam Ridley, my college sweetheart and partner-in-crime, —though metaphorically— surveyed the area, and I suppressed the impulse to frown at him since he couldn't help but roll his eyes.
Habit had him making unnecessary comments and appearing like he didn't belong, his hands stuffed into his expensive coat pockets, as if someone would come up behind him and seize his wallet, despite the venue being an insanely exclusive place.
Montanna's, the club, was already bustling with activity.
The venue had been in operation since the late 1970's, and it used to be an expensive Russian bordello and cabaret. But, now it was seemingly a hotspot for sophisticated socialites and gang-bangers alike after being renovated into a nightclub, and appeared to be staying faithful to the original Russian flair.
The luxurious scarlet and gold furnishings, as well as the Gothic architecture design and velvet alcoves, paid homage to the venue's provocative past. While the resident DJ pumped heavy electro music in the background and patrons mingled at the bar or at reserved intimate tables, it seemed everybody was sinking further down a rabbit hole of fun.
"Looks like a sex club." Tia whistled, eyes wandering. "If Barton was once scaring people away, it'll have them crawling people back now."
We were both studying a hostess who sauntered past us, dressed in a leather ensemble that exhibited her voluptuous curves and rear-end with ease. Now I was the one who was whistling, considering women's empowerment and all —she was hot and I wanted to ask what shampoo made her hair so shiny.
It wasn't long before I spotted Lindsey and the other's drinking at a booth in the back, laughing at something Rhys from Security was joking about. It was a sexist joke, a particularly misogynistic one, and it made me want to slam my fist into his mouth and rip his head out upon acknowledging it, but nobody would ever guess that was how I felt.
"I just really don't think that a father needs to help bathe or clean his daughters —the mother should do that. It would be incredibly uncomfortable otherwise, I imagine." Rhys threw his arms behind his back and settled in lower, as I sunk in next to Lindsey, followed by Adam and Tia.
They too were unimpressed by Rhys and his commentary and knew very well that if he continued spewing more bullshit from his crusty lips, it wouldn't bode well for him.
"Why's that?" Lindsey looked at him curiously and pushed her hand beneath her chin.
"Some things should simply remain private. The mother brings the child into the world, does she not? That should be her headache, and a man deals with enough as it is at work where he's slugging his ass off to put food on the table." Rhys rambled out, as if what he was speaking was facts and everybody was on the same page as him. "They don't need to be changing diapers too."
Adam sighed loudly, his hand dropped to his knee, and although he wasn't known to be confrontational, since I had known him in college, he wasn't interested in tonight ending with a brawl —especially at such a crowded place like Montanna's. I gently tapped his knee, as if telling him we should just leave it.
"I suppose your sperm didn't have a single objective then?" He frowned. "Hit it and quit it type of guy, by the looks of it."
"My wife is perfectly fine with taking care of our daughter, all on her own." Rhys insisted. "Why wrap it up, when our bits are made with the intention of breeding?"
Lindsey scowled at that, but Wyatt slapped his back in approval and they burst into synchronised laughter.
Anger simmered within me, but I bit my tongue and once again let Adam take the ropes as I ushered over a waitress and ordered myself a cocktail, despite Tia's disapproving look. There was no way in hell that I was going to stay calm during this conversation otherwise.
Once it was before me, I sharply inhaled and tried to focus on my soft laundry detergent instead, that was lingering on my off-the-shoulder dress, synched at the waist to create a curvier illusion.
"Your wife works too," Adam conversed, "Hell, she's juggling two different things at once."
"Right." Lindsey inputted mumbling, pink faced.
"Know what I like about Naomi here." Rhys piped up. "She keeps her mouth shut, and doesn't give her opinion."
"Have some shame." Adam snappily retorted. "You just can't handle that women are also capable of doing more than looking after children."
"Damn right." Tia seethed.
That appeared to irritate Wyatt more than Rhys, as he started a full discussion about women and their innate maternal desires, but not every woman was the same. I would have run miles away and buried myself if I had a child like Rhys or Wyatt.
My knuckles became pale as I clutched something for support while I sipped my Cosmopolitan like a good little girl and let the men's discourse drift into the background. Anyone who was aware of my body language, with the exception of Tia, didn't exhibit it.
The cosmo lime, the sweet Cointreau, and the tart cranberry were all on my palate, but all I could think about was my mounting irritation, so I compelled myself to focus on a certain group of men huddled up in almost identical jackets, cigarettes hanging from their lips, and their eyes surveying the surroundings hungrily.
I didn't need to observe them for long, to acknowledge that they were a part of a gang, in particular Terence Town's biggest problem right now —coined the Marty boys— yet on the lower end of the food chain.
Even so, they were growing like parasitic bacteria, recruiting on the sly, causing havoc when possible, grooming whoever that was in their path; except most of their talents went unnoticed or was brushed under the rug, due to a lack of resources and missing evidentiary files, according to local law enforcement.
I was supposed to be frightened to be anywhere near them, but I was utterly curious and in the mood to delve into trouble, observant that they seemed to be waiting for something to happen, a domino effect of some sort, and when my gaze fell on one of them, blonde and pale, standing out among his buddies —I knew it was an opportunity to confirm some of my suspicions and get myself some answers.
Hopeful I had myself the perfect target, I slithered out of my seat, whispering to Tia that I'd be just a moment and was off to the restroom when I fully intended not to. The Marty boy I had set my sights on followed suit, exactly as I had wished and his eyes were currently fixated on my rear-end.
As I approached a secret passageway, which admittedly led to restrooms and private chambers of some type, free of any camera, I made the move to slow down a little, skimming my palm over my thighs to lift my dress higher and exhibit more of my form, so he had something to really be interested about.
Perhaps misogyny had to be exploited as a weapon at times, for my own benefit. Tia didn't approve of my forced-call-girl vibes though. She could see it from a mile away and knew what was coming.
"Are you following me?" I whipped around on my heels, and placed my hand in between us, resting my back against the wall scattered with the face of the Montanna's founders. My expression was coy, my lips parted. I knew I looked taken aback. This wasn't me. I wasn't that girl.
But I could be.
"You wanted me to follow you, didn't you?" His voice came off gravelly and harsh, but his eyes were set alight with fire and I thanked myself for letting my hair down tonight, because it acted as a shield somewhat, as did my angular frames.
My lips moved up a smidgen, but I didn't allow it to take over my features as I soaked him up, now that he was closer to me. He wasn't menacing in the slightest, if anything he was overly confident and had set out on a mission tonight, one that would reward me.
"What's your name?" He questioned.
"You'll have to earn that." I replied calmly.
"How can I?" His eyes lifted with humour.
"Well, I don't know if it's worth talking to you about. But a friend of mine told me there's a club the Marty boy's run." I explained carefully, while my curiosity surged ahead of me, watching the tick in his jaw at the knowledge I was already aware of his roots. "I would love to be invited to it. I've been wanting to get in, for such a long time now."
"Since you've beard about Fitz's, then you would also know the ladies are picked," He said in a low voice, "I don't get to decide who gets in, or out for that matter. You know that?"
"Well, that's a shame, isn't it...?" I trailed off, creasing my brow as if I didn't know of him already.
"Darren." He smirked. "How is it that a girl like you knows all about Fitz's? I mean it when I tell you that everybody who gets in, is chosen. You don't look like you're someone who meets the criteria. Virtuous looking thing, you are."
Which was precisely his type.
"What's it going to take to get my foot in the door?" I lowered my voice, defensive even, ignoring his obvious prejudice towards me. "I know more than I'm letting on and I'd be the perfect fit. I'm just aching all over to be noticed for once in my life."
Darren groaned, took a step back, and seemed to evaluate my words, and I knew before he said anything that he had already warmed up to a woman he barely knew, solely because she was prepared to show him some skin and give him doe eyes that he had no business admiring so much.
My desperation on top of it all was what really drove him to his answer though. It was a beacon of light.
"It's always the innocent looking one's. Okay." He spoke up after a moment. "There's something you have to do first."
"I'm game." I clicked my tongue and changed my demeanour to match his, though my heart was beating so fast against my rib cage.
I watched him fumble, pulling open his jacket to shove his hands inside pockets, deeper than I imagined, until he emerged with something that he didn't give me the chance to register, before he thrusted it into my hands.
"What is this?" I piped up, cheeks flushed as I met his gaze.
"Your way in, at least with me." He shrugged. "Sell it all by Friday, then meet me back here anytime after happy hour. I'll be waiting."
He walked away before I could let out a sound of protest, so I slumped defeatedly against the crooked frame behind me, letting out a strained breath, profanities rushing out from behind my lips, while I examined the MDMA pills that were strewn inside the small clear bags.
Friday was less than forty-eight hours away, and Darren was a fool for thinking I'd sell it in the first place, but the point was that he'd entrusted me with the absurd task at all, because I knew about Fitz's —the epicentre of Terence Town's most precarious activities, which only the Marty boys would be able to speak in regards to as they answered to whoever was really behind the doors.
I needed my way in and as much as I hated to admit it, I had genuine reasons to wrap myself up in such a mess, knowing the possible consequences. But it made me feel disgusting holding drugs or even knowing that I myself now had access to the damn tablets.
When the sound of shuffling reached my ears, I hurriedly packed the drugs into the small bag I had with me. As Adam rounded the corner, the zipper let out an anxious shriek, and I gave him a consoling smile.
"Ready to leave?" I said calmly, pulling my act together.
"Yes, please." He grumbled. "I've got an early morning. This is the last place we should have come to."
"Sorry. Tia still here?" I piped up, falling in line beside him.
"She's gone." Adam replied. "Something about needing to water her plants."
"Typical." I exhaled. "Sounds like her."
I shouldn't have forced her to come here.
He didn't answer back, he remained silent, even when we were seated by each other in his red Benz convertible, and he was pulling away from the scene, bathed by street lights that flickered along his dark skin, and the night breeze stirring locks of my long hair into sweet agony.
I messaged my temple, contemplating the narcotics that I was now in possession of and had the responsibility of selling as well as keeping hidden, given they were especially produced by the Marty boys themselves, they had to be with the specific branding and design. I didn't want to have to explain what I was doing with them, or expose myself, given my delicate situation and circumstances.
Darren was my way in to Fitz's, and I wasn't going to hold back, not when I needed answers that could lead to the ultimate truth. My desperation was making my jaw tick, as Adam and I pulled up to the driveway and he drove into the garage smoothly, with me walking out behind him.
"I'm going to head straight to bed." Adam told me, while I kicked at little rocks beneath my feet as he pushed past me and gestured at my home.
"Goodnight." I responded, entirely robotic and monotonous.
He pressed his lips into a fine line and I let him ago. He set down the cobblestone path leading to the porch and was out of reach, leaving me to clutch onto my bag like it was carrying the finest diamonds.
The street was calm, dreary, and almost devoid of activity, despite the fact that it was late at night and there was nothing to illuminate the area other than the big lighting that had just recently been installed in our gated community. I stood glued to my location, tapping my foot, fists at my sides, blinking at the abandoned property opposite me as I listened to the rustle of the leaves.
I wasn't alone though, a familiar purring reached my ears, and I acknowledged the stray Persian cat that liked to wander the streets at this time of night. I always protested that I ought to keep her, give her a permanent home even, except Adam was dreadfully allergic to any fur-ball animal, and would break out in the ghastliest of rashes as a result, just from near proximity.
The cat meowed and I knew she wanted my attention, because Kai was running in circles around me, about to start clawing at my Italian heels, unless I quickly did something to hush her. She was perched on my arm and eyeing up the home in my sight within moments and I was rolling my eyes at the fact the creature had me wrapped around her finger.
Even if each immaculate piece of property sported polished fences, enormous beige bricks, refined by sleek glass and ostentatious super cars, there was only one particular manor-like colonial home that everyone on Grove Street liked to comment on.
Thayer house looked as pristine and luxurious as it had been when the colossal structure of a home had been bustling with life and people. Its walls had paint that was in the best standing, and even the grass was greener across the porch, regardless of the fact that nobody had lived here for almost ten years now.
Even the gothic, water Gargoyle planted in the centre of the vast driveway had more life to it than much of the people that roamed these ends.
"That's odd." I bit out, furrowing my brows.
Kai only cooed, indicated she was listening to me.
"Something isn't right." I continued my perusal.
It didn't take me long to register the fact that a light was switched on, two floors up, to the right, opposite my childhood bedroom.
"That's not possible." I whispered to myself.
Kai scratched at my hand in response, and as if she was completely aware of what was running through my head, she nuzzled closer, urging me to bore my eyes through thick glass.
"Come on, come on." I said through clenched teeth.
Then the lights went out, confirming my suspicions.
➽───────────────❥
AUTHOR'S NOTE
Hello everyone, hope you're doing well. Thank you so much for checking out the first chapter to a new novel that is only exclusive to Wattpad, and intended to be updated weekly or twice a month.
I hope you enjoyed it, although it was an uneventful one, I'd say. Keep in mind, some chapter lengths will also vary, as it all depends on how I'm feeling when writing and the demand to update.
Question: What brought you to my book? How did you find it? Did you spot it in a reading list/ did somebody recommend it? Did you randomly find it?