10. Solene Brownlee

SAME TIME, ELSEWHERE…

I sucked my teeth seeing Yolani's little minions still in my comments calling me everything but a child of God. Them hos were ruthless, going in on my body, face, hair, and even a tribute photo of my grandmother. It got so bad I had to delete the bitch's name out of my caption, but it did nothing to alleviate the issue.

I would've never tagged her, but Cemone hadn't been responding to my usual tactics. Then he had the nerve to post a photo with the kids, blowing the lid off my whole deadbeat shit, so I had to do something to get his attention and switch the focus back to the narrative I'd already painted. So far, the only thing it accomplished was people talking about me in the worst way.

"I wouldn't have even done that. You know her fans are literal psychopaths." Ananda frowned.

"Yeah, but we both know the bitch has been getting negative attention for dealing with Cemone, so I thought people would be on my side." I sighed.

"Yeah, they can talk about her but not you."

"I've gathered that, Ananda, thank you." I rolled my eyes at her soft and simple ass. "Not everyone can be spineless like you. I know it's a talent only you possess." I chuckled, painting my lips in gloss as she and I sat backstage at Golden Peach.

The whole back room was live with dancers as they played music on their phones, primped their appearances, drank shots, and twerked their asses, all to loosen up for the night. I'd been stripping since I was nineteen years old, so this was a regular old day for me. I didn't need half the shit these bitches did just to swing my ass around a pole.

"I'm not spineless. I just don't see the point in causing all this drama with him, especially when it's not true, Solene. You know if you affect his career, it affects our child support."

Turning to her in my chair, I said, "I hope you don't think that being a weak bitch is gonna make Cemone fuck with you. You think he's gonna wake up and say ‘oh, Ananda is such a doormat, I think I'm gonna wife her.'" I held my hands in prayer mode before laughing at her stupid ass and shaking my head.

"No, I don't think that. Nothing wrong with being cordial. Like yours, my life has improved since he came into it. Had I not had his baby, there is no telling where I would be."

I shook my head at how stupid Ananda was.

"How, when you still have to shake your ass for money, Ananda? The real perks come when he's actively fucking with you." I set my eyebrow pencil down, turning again so she'd listen to me. "That little fifteen grand we get a month is a drop in the bucket compared to what a bitch fucking with him will get."

Ananda and I had, in a sense, played ourselves, because the whole point in having a rich baby daddy, especially one in the three hundred club, AKA an NBA player with a three hundred million dollar or more contract, was to be able to live in the lap of luxury without having to lift a finger. And as one could see, that wasn't the case for Ananda nor me.

Initially, things were going good when we found out we'd be getting fifteen grand a month, more than I had ever made doing any fucking thing. Hell, it was far more than my first baby daddy and current man Ross had ever given me and routinely at that. However, after making all the necessary upgrades to my life, that money got swallowed up quicker than expected.

With sixty-five hundred dollar rent, high ass utilities, a two thousand dollar car note, a taste for luxury brands, and then beauty maintenance like top of the line wigs and extravagant nails, by the time I was done paying for the necessities, I was left with a measly twelve hundred dollars and therefore had to still show up on stage every week at Golden Peach, which was embarrassing, to say the least. Everyone knew who my baby daddy was and that he was beyond wealthy, so I shouldn't have had to do anything.

My man at the moment felt like because we cohabitated and I was essentially bringing in more than him, that he only needed to throw me a couple thousand here and there or when our daughter needed something. And because I had done him wrong by having another nigga's baby while still with him, I let the shit slide.

Honestly, if I'd known Cemone would be this type of baby daddy, I would've never jeopardized my relationship with Ross. I figured at the time, though, I would become Cemone's main and, therefore, did what I had to do to secure my position.

"Yeah, but he won't fuck with us," Ananda reminded me. "So we have to deal with what we got." She conceded like she always did. This bitch was a folding chair in human form because that was literally all she did when it came to our child's father.

I hated calling him our because I'd set my sights on him first, and the bitch hadn't made a peep about him the whole time. Yet, suddenly, she'd wanted in on him.

When I first caught sight of Cemone one night at the club, I just knew I had to have him. He was one of the handsomest NBA players, cocky as fuck, which turned me on, and extremely rich. He was like fresh meat to a lot of us, and we knew the one who locked him down would be one of the luckiest bitches which was gonna be me.

I didn't get him that night, but I set out to, and after a month of plotting, I finally caught my big fish when one of my homegirls got invited to one of his mansion parties and invited me along, knowing I was into Cemone bad.

See, I wasn't new to the game, because I'd gotten my first baby daddy the same way, except when I met Ross, he wasn't the simple social media model he is now. He was an NFL player making plenty of money. Sadly, shortly after I gave birth to our daughter, Novie, he got injured and couldn't play as well as he used to which eventually led to early retirement.

Ever since then, he'd been making most of his money from sponsorships and endorsements, but as you may have guessed, it wasn't racking in the millions his NFL career once did. He wasn't a big saver during his time of making all that money, splurging on himself, his family, me, and then our daughter, so there wasn't much left to keep up our current lifestyle at the time.

During all of this, I tried to hold him down, but I noticed my attraction to him had waned now that he wasn't making the big bucks and wasn't highly sought after. And I wasn't anything to shake a stick at, especially since Ross had paid for me to have a mommy makeover soon after I birthed our baby. By saying that, I was still hot on the market.

Plenty of other niggas tried to get at me before and after Ross, but I never granted them access to me. I was well known from being a top dancer at Golden Peach, so often, niggas of all kinds came through the strip club, begging for a piece. I would sell their asses a dream and make my money, then send them on their fucking way though. However, Cemone was just different, causing me to be drawn to his young ass.

Anyway, like I knew, when Cemone saw Golden Peach royalty, he was into it and fucked me better than niggas twice his age the same night. He wouldn't agree to go in condom-less like Ross had, no matter what I said, but as luck would have it… I ended up pregnant anyway. Elated was an understatement for how I felt when my ob-gyn confirmed that when I got pregnant was around the same time I'd fucked Cemone. I thought it was the beginning of a new life for me full of trips, material goods of all kinds, and bragging rights on the hottest nigga in the NBA, but I was beyond wrong.

I should've peeped game early on because once he fucked me, he never talked to me again, completely ignoring me if we saw one another out, never replying to my direct messages or comments, and basically acted as if he had no idea who I was.

"No, you have to just take what you get. I don't lie down and let shit happen to me. I'm proactive about mine." I pinned my hair up at the top as I talked my shit to Ananda.

I thought things would change once I told Cemone I had a baby, but it didn't. I then found out Ananda had fucked him too, which foiled my plan even fucking more. I hated her for the shit at first, but we re-bonded when we realized Cemone wasn't fucking with either of us in the way we had hoped.

I tried for months to get Cemone's attention but only after I had our baby, telling Ross it was his baby in the meantime, then finally, Cemone reached out but let me know he would help mildly until the child was proven to be his. I accepted the money he gave me at the time and then promptly filed a paternity suit so I could get paid and have him on record as the father before Ananda could. But, of course, her copycat ass had to get in on that too.

News broke shortly after that Cemone Compton had gotten two women pregnant at the same time, Ananda taking my shine. I wanted to be the first and only one, but she just couldn't let that shit happen. At least I had Ross, though, who, as angry as he was with me for getting knocked up by another nigga, still loved me.

Even then, though, I had hope that Cemone and I would become a family, because no nigga would choose Ananda over me, but I was sadly mistaken. Still, Cemone wanted nothing to do with me, only his son. He made it clear from day one we would only be cordial for our kid, but we wouldn't be fucking or having the typical baby daddy, baby mama relationship.

Then to make matters worse, his brainiac ass brother helped him get a fixed child support amount of fifteen grand, which I stupidly accepted since it sounded like so much money at the time. Looking back, I should've gone for 10 percent of his income like I initially planned.

I thought he would go back on his word about our relationship, but he didn't, so I resorted to dragging him on social media to get his attention. I definitely got it, but not in the way I wanted because once that shit kicked off, Cemone refused to interact with me in person indefinitely.

His mean ass mama and fine ass daddy were the only people I saw when it came to exchanging Callen, which had me beyond tight. That forced me to have to track and hunt Cemone down whenever I found out he was in the city, which took a lot of fucking work and fucked with my relationship. But how else was I going to get close to him if I didn't do all that?

In the end, though, none of this shit had gone how I thought it would. I assumed I would be Cemone's girl, considering he was a decade younger than me and would be easy to game. I was sadly mistaken, though, because the nigga paid me dust, and bitches in the industry were laughing behind their hands at me for it.

All of us in this position knew the whole point in getting knocked up by a nigga like Cemone was to upgrade your life, so having a rich baby daddy who paid you no mind was essentially pointless, especially when other bitches could get dick from him, bragging about it in front of me purposely, but I couldn't. What kind of shit was that? I should've had unlimited access, but the nigga wouldn't touch me.

Even worse, he treated Ananda better than me because at least he would allow her to see him by picking up their daughter himself. And him having a child with my best friend proved to these other bitches that I was nothing to him.

"I think fifteen is fine. I'm just gonna have to make some adjustments, though, because I used to be able to live lavishly and take care of Blakely on it, but now I can't. I'm wishing I took that house now." She sighed.

Cemone had offered us each a four-bedroom home in Lakewood, but I wanted a mansion and convinced Ananda to request the same thing. He, of course, denied it, stating the home in Lakewood was more than enough. It wasn't about being enough; it was about me reaping the benefits of being his baby mama. That situation left Ananda and I renting sky high ass homes, but I preferred it over that little home. It wasn't flashy enough.

"Look at Beverly, bitch! That ho is living good, and her nigga doesn't even make half of what Cemone does! She don't even work; all she does is lay up in his crib and live the good life, as she should." I scoffed, hating that bitch Beverly.

She had been cool with Ananda and me until she hit her lick with NBA player Ashton Sellers. He at first tried to deny it, but when that test came back, he changed his tune, wifing Beverly and pulling her from the strip club. I wanted that and figured since Cemone's brother Shakur had done that with the Presley bitch, it was already in his DNA.

"Yeah, but Ashton didn't have Bashar and his connections for a brother. She would've cleaned up on child support, so he knew it was cheaper to keep her."

"Anyway." I decided to switch subjects because, for that, I didn't have a rebuttal. She was right; Bashar swooping in and guiding Cemone and his family lawyer had fucked us. His brother made shit sound sweet, and it wasn't until months later that I realized fifteen was chump change. "This Yolani shit is only gonna make things worse for us." I sat back in my chair as the music from the club started up. It was almost time to open. I liked to go first, then spend the rest of my night scoping niggas with the fattest pockets.

"Yeah. I was thinking about that. Cemone has never been seen with the same woman this many times." She frowned.

"Right. The last one was Milaysia, but I wouldn't even call that together. More like her suddenly being exactly where he was all the damn time, with her thirsty ass."

Ananda and I shared a laugh as she ran the flat iron over her hair.

"Exactly. So what were you thinking? Not like we can do much because Cemone doesn't even associate with us, and we can't pop up on Yolani."

"We won't need to. Yolani has worked hard to build her decade long career, and she has a mean ass dad-ager who is not going to let her lose it all behind a nigga. Once enough bad publicity circulates, she's gonna let that nigga down easy. All we have to do is make sure that bad publicity gets amped up a bit. Do a little more than usual, but that means you can't let me do it alone."

Sure, I wanted Ananda to piss Cemone off enough so he'd subject her to the same treatment I got, but also, I knew what I was talking about. Yolani was a fucking workaholic, and it was obvious her career came first because she dated sporadically, rarely, and it was never for long, yet her music career was on a steady incline. She wasn't about to lose all that shit just to fuck with Cemone.

"I'm cool with that, but then what? Once Yolani stops fucking with him, how will that help us? It's not like he was fucking with us before she came into the picture." Ananda made a good point, pissing me off a bit.

"Yes, but there has always been the option, the possibility. With Yolani around, that will evaporate. You think Cemone is strict now, imagine once he marries and combines households with that bitch. We probably won't get shit."

Laughing, she replied, "Girl, Cemone ain't about to let no bitch control him nor is he about to settle down, especially with someone like her who probably ain't even fucked him yet. Cemone is a nigga who likes to be in charge and for shit to go his way. He likes his ego fed, and though I don't know Yolani, she gives me boss vibes. She not about to bend for him."

"You believe that shit if you want to, boo." I snickered as if I had some tea she wasn't privy to. "But she's already gotten the nigga to spend more than a night with her, and we know that's against the Cemone bylaw. Nigga was holding her hand and opening doors for her ass, but yeah, let you tell it, she can't convince him to settle down."

The only time I was out with Cemone was when we went from the backyard to the stripper room in the mansion to fuck, and the nigga walked miles ahead of me, leaving me to frolic behind with his crew of niggas. Gentleman wasn't even in his damn vocabulary that night because by the time I did find my way to the room, he wouldn't even let me get in the door good before he had his dick in my mouth. I remembered distinctly sucking him off with my purse still hanging off my shoulder.

Had he not had plenty of swag, been so damn handsome, and I hadn't already planned to fuck him, I would've changed my mind by how rude he was. I got chills thinking about how my legs were shaking so badly after he fucked me, that I could barely walk back to the backyard.

I say all that to say that the way he was acting with Yolani was abnormal for a nigga like him, and it bothered me for more reasons than one. Firstly that he didn't think I was good enough for such treatment, and secondly, she got to spend time with my baby daddy, who I could barely keep on the phone for more than two minutes. I was even jealous that my son got his time, and I didn't.

"I'm just kind of scared to upset him," Ananda admitted. "He's not exactly nice, and if we poke the bear too much, we could fuck ourselves out of this situation."

Cemone was known to be violent, fly off the handle, and tote a gun, so her worries were warranted, but I wasn't going to let that deter me or her.

"It's impossible to fuck ourselves out of this situation; we made sure of that." I winked. "But you clearly are in love with him, Ananda, and your chances will only get slimmer if he follows Shakur and Uncut and gets married." I hit her soft spot.

Ananda tried to play tough and play this game the way I did, but she was too soft. Though she'd only had a one-night stand, too, the bitch had fallen in love with Cemone and walked on eggshells around him, hoping that if she played good little baby mama, he would become interested in her. She never bad mouthed him, never argued with him, let him keep their daughter longer than he was supposed to, and just all kinds of shit. She didn't realize that Cemone had already made his mind up about her and who she was to him, so no matter how sweet she was, nothing would change.

I mean, that was obvious in the way he dissed her at Yolani's show. She'd called me hyperventilating and crying, had me thinking her mama had died or something.

As for me, I knew Cemone liked a challenge, and if I kept giving it to his ass, he just might make me his. If not, though, I always had Ross.

"You got about ten minutes, Solene." The manager of Golden Peach , Alyssa, peeked her head into the back.

"Okay." I stood, checking my phone once more as I switched to my locker to grab my shoes.

Venturing into the app, I typed in Yolani's name and noticed it wouldn't populate. Knowing she'd blocked me made me feel some type of way. Not only because I couldn't spy on her but because I was actually a fucking fan.

Pissed off, I screenshot her page after finding an old post of mine that I'd tagged her in from purchasing her little matcha, and put it up on my story. I typed in the caption on it stating that she blocked me because she knew I was speaking facts. Putting my shit on vibrate, I tossed it into my locker and switched out to get ready for my performance.

" F uck." Ross grunted, gripping my hips to make me pause riding him.

When I felt his fingers dig into my skin, I knew he was about to cum, so I quickly hopped off.

He came all over himself as I climbed out of the bed, gathering my shit so I could go clean up.

"What?" I frowned when I felt him watching me with a pissed off expression. I knew why he was mad, but I wasn't about to have another baby at thirty-seven years old, not by him at least.

"Why the fuck you hop off?" He cursed, finally sitting up after cleaning himself with the towel he'd set on the dresser. "Ruined my nut."

"Well I got mine a minute ago." I laughed, listening to him smack his lips.

I thought I loved Ross; I wasn't sure. It wasn't actual love if it was at all. It was just that I was comfortable with him, and he was a safety net. While he wasn't rich, he was far from broke, still handsome as ever, and still famous. He was a good backup nigga if I couldn't find a way to lock down Cemone or someone equally yoked.

I would always care for Ross because most niggas in his position wouldn't be fucking with me anymore, but because I stuck it out while he went through being dropped from the NFL, he forgave me for fucking another man and getting pregnant. It didn't matter how many of his homeboys told him to leave me where I was; he stuck beside me, and I appreciated him for that. He was a real nigga.

"Where was you last Saturday?" he asked randomly, slipping his boxers on.

"Probably work," I lied as he trailed me to the bathroom.

"Oh, you wasn't trying to get into the club bitch ass Cemone was at?" He leaned his tall frame in the doorway of my luxurious bathroom.

Every time I thought of downsizing to save money, I just couldn't. My place out in Santa Monica was just too fucking plush. Plus, I wanted bitches to know what the deal was when they saw my surroundings. It was bad enough I still had to dance. I wasn't about to be living in a simple ass house.

"I did go to a club, but I didn't know he was there." I lied again.

"You fucking lying, Solene! One of my niggas told me you was out there acting a fool when they wouldn't let you in! Same with the gym situation!" Ross fussed, spit flying from his mouth.

"Calm the fuck down!" I tied my robe around my body, seeing he wasn't about to let me get into the shower anytime soon. "The only fucking time I go places I know Cemone is at is because Ananda be begging me to!"

I had to throw my friend under the bus. She wouldn't mind, and plus, she owed me for fucking Cemone after me.

"Oh, aight." Ross scoffed.

"I'm serious! She is in love with him, and no matter how many times I tell her she's gonna make both of us look stupid, she still be chasing his ass! As far as the gym, I was already there, and he tried to fuck me, so I went off on his ass. They threw me out because of it."

He watched me, seemingly trying to decipher whether or not I was lying.

"You can't be doing shit just because Ananda want to. I get that's yo' friend and shit, but she the same friend who always trying to fuck behind you. Let her do that thirsty shit by herself because the shit be getting back to me, and I don't like it, Solene. You mine; how you think that shit make me look when people think you running up behind a nigga you cheated on me with?"

Padding toward him, I circled my arms around his built torso, hugging him to me.

"I get you, and I will do better with denying her requests. Ananda is my best friend though. Cemone was a one-night stand for me, so I'm not really tripping on her getting pregnant too. It's not like I went to get pregnant by him or even fuck him. I told you someone slipped something into my drink that night."

Yeah, I'd lied to Ross and told him one of Cemone's lackeys had given me ecstasy. I didn't want to say Cemone did it because I knew Ross would try to find him, and Cemone wasn't all there. Not to mention, Cemone hated me enough. I wasn't trying to pin a lie of that nature on him. So saying one of his boys that no one knew and whose face I conveniently couldn't remember did it, had been the safe route. That lie made it easier for him to forgive me too.

"I feel you. Like I said, though, I don't want you doing what she do. If she wanna run behind that nigga, let her, but you in a relationship, so some shit you gotta turn down."

"And I will." I smiled up at his alluring face, wishing he was still the Ross Lemon he was when we met. Because after the loss of his millions, constant trades, and eventual retirement, he was nothing but a walking dick for me right now. "Kiss?"

He smirked, leaning down some to press his lips to mine.

By the time I was out of the shower, Ross was gone, thankfully. He was going to Miami for one night, and it would be a night I had to myself because I didn't have to be at the club. I could just chill and watch some TV since my auntie had my kids for me, like always. I was too busy to be playing mommy all the damn time, so when it was my turn to have my son, I spent a day with him, then dropped him off to his great aunt while I waited for Cemone's time to grab him back up. As for my daughter, she went right with her brother when Ross was leaving town. I chuckled, thinking about how everyone hated Cemone for not being in his son's life when really, it was low-key me who was a deadbeat.

My phone rang, and I saw it was Beverly, so I promptly answered. I'd been in her comments and likes heavy as of lately, trying to get back into her circle either to get close to Cemone or catch a new victim. I was three years from forty and wanted to be sure I got all my use out of these eggs while I could and hopefully hit a better lick than Cemone Compton had been.

"Hey, girl!" I answered excitedly, already overjoyed at whatever she was calling me for.

"Hey, are you busy tonight? I know we haven't hung out in a while, and since my friends are busy, I thought we could link up like old times."

"Yeah, I'm free. My aunt took the kids for the night," I said, keeping up the front that I always had them. It was fairly easy to do since all I had to do was post every time I saw them. And since Cemone wasn't a social media guy, only posting professional photos sparingly, I controlled the narrative easily. "What did you have in mind?"

"Ooh, I know you're happy to have a break. It's an afterparty that the Los Angeles Bulldogs are having. Did you want to com?—"

"Yes!" I straightened as if someone had poked me in the back. I was drooling to go to this party that I knew would be very exclusive.

"Okay, girl!" Beverly laughed at how overzealous I was. "We'll put your name on the list, so when you come tonight, just tell them who you are. I will text you the address. Once you get inside, you can come sit at my table."

"Okay, thank you so much, girl!" I giggled.

After hanging up, I quickly texted my friend who did my nails and asked if she could squeeze me in. I'd just gotten a fresh wig installed a few days ago, so I was good in that department. After throwing on some leggings, a sports bra, and sandals, I headed out the door to start getting ready for the night.

LATER THAT NIGHT… THE PARTY…

Pulling my G-Wagon down Sunset Boulevard, I could hear the music bumping outside of the venue already. The line was wrapped around the block, with bitches dressed in barely anything and niggas wearing so much jewelry they could light up a cave.

The side parking lot was full of luxury vehicles, most likely belonging to the players in attendance. Cemone had too many cars for me to try to guess which one was his vehicle for the night.

Parking was scarce, so I was about to find something a few blocks down. Hiking it back to the club in this short ass dress and heels was exhausting, but the time I would have tonight would be all worth it.

As I strutted closer to the door, "Not My N*gga" by KenTheMan was playing, making me sway a bit since that was my song.

"Line starts around the corner," the bouncer told me. "No guaranteed entry tonight, and wait can be over two hours?—"

"No, I'm on the list." I cut him off, switching my Bottega clutch to the other arm.

Frowning, he asked, "Name?" while peering down at his clipboard.

"Solene Brownlee," I stated proudly, feeling the bitches in line already hating. Some probably recognized me and others wanted to know who the fuck I was to where I was on the list of such a prominent party.

"Solene Brownlee?" he repeated, brows kissing as he studied the list. Nervousness started to fill my belly as I watched him hunt.

"Yes. Brown and Lee but together. Maybe she separated it," I suggested but knew that couldn't be it because Beverly knew me too well to misspell my name or anything.

"I know but I don't see it."

"Beverly Sellers, Ashton Sellers' wife put me on the list!"

"I don't see it here, sweetheart. Only thing I can suggest is calling whoever put you on the list or get in line because it's only getting longer."

"Check again or let me check!"

"I already di—Oh, I see you here." He was looking at a back page that I assumed was people who'd been added later or something, but I didn't give a damn. I just needed to get into this party, especially after paying fifty dollars for parking. "You on the do not allow list."

"Excuse me?"

"Yeah. Solene Brownlee?" He showed me where my name was plain as day with a do not allow entry in all red caps right next to it.

"Damn, girl, seems like baby daddy don't wanna see you. Don't worry, I'll fuck him good for you and Yolani!" some bitch shouted. "We both know you don't get that dick no more!" She began twerking as her friends cheered her on, smacking her ass.

"Bitch, what!" I started toward her, but the other bouncer blocked me as she laughed, flicking me off.

Embarrassed and pissed, I walked off a few feet and dug through my purse for my phone. I called Beverly a few times but got no answer. I then sent her a text, asking what the hell was going on.

Beverly: All the players get to check and approve the VIP list so Cemone didn't want you on it. So sorry!

Me: When were you gonna tell me?

I waited a few minutes for her to reply but decided against it because bitches in the line kept hollering little comments to me. I knew that big ass bouncer wouldn't let me get at any of them, so it was best I just left. Plus, it was cold as fuck out here.

Since I was already down here and paid all that fucking money for parking, I decided to get something to eat at this cute rooftop spot. My outfit was too classy for a typical burger joint.

Once I got my food and second cocktail, I looked up the party on social media. I scrolled through the photos, spotting one of Cemone and that bitch Yolani. He brought her? I frowned, seeing several photos that paparazzi had taken of him helping her from the car like usual and holding her hand. They looked good together despite the striking height difference, and I honestly had never seen her grin this much in pap photos.

Tapping the comments, I began reading, seeing people claim that Cemone wouldn't allow any women in his section which was crazy because he lived for groupies. I guess I wasn't putting extras on it when I spoke my piece to Ananda. This bitch was doing voodoo on our baby daddy or something.

Appetite gone, I immediately asked for a doggy bag then left money to cover the bill before leaving. Tonight had been shameful and a waste of gas, new nails, and an outfit. I just prayed no one took video of my interaction with the bouncer, or I would have to find a way to spin the shit.

By the time I got home, I was exhausted and couldn't wait to shower and lie down. As soon as I stepped inside and closed the door to my place, I almost jumped out of my skin seeing Cemone standing against the counter. He hadn't been in my place in so long I wondered for a second if he was an apparition. The house was dark, and I suddenly had forgotten where the light switch was.

"Cemone?" I called out since he wasn't talking, just staring at me with a blank yet irritated expression somehow.

In one motion, he made it across the living room toward me, making me turn to try to open the door. He shut it before I could get out, flipping me around to face him. He looked menacing, and for the first time, I saw why people were so intimidated by him. He already wasn't small, horizontally or vertically, but he had a crazy look in those butterscotch green eyes.

"Post something else about Yolani and watch me send yo' stupid ass home to Our Father within the muthafuckin' hour." He talked so calmly that I had no choice but to believe him. I would never forget the scent of his cologne in this moment. The same one I once found sexy was now horrifying. "You understand?"

"Ye-yes. I won't post anything else. I promise. I'm sorry."

Without another word, he backed away from me and nodded for me to move from in front of the door. As soon as he stepped out, I slammed it and put the chain as well as every lock then the alarm on.

As I sat on the couch to calm my heavily beating heart and breathing, I knew then that I would have to bow out of this plan I'd had with Ananda.

Cemone wasn't a bad boy for show or the media; he was really crazy, and I had never been more scared than I was only moments ago. Sadly, Ananda would have to be my little puppet and from afar because that nigga meant business. I could see it. I could also see Yolani meant a lot for him to say such a thing to his son's mother.

Looked like Ross would certainly get his wish.