Page 36 of The Don’s Virgin Obsession

The whole chat texted back okay. It was just my right-hand man, Cornelious King aka CK, my sister Vanessa, and my twin homeboys Khalil and Kadeem Hardaway.

After the workers left, security hit the buildings, and I hopped in the Lambo truck and headed to L.A.

I got to the spot in twenty minutes, high as fuck, nerves somewhat calm for the moment. I sprayed on some Creed, popped a piece of gum, and used hand sanitizer. I walked in, and my crew was already at the bar, my sis in the middle of it all like she was one of the guys.

I walked up, and everybody started showing me love.

“The man of the hour,” CK said, dapping me up. “I saw your buildings in the L.A. Times today. You changed that whole block, man.”

I nodded. “It needed to be done.” I dapped the rest of my boys.

“Needed to be done? You’re a hood hero,” Vanessa boasted.

I chuckled, nonchalantly. “Not hardly.”

“Ugh, I hate when you act like you not that nigga. So, what’s up? Why we congregating?” Vanessa asked as I hugged her.

“Pour me three shots of Don, and I’ll tell you everything.”

Vanessa wasted no time pouring. I took all three, chased it, and let the burn settle in my chest.

“A’ight, so… I finally found my interior designer.”

Vanessa smirked but didn’t say anything.

“Word? Which company?” Khalil asked.

“Bennett Interiors.”

My boys were in real estate too, so they knew companies.

“Heard of her. She does good work. How much?” he asked.

I cleared my throat. “Close to two mil.”

Khalil laughed. “Damn. Her virginity come with that?”

I chuckled. “Oh, you know about that?”

“All of L.A. know about that,” CK said.

“I took her on a date a few years back. She ain’t coming up off that,” Kadeem added.

I already knew. Didn’t speak on it. I knew all the niggas she so-called dated.

“Man, my bro ain’t thinking ’bout her like that,” CK said. “But check them numbers. Sounds overpriced.”

I chuckled. “Don’t stress me out, my nigga. I got this.”

My boys didn’t know I had a thing for Sade, only Vanessa. That wasn’t their business.

$$$$$

I left the bar a little after seven in the evening. The liquor did what it was supposed to do, but my head wasn’t all the way there. I drove straight to my father’s house.

The lights were on in the living room when I walked in. I could hear my mother upstairs on the phone, laughing. He was sitting in his chair, blanket over his legs, TV playing Cops on low. He looked up when I stepped in.

“You just getting off?” he asked, voice raspy.