Page 71 of The Don’s Virgin Obsession

I laughed once. “Why you ask me that?”

“Because I know you.”

“I’m grown.”

“That wasn’t the question.”

“I’m not wasting money on women.”

He looked at me over the rim of his cup. “You lying. I see you paying for that Milan girl’s rent on our business account.”

“I pay for peace sometimes.”

“Peace don’t charge.”

I sat back, quiet after that.

He wasn’t wrong.

“Women either bring peace or distraction,” he said. “Ain’t too many in-between.”

“This was the last month,” I told him honestly.

I thought about the women in my life.

Milan was destruction.

Nia was easy.

Alana wanted more than I felt like giving.

Sade came to mind before I could stop it, and that irritated me because she didn’t belong in the same thought as the rest of them.

I took a drink of my water.

My father kept talking because that was what he did when he felt like he had a point.

“Business and women cause most downfalls for men who think they are too smart to fall.”

“I’m not falling.”

“Keep making sure of that.”

That was how he raised me.

Don’t fall.

Don’t fold.

Don’t let people see too much.

Handle your business first, and whatever hurts can wait until after.

My father had his own problems when I was younger. I knew that now. I didn’t know the names for it back then. Depression. Addiction. Pressure. Whatever people called it. In our house, it was just him having a bad week.

He didn’t go to rehab.

Didn’t do therapy.