by Diana W.
DarK Deals
By Diana W.
Copyright 2020 © Diana W. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
The journey of writing this story was a wild one. When I started in November, life as we know it was still normal compared to whatever this is we’re living right now.
I want to first thank the one and only Chencia C. Higgins for listening to me ramble about this crazy idea for a story and made me so hype over it, that I started writing that same night. She understands the way my brain works and that’s love man because I’m certain I’m the one that brought Alice down the rabbit hole.
I want to thank my husband for kicking COVID-19’s ass and staying mentally strong even though for a week, a FaceTime call was the only form of communication we had while he was in the hospital. I would talk to him, cry, and then write because it was the only thing that gave my mind some relief.
I also want to thank the other writers in my “safe space” and accountability crew. Being around so much talent forces you to want to do better and be better…plus the jokes are Def Jam worthy, okay?!
And to my readers—new and old—thank you for rocking with me while I continue to find my voice and style. There aren’t enough words to express my gratitude.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Nothing about this story is normal and I never wanted it to be. I’m realizing more and more that I like writing unconventional romances. In this story, there’s romance, sure, but there’s also paranormal, suspense, and even thriller components to it. I want you as a reader to get rid of any preconceived notions you have of what romance should be because they won’t work with this book. Be open. Let your imagination roam free and have some fun dammit.
PROLOGUE
1989
Robert pulled a rag from his back pocket to catch the sweat from his forehead. One would assume he was perspiring from the Louisiana summer heat, but its origin was far deeper than humidity. He was in an unfamiliar area and among people whom he felt knew he didn’t belong there, or at least that’s how he felt being two, thirty-minute bus rides away from the small shotgun house he, along with his wife and two kids, called home.
Or maybe that was just his paranoia.
Today was the second time in his five-year marriage that he’d lied to his wife Selena. The first was when she tried making her grandmother’s gumbo recipe for the first time and asked him if it was any good. After watching her take two days to prepare the ingredients while also caring for their only child at the time, he didn’t have the heart to tell her it needed a triple dose of every seasoning known to Cajun man. Instead, he ate it like the supportive husband that he was and comforted her when her sister told her the honest, bland truth.
This lie felt different on his tongue.
He told her he was working a double shift at the refinery, which wasn’t unusual, except, today he’d been fired. It was over an on-the-clock argument that he saw coming and should’ve avoided at all costs, but somehow, he still lost his cool. Since the day Jimmy and his unsubtle disdain for black people started working there two months ago, Robert knew their paths would eventually cross. While the other racists that worked there would avoid being around you entirely if they could help it, Jimmy made it a priority to deliver dirty looks and derogatory comments. Overall, Robert dealt with it by ignoring him entirely as he did every other person who carried on like him. Being born and raised in a backwoods city, better yet, a state, that didn’t get the news about Jim Crow being abolished made his skin thicker than most. This method was effective until today when Jimmy decided to insert himself into a conversation Robert was having with a fellow coworker. He was proudly showing him a picture of his kids dressed up for church when Jimmy snatched the photo from his hands and proceeded to call them every stereotypical animal name and abomination. It was one thing to be nasty toward him, but his children were innocent and didn’t deserve that type of hatred. Throwing a punch was worth seeing the blood gushing from Jimmy’s nose, but not according to his boss who chose to take up for Jimmy’s actions despite other workers telling him exactly what went down. Thinking about the chain of events that transpired earlier made Robert pick up the pace toward the darkened alley.
He entered the corridor, and the air around him suddenly felt thick, making it difficult to breathe. There was a foul stench of garbage and the sounds of rats scurrying into unseen places. Robert’s nerves were getting the best of him as evident by his violently shaking hands when he approached the tattered blue door with the red circle above it. It wasn’t too late to turn back around and figure out another way. Selena was good at sewing and maybe, she could do that until he found more work.
While weighing his options that he should’ve done on the second bus ride, the blue door creaked open and a woman stepped into the entryway. Her eyes were shielded by a shadow cast from the moonlight, but her ruby lips sparkled and parted into a smile.
“I’ve been expecting you.”
The rasp in her voice straightened Robert’s posture. He shoved his hands into his front pockets to hide his unease from her statement. He hadn’t told a soul where he was headed.
“Come in.” She stepped back and motioned for him to enter. Robert took a hesitant look back down the alley. He could still make the nine o’clock bus back home and work on an explanation for Selena.
“You know you don’t have to agree to anything, right?” the woman spoke up. “But you won’t know unless you step inside.”
He thought about his family and the time it would take to find another job, something he couldn’t afford. His sixth-grade reading level wasn't exactly in high demand for anything except being a laborer. The possibility of walking away from this encounter untainted was worth exploring.
He nodded and carefully stepped into the entrance.
“Please have a seat.” The woman whom he could now fully see directed with her long nails that matched the color of her lips.
Robert’s eyes were transfixed on her face and the dark colors surrounding her eyes. She was so beautiful that it was almost unsettling. When the whispers about this place circulated, no one mentioned anyone who would look like this. Some said it would be faceless. Others mentioned hair of snakes. Folklore usually worked that way, each generation adding their spin on things, mostly exaggerated, to ward you off from any wrongdoing.
This woman looked classically beautiful like Sade but with an edge accentuated by endless gold bangles and necklaces. A long, thick braid hung over her shoulder and fell just shy of her hips. Her all-black dress, both tight and flattering on her slender frame, landed below her knees. High heels that made her look like a model straight from Jet magazine complemented her already tall stature.
She quietly made her way to one of the two leather chairs facing each other, took her seat, and crossed her legs. Robert finally snapped out of his daze and followed suit.
“Mr. Gaines.” She nodded her head in a way that told him to start talking.
Robert began fidgeting with his hands. He wasn't exactly sure where to begin or even how to initiate this type of conversation.
“Let
me help you out.” She clasped her hands together and placed them on her lap. “What do you need for yourself?”
Robert’s tongue felt heavy. What he needed wasn’t necessarily just for him. It was something that could release his entire family from a life of struggle.
“I need...” He licked his lips and took a deep sigh. “I need money to no longer be an issue.”
At the sound of that request, she began to toy with her braid. “Hmm. And for how long?” she replied so calmly that it made Robert wonder how often she received similar requests.
He adjusted his posture at the question he wasn’t prepared to answer. A timeline never crossed his mind.
“Uh for...forever, I guess.” That made sense to him. Every time he passed the Williams Plantation on his way to work, it was a reminder of the generational wealth that family and families like it would continue to have despite the heinous way they came into it. He wanted the same for his own bloodline. “I don’t want the kids of my kids to ever have to worry about it.”
“Ahh, I see.” She nodded slowly. “What you’re asking for, Mr. Gaines, is quite…substantial.”
“I know.” Robert leaned forward, preparing to hear the non-negotiable terms of the agreement. He wasn’t naïve to think his death wouldn’t be an option. It was why he was hesitant to come here in the first place.
“How far along is your wife?” She stared at her nails as if a part of their conversation may have somehow chipped them.
“Excuse me?” Robert questioned as a chill ran down his spine.
“Your wife.” Her eyes drifted from her nails up to him. “How far along is she?”
“She…she’s almost,” he swallowed, “six months. Give or take.”
“That would be perfect timing.” She smiled and sat up.
“Perfect timing? For what?” Robert was now completely unnerved.
“Well, I’d want the child, of course,” she smiled as if it made all the sense in the world.
“Like, after she has it?” Robert nervously ran his hand over his head, thinking about the pain it would cause Selena. The pain and guilt it would cause him.
“No.” She shooed him off indignantly. “I’d need its soul right now.”
Robert shook his head. “I...no...I can’t do that.”
“Mr. Gaines,” the woman smoothed her hands down her thighs, “you come asking for infinite wealth, and you assumed the price was would be what? A chicken’s head? Some journey into the desert for forty days and forty nights?”
“No,” he stuttered. “I just thought it would be…” He placed his hand on his chest. “I thought it would be my life instead.”
Her scoff was accompanied by a smile to soften the blow as she stood up. She stared down at him and, like a shark that smelled blood, began to circle his chair.
“And if I take your life, then what? Your family continues on with its legacy of wealth, and all I’m left with is …you? Does that seem logical, given how much you’d acquire?”
“But it’s just a baby. An innocent party,” he attempted to reason, thinking about the little yellow dress Selena had sewn a couple of nights ago for their first daughter.
“That you haven’t met yet.” She stopped behind him and stretched her arms along the back of his chair, leaning forward until her lips were aligned with his ear. “There are no gains without sacrifice,” she hummed. “You’ll have no worries about your next meal. No fears of going poor. And you’re still,” her hands traveled down his broad chest and gently gripped his crotch, “more than equipped to have as many more children as you want.”
Robert closed his eyes and focused on her words rather than her touch and her skin that smelled of magnolias. He could agree right now and deal with the loss of his child, knowing it was for a greater purpose, but he had heard enough stories to know that this wouldn’t be the only thing asked of him.
“And what are the rest of the terms of this agreement?” Robert sighed.
The woman glided her hands back over him and stood straight up. “Ahh, yes, let’s discuss those.”
Thirty-Three Years Later
CHAPTER 1
“If you take a look at the projections for the fourth quarter…” Richard hit the clicker in his hand for what had to be the fiftieth time. Cornell wasn’t sure. He’d lost count somewhere at the beginning of the presentation. Richard’s monotonous voice, combined with the four glasses of whiskey Cornell had last night, was doing a number on his attention span.
“More coffee, sir?” Cornell’s assistant Shelly whispered from his right. She must’ve noticed his duress from her meeting chair in the corner of the boardroom.
He nodded with his focus still on Richard and his unusually pale skin and curly black hair. A quick scan of the room brought him eye-locked with his father who looked at him disapprovingly. Nothing new as far as Cornell was concerned. That expression was permanently etched on his face when it came to Cornell and his brothers. You would think a sixty-three-year-old man that time had been generous to, physically and financially, would be a lot less disgruntled, but Robert Gaines was no regular man.
“I believe the acquisition of Rowe Industries can bring The Gaines Corporation to the next level of homecare.” Richard placed the clicker onto the podium. “Finally elevate us to compete with Proctor and Gamble.”
“Proctor and Gamble?” Cornell’s father eagerly sat forward. “That would be... historical.” Cornell could see the foam forming in his father’s mouth like a fertile groupie during NBA All-Star weekend. Of all the life events he’d witnessed, money coming in brought his father a special kind of joy.
“And is Rowe Industries even aware that we’re attempting to acquire them?” Cornell spoke up, seeing past the carrot Richard always dangled in front of his father. He may have been hungover and exhausted, but he could still sniff out bullshit when it came across him.
Richard used his index finger to push his thick blue glasses up to their proper position, a direct indication of his discomfort, no matter how hard he masked it with a calm demeanor. “We have a meeting scheduled with them in the next few weeks. The amount we’re willing to offer is irrefutable.”
“And yet others have.” Cornell cocked a brow and took a sip from the black coffee Shelly had snuck in front of him. “Everyone isn’t rushing to hand over their company for a lump sum. Especially not from us.”
That reference made a few of the execs in the room shift in their chairs because they knew exactly what he was implying. The Gaines Corporation was the only black-owned company at the top. Its climb to success made it a Cinderella story in the black community, but its substantial growth in the past few years put them on the radar of their white counterparts in the same arena. They were becoming competitors with every new product they created or acquired, which also made them a threat. And being a threat made them targets. Amongst the crowd cheering them on were also those praying for their demise and refused to do business with them in any capacity.
“We’ll handle the situation like we always do.”
His father spoke up, forcing Cornell to grind his teeth. To everyone else, those words from their leader translated to doing what it took to get the deal done financially, but only a few knew about the other side of The Gaines Corporation. Getting their hands dirty was often required to meet their profit projections and make their targeted acquisitions a reality.
Rather than respond, Cornell leaned back into his chair while everybody else offered their thoughts and excitement about the direction the company was headed. He released a relieved and silent breath when his father finally called the meeting to an end. He was eager to head home and sleep away the remaining traces of the previous night. He gathered his black leather portfolio and his half-empty coffee cup and proceeded to exit.
“Son, a word with you.”
Cornell closed his eyes in agitation, but he adjusted his expression to something more neutral, turned around, and took the adjacent seat to his dad’s right. When the last perso
n left, his father cleared his throat with his eyes glued to the printed presentation Richard had dispersed to everyone during the meeting.
“Where are your brothers?”
“Mo is still on the scouting trip in Virginia, and I haven’t spoken to Clark in a few days,” Cornell replied firmly.
“Do you think it’s appropriate for them to miss meetings like this?” He turned the page on the document. Cornell could tell he’d recently gotten a haircut, apparent by the clean edges of his greying hair. He was happy that he stopped dyeing it black. He didn’t need it. Thanks to genes and grace, his father barely had wrinkles on his face. The greys made him look distinguished, and women of all ages salivated over it.
“Meetings like what?” Cornell internally sighed at his father for turning something so minor into a bomb threat. “When did quarterly meetings become so gravely important? Everything they need to know they can get from those papers you’re reading or from me.” Cornell narrowed his eyes at his father, borderline amused at this line of questioning. He could have easily called Mo and Clark to check them himself, yet that responsibility always fell on him. As the oldest, he’d gotten used to relaying messages to his younger siblings.
“Do you all think this is a fucking joke?” His father sneered, finally giving him his full attention.
Cornell took a mental pause and chose his next words carefully. He wasn’t in the mood to get into a shouting match. That would require energy he didn’t have. “No, sir, we don’t.” His response was dry but still respectful.
“You come here looking half-asleep, smelling like a bar, and your brothers can’t even show their faces in a meeting they’re required to attend as figureheads of this company. I don’t give a shit how minor it is. This is The Gaines Corporation.” He drove his freshly manicured finger into the table. “The name that all three of you bear is on this building, and I will not allow my legacy to be devalued by laziness and insubordination.”