The Illicit Affairs

by Marí, Brittani

  Table of Contents

  The Illicit Affairs

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Illicit revealed

  About Brittani Marí

  Acknowledgments

  Brittani Marí

  The Illicit Affairs

  Book One

  The Illicit Series

  Copyright © 2018 Brittani Marí

  All Rights Reserved.

  This book 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 real events is purely coincidental.

  Cover Design and Formatting by Alyssa Garcia at Uplifting Designs

  Editing by Stephanie Atienza at Uplifting Designs

  Proofreading by Kim’s Fiction Proofreading & Editing Services

  Chapter One

  Wesley

  I HAD NEVER CONSIDERED the extremities of debt. At least not until my father walked into my club unannounced. I was replying to some work-related emails on my laptop when he walked behind the bar dressed to the nines. He wore a tailored suit with salt-and-pepper hair styled straight back into his signature ponytail. He casually removed his leather gloves and poured himself a glass of scotch. I was beginning to get aggravated when he finally spoke. I felt disrespected in my own establishment. The bartender, Robyn, looked at me for answers, but I couldn’t tell her anything­. Stinson Black was a tricky motherfucker.

  “I think you know why I’m here, son.”

  I sucked in a breath, praying I had just imagined it, but my father was still there. The smell of cigars and scotch coated his six-foot-two frame. His gray eyes were filled with purpose, and I feared what that purpose could be. I noticed the crow’s feet had developed in the corners of his eyes. The bastard had me by at least twenty years, but there was no mistaking the resemblance. I was the spitting image of him. I couldn’t deny being his son if I tried. The only difference was the style and color of our hair. I hated his fucking ponytail.

  I closed my laptop and placed it back into my briefcase. He took it as a signal to take the seat next to me.

  “The place is taking off, Wesley.”

  He took a sip of his drink, turning to face the rest of the club. It was barely nine thirty, but people were starting to arrive. I had known the club was a good investment, with its convenient location in the middle of downtown Houston. My father, however, disagreed. I guess he was finally starting to see the potential.

  “You know, Justin’s trial doesn’t look too promising.”

  He didn’t face me as he spoke. He kept his attention focused on the movement inside the club.

  “They want him to make a plea bargain. If he gives them some relevant information, they claim it will lower his sentence.”

  Hearing my brother’s name made me tense. I hadn’t spoken to him in a few days, but I wasn’t surprised by the recent news. He was in trouble. The crowd he hung around with had been careless, which resulted in life-altering consequences. It proved being rich didn’t make you untouchable. My father’s connections could only go so far. He had dug the hole too deep. It was pointless for us to pretend like it was an easy fix. My father and I both knew the reality of the situation. I feared for my brother, but everyone created their hell. He would just have to find his way out.

  “I spoke with him a few days ago. He told me he wasn’t a snitch. I doubt they’ll get any information out of him. I’m afraid he will stay silent. I don’t believe he’s considered the consequences of his actions.”

  The one good thing about my youngest brother was he was loyal. He would take the fall if he was involved, and he wouldn’t rat you out. The problem with this situation was that the person the police wanted wasn’t worth the risk. He was a manipulative person who carelessly used others. However, Justin was blinded by his loyalty and failed to see that.

  The conversation about my brother seemed to bother my father, but he recovered quickly. Stinson never allowed anyone to see him sweat. It was a weakness he couldn’t afford. Even with his youngest son sitting behind bars, he kept his composure like nothing was wrong. I could see through his ego, though. He was taking Justin’s situation to heart.

  “Someone has to take his place in the business, Wes. The only people who run my establishments are blood-related. I can’t risk bringing someone else inside. You know your brother, Calvin, is committed to our business in New York.”

  I knew exactly what he was insinuating. What surprised me was my father was trying to reason with me. He wasn’t demanding that I help run the company or throwing my dirty laundry on the table, threatening to destroy me. He was professional about the situation. I considered denying the position—testing him to see where we both stood­—but it would’ve been pointless. He might not have put the cards on the table immediately, but I knew he had leverage. I didn’t want to test him. I signaled Robyn for a scotch myself, turning to face the growing crowd.

  “What exactly do you need, Stinson?”

  I never directly called him anything but his first name. The thought of something like “dad” pouring from my lips just didn’t feel right. He was supportive and there for me when I needed him–depending on if he thought it was important–but certain things could never be forgiven.

  He tensed before responding. I sensed he felt uncomfortable discussing his private affairs in public. He leaned toward me, placing his hand on my shoulder. He lowered his voice to barely a whisper.

  “We need to protect our business, son. It’s what keeps us profitable, makes us who we are. If this scandal about your brother gets out, it will cause enough damage on its own. We need to be prepared.”

  It hit me like a ton of bricks. The fact that everything was started with my father’s money. It was all possible because of his business. The one thing I strived to avoid.

  I downed the rest of my drink, signaling Robyn for another. I knew the facts about my father’s businesses—the parts people pretended to ignore—and the harder I tried to block them out, the more they taunted me. I was a Black. The eldest son of Stinson Black, and I had a reputation to keep. It was something I would never be able to escape. I looked around the club for some kind of answer, but the knowledge it was only there because of my father’s help made me cringe.

  “I’ll be there on Monday. I have some business I need to take care of this weekend.”

  When the lights started to dim, I noticed his lips turn up in a smile. The club lit up in a haze of white and purple, and the first dancer stepped on the stage. Her platinum blonde hair cascaded straight down her back, ending on her backside. It was the costume that did it for me. She wore a black lace bodysuit that left nothing to the imagination. The deep V-neckline traveled down to right below her belly button, and the romper-like bottoms fitted her right above her ass cheeks. She grabbed the pole, scanning the club to check out her audience. When her eyes landed on me, she started dancing. I lifted my glass toward her, slowly turning back to my father. He was so entranced by the dancer, it took him a while to face me.

  “I see you went all out, Wes. It’s classy an
d sophisticated. The clientele here should bring in a nice profit.”

  I nodded my head in agreement.

  “That’s what we hoped for. Profits were beyond what we expected for opening night, but we had decent advertising. Your connections helped, as well.”

  When the words left my lips, the reality became clear. He gave me a look that said, “Exactly.” He didn’t press the issue, but he didn’t have to. I understood. I was in debt to him no matter how many times I had tried to convince myself otherwise. The extremities of it could haunt me forever.

  He picked up his gloves, stuffing them into his pocket. He downed the rest of his drink and stood from the bar, making it clear my club wasn’t his only stop. He was just getting started. I knew for a fact the others wouldn’t be as pleasant.

  “I’ll see you on Monday, son.”

  His words were smooth, but I still heard the threat underneath them. I had just given him more leverage than he already had. I had no way out. The conversation made him stand even taller. He got what he wanted from me—devotion. I had to admit, I respected him for it.

  “Yes, of course.”

  ***

  Once he was gone, I felt an enormous weight lift off my chest. I made my rounds, greeting the people I knew and introducing myself to the ones I didn’t. I needed to make myself known to everyone. I wanted my name to pour out of people’s mouths when my club was mentioned­. Coming into my own was my ultimate goal. I was Stinson Black’s son, but I also had my list of accomplishments, no matter how they started.

  I wasn’t surprised when celebrities began to walk inside. I made my way up the spiral stairs to the VIP section, taking in the full scene. It was amazing. The club had white leather couches, spotlights shone on everything, chrome poles were scattered around the space and lifted on single platforms. I left nothing out when I remodeled the club. The building was nothing like the way it was before. The crew I hired helped make my vision come to life. I was proud of my creation and confident the club would succeed. I was admiring the modern décor when I heard a woman’s voice.

  “Isn’t this amazing?”

  I turned and noticed a green-eyed beauty walking toward me. She wore a nude bandage dress that stopped right above her thighs and flaunted her body’s slight curves. She carefully looked over the chrome railing that surrounded the second floor, took a sip of the dark liquid in her glass, and motioned to the various dancers in the sections.

  “It amazes me how comfortable they are out there. They’re dancing like no one’s watching them. I wish I had that type of courage.”

  She ran her fingers through her long, dark hair, taking another sip of her drink.

  “There’s nothing to be nervous about, beautiful. When you’re dancing out there, it’s just you and the music. You learn to tune out everything else.”

  She smiled, looking over at me. ”Is that so, handsome?”

  The look she gave me was familiar. It was a silent invitation to continue and possibly end the night with her trembling underneath me. I had to admit, she was tempting. She reminded me of someone, but I just couldn’t put my finger on it.

  “What’s your name, beautiful?”

  She hesitated but finally replied, “It’s Mia.”

  When she extended her right hand, I noticed the wedding ring on her left. I was sure she caught my gaze, because she cautiously pulled her hand away, touching her neck in a nervous gesture. I never let a woman’s marital status stop me. Truthfully, whatever we had would end the next morning, but something kept bothering me. I just couldn’t put my finger on it. Mia? The name, combined with her beautifully sculpted face, seemed familiar, but I chose to let it go. It wasn’t important.

  “I’m assuming you’re here alone?”

  She turned back to face the crowd, moving to the beat of the music. I imagined she was pretending to be one of the women on the stage. She walked toward one of the couches close by, placing her drink on the table.

  “I actually came with my friend. We were on the dance floor and then she disappeared. I’m sure she’s around here somewhere.”

  I took the seat next to her, motioning a waitress for a round of drinks.

  “May I ask what you’re drinking?”

  She gave me a soft smile. “One of my favorites, actually—Crown and Coke.”.”

  I quickly informed the waitress of our choices. When she finished taking the order, I turned to face Mia on the couch.

  “I had a feeling you had good taste.”

  She shrugged. “Let’s just say the people I grew up around taught me well.”

  I didn’t know where the feeling surfaced from, but her comment caused me to pause for a brief second.

  “I can’t argue with that, beautiful. The knowledge of good taste doesn’t always come naturally. I’m assuming you—”

  She decided at that moment to place her hand on my thigh. She moved closer to where barely an inch of space was left between us and whispered into my ear.

  “Are you going to tell me your name, or should I take a wild guess?”

  I was a little disappointed when she finished her sentence. I thought she might be interested in where we could move things along, but she was proving to be a hard woman to read. I decided to play along and let the night run its course. If I didn’t sleep with her, the woman on the stage seemed interested. The rule of not sleeping with your employees wasn’t one I enforced. I just tried to keep it professional during business hours—which didn’t always end up being the case.

  “It’s Wesley.”

  She appeared deep in thought after I answered, but eventually came around. It was as if she drifted off to somewhere else for a few seconds.

  “I might be stranded here tonight, Wes. Maybe you could take me home?”

  The shorting of my name made me laugh, but I could see this woman was battling with something. What women were thinking or brave enough to say never surprised me. I assumed it was her husband. He either cheated on her or they were having some type of fight. I wasn’t one to pry, so I simply ignored the fact she was married. My night was starting to look up after all.

  “It’s still early, but let me make a quick phone call. I’m sure I can get someone to keep an eye on things if we were to leave.”

  She looked confused. “What do you mean? Do you work here?”

  I smiled. “I’m the owner, sweetheart. Just give me a few minutes to get some things situated. It shouldn’t take too long.”

  Chapter Two

  Mia

  THE WORLD I KNEW was mostly fabricated. It looked perfect from the outside, but when you looked at it thoroughly, it was far different from how it appeared. Experiences in my past led me to take on a role many women would turn away from. It was something I found necessary. I learned never to think about the truth. It only made you weak. Instead, I merely pretended my world was perfect. I tried to see my life the same way others did, but it never worked. I prayed if I pretended long enough, it would become my reality. Doing so only clarified none of it was real. However, it was a hidden truth I chose to keep buried.

  The suburban mansion my husband and I shared wasn’t a home. It was only there to keep up appearances. My husband was a high-powered man who needed a beautiful woman on his arm. It didn’t matter if we were having marital issues. He couldn’t look bad in front of anyone. We just kept up the façade to avoid questions and judgment.

  The only person who knew even a portion of my situation was my best friend, Avery. It would’ve been hard to live with such a big secret if I couldn’t talk to anyone­, which was what the night was about. Avery suggested we go out and have a good time. In her world, that was what people did to forget about their problems, even if it was only temporary.

  I had been sitting in a dark corner of the VIP section when I noticed him walking toward the railing. This casual outing was supposed to be about forgetting my problems, but I had suddenly found a better way to do it. It wasn’t part of the plan, but I couldn’t resist.

 
One minute, I was watching the club fill up with people. The next, I was walking toward a man who screamed run for your life. I knew the moment I saw him he wasn’t the type of man to settle down. He was the exact opposite. He wore a crisp suit, the first few buttons undone, and no tie. The way the suit was tailored to fit his body left nothing to the imagination. It was obvious he worked out regularly, his muscles well-defined. I envisioned running my hands through his short, messy hair. Yes, his six-foot frame screamed one-night stand loud and clear. It would’ve taken one hell of a woman to hook her claws into him permanently.

  He was exactly what I needed—no strings attached. Some women required a commitment, but I was already stuck in a marriage that was slowly unraveling. I knew the truth. Things some married women didn’t want to speak about. Things they didn’t want to admit. I was done believing the fairy tale that claimed every marriage was perfect and could bring you happiness. Maintaining the façade took a piece of me every day. I needed a distraction, someone to pleasure me for one night without thinking it was anything more. The moment I laid eyes on him, I knew I didn’t need to look any further. I could already imagine the type of fun we would have. We just needed a secluded place to get started. It was the first time I had ever been so forward with someone. The words had left my mouth before I could stop them. It seemed like my body had a mind of its own.

  I was in the middle of texting Avery when I noticed a waitress with a tray of drinks.

  “Sorry for the wait. I was told to inform you Mr. Black will be with you shortly.”

  She placed a few drinks on the table in front of me and politely walked away. I realized all the women who worked in the club were beautiful, their bodies perfect in every way—hourglass figures, big breasts, and perfectly styled hair. It was like all of them stepped straight out of a Maxim magazine. I was sure this man could have had any woman he wanted in a matter of seconds. Especially if he hand-picked the women working in the club.

  The jealous thought caught me off guard. I didn’t care about who this man could have. It wasn’t like we could’ve had some type of happily ever after. I erased the irrational thought before it was too late—before I had a chance to think about what would make me happy. I didn’t have the right. I learned about reality at a young age. I learned life was rarely fair. It was something that eventually made me stronger, wiser.