Nathan Blakes in
1084 Words
I wasn’t surprised when Nathan Blakes called me over to his penthouse the next day to discuss with the lawyer he gave me.
Nathan’s office was a world away from the seedy club where we first met. Everything about it screamed wealth and power, from the gleaming mahogany desk to the panoramic view of the city skyline.
“You’re late,” he said, not even looking up from the papers on his desk as I stepped inside.
“I didn’t know punctuality was part of the deal,” I shot back.
“Black women…you guys are always rude?”
“Why bring race into this?” I demanded, slightly annoyed.
He finally glanced up, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Everything is part of the deal, Veronica. Including your attitude.”
I bit my tongue, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.
“I’ve arranged for you to meet someone,” he continued, leaning back in his chair. “Meira Woods. The best lawyer money can buy. She’ll take care of everything.”
“Why do I feel like there’s a catch?” I asked, crossing my arms.
Nathan chuckled. “The catch is you owe me, and I always collect. But for now, focus on staying alive.”
“What do you mean I should focus on staying alive? Who could possibly want me dead?”
Nathan’s smirk vanished. “Damon knows about our little arrangement. He’s not happy.”
My heart sank. “How… how does he know?”
Nathan didn’t answer, his silence more damning than any words.
“Look,” he said after a moment, his tone cold and businesslike. “Meira is expecting you at noon. Don’t be late.”
—
Meira Woods was nothing like I expected.
I’d pictured someone older, maybe even matronly, but the woman who greeted me was sharp, sleek, and undeniably intimidating. Her tailored suit hugged her curves, and her red lipstick was the only splash of color in her otherwise monochrome appearance.
“So, you’re the girl causing all this trouble,” she said, as she looked me up and down.
I extended my hands “Nice to meet you too.”
She smirked. “Nathan told me you had a mouth on you. I hope you can back it up, because this is going to get messy.”
Meira didn’t waste time with pleasantries. She dove straight into the details, laying out a plan that was equal parts genius and terrifying. But as she spoke, I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was sizing me up, testing me.
“I don’t care about your sob story,” she said bluntly. “If you want my help, you follow my rules. No exceptions.”
I nodded, swallowing my pride. “Understood.”
“Good. Then let’s get to work.”
The first attack came that evening just as they predicted.
I was walking home, my mind still spinning from everything Meira had thrown at me, when I noticed a shadow following me.
At first, I thought I was imagining it. The streets were crowded, and people were always in a hurry. But then the shadow broke off from the crowd, moving closer.
My heart raced as I quickened my pace, clutching my bag tightly. I didn’t want to look back, but instinct won out.
The man behind me was tall, his face hidden under a baseball cap. And oh boy, he was fast, never seen someone as fast as him my entire life.
The Nigerian in me won and I began screaming and running at the same time “No, no, I envisioned my death in wealth, not bring chased like this” wailing.
My heels clicked against the pavement, each step echoing like a countdown.
I didn’t get far.
A hand grabbed my arm, yanking me into a dark alley. I screamed, but the sound was muffled as the man clamped a hand over my mouth.
“You should’ve stayed quiet,” he hissed, his grip tightening.
“Apart from fraud? Don't Nigerians know how to think?” His hands still on my lips.
“Please…please…I don't want to die” I begged for my life, imagining my mother having a heart attack if she found out I was struggling for my life.
And then I heard it. The sharp crack of a gunshot.
I closed my eyes, opening it to see I was still alive.
The man’s grip loosened, his body slumping against mine before collapsing to the ground. Blood pooled around him, the metallic scent filling the air.
I looked up, trembling, and saw Nathan standing at the end of the alley, a gun in his hand.
“Are you always this reckless?” he asked, striding toward me.
I couldn’t speak as I stared at the lifeless body at my feet.
“Come on,” Nathan said, grabbing my arm. “We need to move before someone calls the cops.”
—
Back at his penthouse.
I finally found my voice.
“You killed him,” I whispered, still shaking.
Nathan poured himself a drink, his movements calm and unbothered. “Would you rather I let him kill you?”
I didn’t answer.
“This is the world you’ve stepped into, Veronica,” he said, his tone cold. “Damon doesn’t play games, and neither do I. If you’re going to survive, you need to toughen up.”
“Not some sort of voodoo you use in your country” he added. I looked at him…but didn't say a word. How was I going to know I was going to get attacked the very next day?
“Not everyone uses voodoo in Nigeria” I finally said, removing my jackets.
His eyes lingered on me for a while, he had seen me almost naked at the club the other. I walked towards him, letting down my braids…then reaching for his hands. He watched me with his dangerous eyes, trying to see what I was going to do.
”I don't want to owe you my life….” I said.
“Let me pay you back?” I added, dropping fully naked in front of him.
He chuckled, his eyes never leaving mine.
“Nah, you can't satisfy me….” He said, helping put a jacket over me.
“Why?” I challenged, pushing him with the tip of my fingers.
“Seen your s*x tapes, your previous man released it already” He dropped the bombshell.
- Writer
