Men Are Prada Shoes

CHAPTER 16

ALINA

While getting ready for my dinner with Vincent, the television in the background continued to broadcast the breaking news surrounding Alex Wember’s arrest. Every channel seemed to be covering the same story—the once-respected businessman now being linked to a major drug scandal.

I stood in front of the vanity mirror, tilting my chin upward as I carefully applied a fresh coat of red Fenty lipstick. The bold color glided smoothly across my lips, completing the look I had spent the last hour perfecting.

A gentle knock sounded against my bedroom door.

Before I could respond, the door swung open and David stepped inside, an iPad tucked beneath his arm.

“I got a picture,” he announced.

I met his gaze through the mirror’s reflection, arching a brow. “What picture?”

“The picture of the bag,” he replied as he walked closer and handed me the device. “His mother carried a Voss bag when she visited him at the detention center earlier today.”

My attention shifted to the image displayed on the screen.

The corners of my lips slowly curled into a smile.

There it was.

The Voss handbag I had personally given Alex as a gift for his mother hung elegantly from Grace’s arm. Paired with her tailored Versace suit, the luxury bag stood out clearly enough for anyone paying attention to notice it.

How ironic.

Her son was sitting in a detention center, accused of drug-related crimes, while she arrived dressed in designer labels worth more than most people earned in months.

I handed the iPad back to David and turned my focus to my hair, running my fingers through the soft curls to loosen them slightly.

“Push it.”

David glanced at me. “Push what exactly?”

“The story.” I picked up my hairbrush, meeting his eyes through the mirror once again. “I want the media to run with it.”

A thoughtful silence settled between us before I continued.

“The headline should read…” I paused, shifting my gaze toward David from the corner of my eye. “What’s her name again?”

“Grace Inkor,” he answered promptly before adding, “She’s actually Miss Grace Inkor, not Mrs. She never married after getting pregnant with Wember.”

I hummed softly in acknowledgment. “The headline should read: Miss Grace Inkor spotted in a Versace suit, Gucci heels, and carrying the rare limited-edition Italian-crafted Voss handbag.”

I glanced at my reflection once more, smoothing down an invisible crease on my dress before reaching for the perfume bottle resting on the dresser.

“Make sure the Voss bag is mentioned after the designer pieces,” I added. “The contrast will hit harder that way.”

David nodded as he took the iPad back from me. “Got it.”

I had barely wrapped my fingers around the perfume when David suddenly caught my wrist.

I blinked, looking up at him in confusion. “What?”

“I like it when you wear Victoria’s Secret Red Cherry,” he muttered.

Before I could respond, he reached for the bottle he was referring to and held it out to me.

A laugh escaped my lips. “I’m not going on a date with you, David.” I accepted the perfume from his hand, amusement dancing in my eyes. “Why should I wear a scent you like to another man’s dinner date?”

He shrugged, trying to appear indifferent.“Doesn’t matter.”

The slight tightness in his jaw told a different story.

Rolling my eyes, I sprayed the perfume onto my wrists and the side of my neck before rubbing them together.

“Happy?” I teased.

David ignored the question.

“Is he picking you up?” he asked instead.

I reached for my purse and slung the chain strap over my shoulder.

“He is,” I answered. “But he’s not coming inside.”

David’s brows furrowed. “Why not?”

“I don’t want to risk him seeing you.”

“You never had a problem with other men seeing me before,” he pointed out. “What’s different about him?”

“Nothing,” I drawled, checking the contents of my purse one final time.

His stare remained fixed on me.

I sighed.

“He’s my biggest client, David,” I explained. “I’m just being careful with him.”

The explanation did little to ease the tension radiating from him.

Stepping closer, I rose onto the tips of my toes and pressed a brief kiss against his cheek.

His body immediately stiffened beneath the innocent gesture.

“You need to loosen up, you’ve been acting strange lately.”

“I have not.”

I raised a skeptical brow. “You suddenly become rigid whenever we talk about Vincent,” I pointed out.

The door to my bedroom swung open without warning.

Serena walked in with her attention fixed on the phone in her hand, her fingers moving rapidly across the screen. She looked distracted, barely aware of her surroundings.

That changed the moment she lifted her head.

Her gaze landed on David and me standing far too close to each other.

Her eyes narrowed instantly. "What's going on here?"

I chuckled, stepping away from David. "Kissing him goodbye," I answered as I walked past him toward the dresser. "Do you want one too?"

Serena's nose wrinkled in disgust. "I'll pass."

She tucked her phone away before turning serious.

"I actually came to let you know that your father reached out again."

The amusement vanished from my face.

I scoffed.

"Send him more money and tell him to stop bothering me."

Whenever he called, it was always because he wanted something. Money solved most of his problems or at least bought me temporary silence.

Serena hesitated, her gaze shifting toward David. "You haven't told her yet?"

David muttered a curse under his breath and dragged a hand through his hair. "I was waiting for the right moment."

A cold feeling settled in my stomach and I slowly turned to look at him.

"What exactly are you waiting to tell me?" My voice tightened. "I don't pay you an outrageous amount of money for you to decide when I'm worthy of hearing information that concerns me."

David pressed his lips into a thin line, unable to meet my eyes. "Your father isn't asking for money this time," he admitted.

I folded my arms across my chest. "What does he want?" Greedy bastard. "A new house? Another car? A luxury vacation package?"

David shifted uncomfortably. "No."

The knot in my stomach tightened. "Then what?"

The room fell into an uncomfortable silence.

Even Serena looked uneasy.

Finally, David forced the words out. "He wants Joyce to move in with you."

Everything inside me came to a screeching halt.

For a second, I genuinely thought I had misheard him.

"What?"

David swallowed. "Your father wants Joyce to come live here."

I stared at David in disbelief. “You must be joking.”

David cleared his throat, “He seems to think that if she stays with you, she’ll be able to find a good job…” He hesitated before adding, “And a good man.”

A bitter laugh escaped me. “That will be impossible.”

If Joyce ever found out that the life I had built was founded on lies and half-truths, she wouldn’t hesitate to use it against me. I knew exactly the kind of person she was.

She would blackmail me.

And unlike my father, Joyce wouldn’t settle for occasional payments.

David stepped closer, his expression softening.

“I’m still trying to find a way to make sure that doesn’t happen,” he assured me. “So don’t let it bothe_”

“Give him more money,” I interrupted.

Both David and Serena stared at me.

“Give him an amount he can’t refuse,” I continued, my voice hardening. “And make him understand that he should never bring up the topic of Joyce coming anywhere near me again.”

“We can’t afford to keep doing that,” Serena pointed out, crossing her arms over her chest. “The company’s account is already bleeding.”

I swung my gaze toward her. “We won’t have a company left to run if Joyce shows up here and ruins everything,” I hissed. “Send him the goddamn money.”

David released a long, frustrated sigh. “Let’s not make a hasty decision that’ll affect the compa_”

“Push that narrative,” I interrupted again.

His brows furrowed.

“The story about Miss Inkor,” I clarified. “Push it harder.”

I picked up my purse from the dresser, tightening my grip on the chain strap.

“The publicity alone should generate the sales and recognition we’ve been aiming for,” I said. “And as for investments…” A slow smile tugged at my lips. “I’ll be bringing Vincent in soon, so you don’t have to worry about the finances.”

David’s expression darkened almost instantly.

Serena, on the other hand, looked intrigued.

“You’re planning on pitching the company to Vincent?” she asked.

“I’m planning on doing whatever it takes to keep this business afloat,” I corrected.

The shrill chime of my phone interrupted the conversation.

With slightly trembling fingers, I flipped the device over and unlocked the screen.

Vincent: I’m downstairs.

I swallowed against the unexpected dryness in my throat.

“He’s downstairs,” I rasped.

Serena’s eyes widened slightly. “Already?”

I nodded absentmindedly, slipping my phone into my purse. “I need to get going.”