S1

- Chapter Five -
100 nights, 100 Crimes

I walk down the stairs of my penthouse going to the kitchen. Sitting at the counter is Paloma and my assistant. Geraldo is at the stove as I walk in holding my heels in one hand and my clutch in the other. "I hope you're cooking something that makes hangovers go away," I say groggily making them all look at me. I woke up throwing up my brains not remembering a thing after my dinner and I went to that party.

I slept all day until it was time to get ready for today's fashion shows. I haven't slept past 11a.m. in a good while. I never get drunk. I haven't drank that much since college. I don't know what made me do it in the first place. I just remember sitting at the bar throwing them back like it was water. I guess I was trying to drink my problems away.

"Are those nipples I see?" Geraldo asks as I walk to the stainless steel refrigerator opening it. Geraldo is gay, but he was staring like he was straight.

"Yeahh, I'm a little unsure about this outfit. I feel like I need pasties or something," I say rubbing my boobs as my nipples harden from the cold of the open refrigerator.

"No, let the tata's out. It's fashion week. The time you can have your nipples out and no one will judge because it's fashion," Paloma says like I knew she would seeing as she picked it out. Meanwhile she's sitting there in a black Suit Jacket Dress. It had deep plunge with no shirt underneath showing cleavage and it was short showing off her muscular legs. She was no stranger to showing her body.

Me on the other hand...after years of modeling risqué outfits and bikinis the size of floss, once I started my business I wanted to change my image. I hung up the thong bikinis only bringing them out for the beach or my own shoots for my swimsuit brand. I wanted to be looked at as a businesswoman and not the girl you probably saw ass first and face later. Over the years I was able to erase those notions becoming a contender for a fashion icon and influencer. No one could top Rihanna in my eyes, but I had a decent wardrobe myself.

If Rihanna can have her nipples out, why can't I? I think to myself trying to talk myself out of at least changing my top.

"Fashion? More like flashin'," Geraldo says tilting his head to the side still looking. "I just wanna suck 'em. Is that straight?" He asks. He takes his hand touching the bottom of my boob making it bounce. "Yeah, I would totally suck on those supple, juicy things."

He licks his lips making me say, "Okay, G. Next I'm going to think you're faking being gay just to do and see things you otherwise wouldn't be able to. You've seen me naked before. Why are my boobs such a fascination now?" I say taking out a water bottle finally closing the fridge. I grab my pills that are on my plate of food throwing them back into my mouth as I follow it with water. For the most part, my health has been on the up and up. Sometimes I have tired days, but lately it's been a breeze. Not even the thought of looming death could stop my grind.

You could live with AIDS for decades, but they say it'll eventually kill you. I believe it. I was living on a clock. I just at least wanted to accomplish all my goals, get married, have children, and leave behind a legacy worth something.

"I'm just trying to figure out when you started drinking so much. You never get drunk, so when Cordelia facetimed me showing you past our drunk in bed I had to laugh. Is there something I should be concerned about?" Paloma asks looking at me with worry. She joked a lot, but she always looked out for me at the end of the day.

"Cordelia facetimed you?" I clearly didn't remember anything from last night. "No, I was just drinking out of boredom and loneliness. One minute you were at the party, the next you were gone. I should've left, but I stayed and kept drinking. Where did you go?"

"I left with Gary to get my brains fucked out. That is some good dick if you've ever seen it," she says biting the tip of her nail shaking her head. My assistant clears her throat out of awkwardness, but of course Paloma doesn't care. She just glances at her. "I figured you would be okay with Draco, Rhea, and his fine ass brothers."

"I mean, he's my client, but I don't know him that well. At least he was a good person and brought me home. Hopefully I wasn't acting too crazy."

"Well, you'll see him today, so you'll find out."

"Speaking of that, we need to get going," I say looking at the clock on the stove.

"Oh hell no! You always have me fixing you breakfast then you wanna jet out of here like a White husband on a sitcom. You're gonna sit down and eat this food," Geraldo gripes pushing the plate towards me.

"Why do you care if I eat it? You're going to get paid regardless."

"True, but you need to eat. I done slaved over this hot ass stove!" He grumbles like somebodies mother. I look at the plate of eggs, bacon, and crescents. It ain't all that, nigga. I wouldn't say it out loud though. I sit down eating then once I'm done we finally leave for the first fashion show of the day, which is Tom Ford.

It was a short ride from my place to the location. As the car service pulls up to the curb then stops, we all get out. I hold my jacket over my arm with my clutch in my left hand as I'm on the phone with Draco who's saying he's already inside waiting in the front area. We hang up as I walk with Paloma and my assistant as cameras flash. I just keep walking casually, but Paloma's extra ass kept stopping and posing. Every other step was a different pose. A hand on her hip, the turn around and look over your shoulder, blowing a kiss, a smile and wave. I was too done with her, continuing to walk inside the building.

I look around for Draco spotting him talking to someone. That's when I realize it's his brother from last night, Apollo. Hopefully he's in a better mood today then when I met him yesterday. I go up to them tapping Draco on the shoulder. The conversation between them immediately stops as Draco looks at me. "Uh, I think you forgot your bra at home. You still drunk?" Is the first thing to come out of his mouth making me fight a chuckle.

"No, it's fashion. Speaking of drunk, thank you for taking me home last night. I'm sorry, I never drink that much. I don't know what happened last night."

"It's coo. Real shit though...You don't gotta jacket to put on?" Draco asks with seriousness in his voice with his head tilted to the side.

"I do," I say glancing at it hanging it off my arm.

"Well, you gon' have to put it on," he says like a protective big brother grabbing it from me. "I know it's fashion and a jacket can make or break an outfit, but I got too much respect for you to be having a conversation with bare breasts in my face. Them things distracting. Come on," he says holding the jacket up, so I can put it on. I smack my lips like an annoyed little sister sticking my arms through the holes of the jacket that matches the skirt I have on.

I could've swore I was older than him..

"I wasn't gonna say nothin'," Apollo adds in. "Not even about the respect thing. Just I gotta wife. She likes nipples, but she wouldn't be cool enough with them staring me right in the face." Just from that statement I knew Rhea was his wife. Why do I care so much? I don't know. I just think it's weird that she lying to me of all people. I knew her back when I just had a dream to be something big back in 2011. I've been hiring her to style me ever since.

Now that I think about it, I've never been to Rhea's house. She's been to mine though. I've never heard of Rhea dating or met any of her boyfriends. She met my ex, Tru. She never even talked about relationship issues like girls do around me. I've never even met her son in person, just seen pictures. I just always took it as she's shy and she rather not. She didn't talk much to begin with. Someone who doesn't divulge personal business. I guess Rhea really isn't my friend...What defines a friend?

"I don't wanna hear another female complain about niggas staring at their titties instead of them looking them in their eyes," Apollo says making me come back to reality. "This new 'they're just nipples' trend ain't doin' nothing for nobody."

I just ignore what he's saying asking, "Wait, where's Saanvi? Weren't you supposed to be bringing her with you?"

"Changed my mind," Draco responds. "I'm not tryna build my existence off of being her boyfriend. I'm no clout chaser. Yeah, she a model or whatever and that can help me, but I rather do it on my own. We're just girlfriend and boyfriend. It could end tomorrow then I'll be known as her boyfriend forever. I'm not tryna be on that Karrauche shit after she left Chris Brown."

"You could've just used Safaree and Nicki Minaj as an example, stupid. You ain't a female," Apollo says looking at Draco like he's stupid.

Draco points his finger. "Truee. That sounds better." I just chuckle shaking my head.

"I'm surprised you're here," I say to Apollo. I was trying to be friendly.

"I come every year," he says looking around the busy room then down at me. He's super tall too. Guess height runs in the family even though Draco is tall, he's not that tall. Ares and Apollo are giants. Draco was just a good six foot, maybe give or take an inch.

"Really? You just like fashion or something?" I question in amazement.

"Naw, its more so business," he says vaguely. "I like staying fresh, but I don't be wearing the shit they got on these runways for men. This just be crazy. Niggas wearing dresses and all kinda bullshit." He stops talking then I see him scan his eyes across the room. "Actually, I see someone I need to talk to about business. I'll be back," he says walking off leaving me and Draco alone.

"He's in a better mood today," I say pointing my thumb back towards Apollo who's now talking to some old, White man.

"That's him. Gemini forreal. He switches moods and personalities like a light switch. Sometimes I don't even wanna say it's just him being a Gemini. I think the nigga is bipolar," he says shaking his head as I laugh. "Speaking of him, he wants to be co-founder and co-CEO of my label. He said he'll give me half of the money I paid for it. Can we make that happen?"

"Whatever you want," I say with a smile. "Oh and remind me to get the paperwork for your slogan trademark from my assistant before the night is over."

He smiles putting a hand to a fist. "They really let me trademark that shit?"

"Yeah," I say in disbelief. "I guess as long as no one has trademarked it yet, you can do it. Why that slogan though?" I ask.

"Relax or Get Murked. I know that shit sound crazy violent and suggestive, but I've always just said relax. Like I'm super chilled and laid back, especially compared to my brothers or people I used to run around with. They were just always wildin'. I was always telling them to relax to the point people would say, 'We know..Relax.' That was like my saying. Then it turned into Relax or Get Murked. If you don't relax talking crazy, acting crazy, you're gonna end up getting murked in these streets."

He pauses then looks off to the side as if in deep thought. "I know this probably won't make sense to people who aren't in that life, but it can. It's like humans..we're emotional beings. We always want to do stuff when we're emotional and full of adrenaline. That's where people mess up because you're not thinking straight. Doing stuff off of emotions could get you or someone else hurt whether that's physically, emotionally, or financially. I'm just saying relax before it ends bad. Does that make sense?"

"It makes complete sense. I like it." He says a thanks as he sticks his hands in the pockets of his grey pants. "I guess since we have a little time before the show starts we should go over your schedule." He nods his head as I ask my assistant to pass me her iPad. I unlock it then go to an app that has all my calendars for my different clients. I find his then click on it. "After today, honestly I'm not going to a lot of these fashion shows. NYFW is 10 days. That's a little much, especially when there's about 10 shows a day. I think you should only go to the Alexander Wang, Phillip Plein, Moschino, Fenty Puma, Gucci, Vetements, and The Blondes show. Also, the NYFW Networking party."

"You said that like it's still not a lot of shows," he says laughing a little. "Sounds cool to me though. Those are the only designers I really like to be honest."

"Me too," I say truthfully. "Then next week we're supposed to meet up in the Garment District to go fabric shopping and for you to meet the seamstress who will make the samples for your first pieces. You also have a photoshoot on the very next day on the 12th. That's pretty much it for this week and next week."

"That's it? Sounds like a lot to me."

"Draco, that's nothing. That's not even everyday. I do this everyday. Plus, most of it is honestly fun. Going to fashion shows is easy," I say waving my hand off.

"Not when you're a home-body like me. I like staying at home not out at all these events. It's mad draining being around people I don't know for hours on end trying to make conversation."

"I get what you're saying, but it's a necessity to succeed in this industry. You may not see it now, but you'll need these people. If they get along with you they'll buy your stuff then it'll be seen on them then more people will buy it. A chain reaction." Draco nods his head in understanding. I look him up and down looking at his outfit. It was simple, but effective.

"That bag is cute," I say looking at the Chanel bag. Not one of those classic Chanel quilted or boy bags women wear. I don't think Draco would ever in his life. He didn't take me as that type of man in the first place. You know men wear those messenger bags now. The Man Bag or the Murse. I'm not even mad at the trend. It's cute, I just wanna know what they have in there. Probably just some condoms, weed, a lighter, and money. "What you got in there anyway?" I ask jokingly. I try to look in the bag as Draco snatches it away. I furrow my brows looking at him. "You clearly don't want me to see. You got personal items in there," I tease.

"It's best if you don't know what's in here. If you don't know, you don't know." I furrow my brows looking at him as he just stares at me. The first thing that came to my mind were drugs honestly. It took me back to Apollo saying he's here on 'business.'

I arch my brow then say, "What the hell is in there, Draco?" I lean in whispering, "Are you forgetting I said once I get one of these things up and running you would quit whatever it is you're doing? I got the record label going, so you need to keep your end of the bargain up."

"It's just a gun...for protection," he mumbles.

"Just a gun? I guess you forgot we're in New York. People get years for gun charges. What the hell do you need a gun for at a fashion show? There's no danger or threat here, just killer fashion. The most you'll get is someone trying to cat walk you to death or an insult on your outfit. You don't need a gun."

"Like you said, you forget we're in New York? Anything can happen." I sigh then he says, "I am gonna quit, but I can't do it right away. I have loose ends I need to tie up."

"Then maybe we shouldn't work together until it's tied up nice and tight..." I say crossing my arms across my chest. "I can't get caught up in your mess. This isn't just about me or my business. I put money in people's pockets and food on people's tables. I have people working for me, hundreds...If something happens to what I have, they don't have anything."

"Look, none of that is going to cross into your world. Don't do that. You know I need you. And when I say I need you, I need you," he says lowly but with urgency in his voice. "I know how to keep two worlds separate. I've been living a double life a long ass time. I just need more time."

"Remember what I told you? Time is money. There's a difference between slow money and quick cash. Don't fuck this up and make me look stupid."

"I won't. I promise," he reassures me as we hold a stare.

"Excuse me," a man says to us making us look at him. "Can you two take your seats. The show is about to begin." I nod my head giving him a fake smile to make him go away.

"You take my seat on the front row. I'll take the other seat on the row behind."

"You sure?" He asks.

"Yeah, I need people to see you. They take pictures of the front row, not the ones behind it. You need to be seen. You need those looks to garner attention. I've had enough attention." We go to our seats. He's sitting in the front row with his brother, Apollo, and I'm on the second row with Paloma. When the seat beside me becomes occupied I look to my right to see Rhea. She smiles as we hug.

"You look cute," I compliment looking at her outfit. At least what I could see with her sitting down.

"Damn, you can't say hey to me," I hear a male voice say. I look around her seeing Ares sitting in the spot next to her.

"I didn't even see you. I'm sorry. Hi, Ares," I say waving with a smile. He gives me one of those flimsy fake waves where you just dip your hand down with a petty smile making me laugh. I like him.

When Fame by David Bowie start playing I get excited because I love disco music. I wasn't born during that era, but I could appreciate the music and clothes. "I don't know if I should've given you the front row seat. You gotta big ass head," I mumble looking at the back of Draco's' head as a model comes down the runway.

He just turns around shushing me then turns right back around looking at the show. I roll my eyes a little then look over to my side because a light was distracting me. It was Rhea on her phone texting away. I look forward again seeing another light because Apollo is on his phone. I don't care, they're married.

We're halfway through the Tom Ford show and I am LIVING! I love a good pant suit and every model that comes down the runway in one I want to buy it. I hold my iPhone 7 up to record a video for my Snapchat because I like the outfit the model is wearing. She couldn't walk for nothing in those heels, but she gets points for trying I guess. I hold down the record button as the model reaches the end of the runway. She stands at the end of the runway for an unusually long time then all of sudden she just falls out. The whole room gasps as a collective just looking in shock as she begins to shake on the ground having what looks like a seizure. I lower my phone as everyone just stares at the girl waiting for her to get up, but she doesn't.

"Is this apart of the show?" Paloma asks looking confused as hell. She would ask that dumb ass question. Finally someone just ends up rushing over to her to see what's wrong. We all watch on as people try to help her and a man checks her pulse. I can hear him say, "call 911," causing people to whisper. "Oh, shit! This is real. Girlll," Paloma says. I see Apollo look back in my direction, but I can tell he's looking at Rhea and not me. He nods his head to the left making me narrow my eyes at him.

A second later Rhea says, "I'll be back." She gets up squeezing past me and Paloma down the row then walks off. I furrow my brows as we all just sit there. What else could we do?

It didn't take long for the ambulance and EMT's to come with a gurney. At this point they made everyone get up from the seats and move. When I see a woman who I know works with Tom Ford and his models I grab and stop her. "Do they know what's wrong with her?"

"They think it's a drug overdose. These models and there many ways to stay skinny are going to be the death of me," she says shaking her head. She walks off as Draco walks up to me. Before he can say anything someone is yelling to get everyone's attention. "We're sorry to inform you, but the fashion show is over. We would appreciate it if everyone left the building calmly and orderly."

"Damn, that's some start to Fashion Week. First show and models falling out," Draco says blowing out air. I look around for Paloma in the crowd and we find each other at the same time.

She comes up to me saying, "I just talked to a friend of mine. There's another fashion show across the street. Let's go." Her latching onto my arm dragging me was her way of saying you have no choice in the matter.

I look back at Draco asking, "You coming?"

"I'll be ova there," he says as I'm dragged away. As we walk out of the building I see Rhea standing on the sidewalk talking to Apollo. A man comes up to Apollo giving him a handshake and I swear I see the man slide him some money at the same time. I furrow my eyebrows and when Rhea looks at me I quickly look away.

Something is telling me, I may have made a mistake getting involved with Draco, especially now that he wants to include his family. Maybe I was disillusioning myself by believing that Draco is a good person and he can change. I've convinced myself that he's not a bad person, just a person of bad circumstances. I don't know what him or his family has going on, but I know it's not good...

I leave the Tom Ford fashion show like everyone else going to the one across the street. I sit front row with Draco watching this boring ass shit. I was only here to do a job. To sell and make money. I wasn't going to pass up some money just because this isn't my environment. When the designer walks out doing his final walk as all the models follow him I'm relieved. "Thank God," I say as the designer does a bow then walks off of the runway.

"Yo, I still keep thinking about that girl who had a seizure at the last show. You ain't–" Draco says, but I shoot him a look making him stop talking. This wasn't the place to be having this conversation. I stand up from my seat and he does too.

"We can talk about this later," I say looking around the room. "Until then, I got shit to handle."

Draco grabs my arm looking up at me. "You really bout to keep selling after what happened at the last show?" He whispers. "You sold that girl bad product. She had a seizure on your watch."

"She didn't have one on my watch. Maybe on a Fossil Watch, but not my Patek. It wasn't bad product. It was bad use of the product. She should've known her limit. She overdosed. Ain't got shit to do with me."

There were two types of models: The one who did drugs before the show to help with the nervousness of walking in front of a big crowd and the ones who did it after to celebrate the fact they just walked in Fashion Week. There were some models who would never do drugs before they walked because they had some kind of sense. If they didn't, that wasn't my fault. I just sell the shit.

"Sometimes you sound like an evil, careless mutha fucker," Draco says letting go of my arm.

"What the fuck you want me to do? Visit her in the hospital and bring her a get well soon balloon?"

"You need to do something unless you want her telling the police who sold her that shit. This is a white girl. A white, supermodel. Trust me, they're going to look into it."

"That's good for them, but it'll never tie back to me. If you're so concerned, you find her and you go visit her. You've always been more of the people person anyway. Tell her whatever you need to make sure she doesn't tell the police who sold it to her. You handle that and I'll handle who ever made that mistake. Aiight," I say patting his shoulder.

As much as I was acting like I didn't care I did. One of my workers was finna get it. When it came to events involving high profile people I made sure they never put more than a certain amount in each bag. That way no one could overdose and it trace back to me or my people.

"I'll be back." I walk away from him walking up to a man. I shake his hand and the same time he slips the money to me. I slide it into my pants pockets then say, "He's back there." I nod my head to my man who's just standing in the back watching.

The man nods his head then walks off. I turn around watching as he goes up to my worker. My worker gives him what he paid for, which is a baggie of coke and pills for him to enjoy the night with.

I look around the room for no one in particular. I sent Rhea home after what happened at the last show and because Ares came with her, he left too. My eyes land on this chick. I don't know why, they just did...

In that moment of looking at her I realize it's the woman that was with Desdemona earlier. She's a good looking woman, but I'm married. When I feel like she's about to look in my direction, I look away. I keep scanning the room finally spotting Draco who's talking to Desdemona. I swear this man been up her ass ever since he started working with her. I still didn't like her. There was something about her..

I walk over to them and when I walk up they stop talking. "What's up?" Draco asks me.

"I'm about to get going. You gon' come through the spot later?"

"I'll be there," he says as I nod my head. We dap then I leave.

I go to the spot in Spanish Harlem. I walk in seeing all the young dudes lazying around the downstairs living room playing video games and other bullshit when they're supposed to be working. As soon as they see me walk in, they try to sit up straight staring at me. "My brothers here?" I ask calmly.

"Y-yeah, Glock and Ares are upstairs," Haze says nervously.

"Go get them," is all I say looking down at my phone responding to a text from my wife. I type a reply hitting send right as my brothers come down the stairs with Haze. I knew Rhea would be huffing and puffing then calling my phone with an attitude once she read my reply.

I just didn't feel like driving back to Jersey tonight. I had business to handle. I look up and everyone's looking at me. "Something happened tonight that shouldn't have happened. A girl had a seizure meaning she overdosed...from our product."

"Word?" This dude we call Hammer says like a dummy. This niggas a little slow and I was two seconds from getting rid of him.

"Yes, word. Ares was there. He saw it," I say looking at him.

"Girl was strutting her ass off down that runway," he says imitating the walk making some of them laugh. "Then she just fell out shaking like a stripper," he goes on simulating a seizure. At least that what I assume he was trying to do by shaking his shoulders and shit.

They laugh again, but stop when I say, "This shit ain't no laughing matter. This is serious cause if the bitch die or has permanent damage the cops gon' want answers. If they're lookin' for answers they can find them in us. What did I say? How much Coke in each bag?"

"1.2 grams," they say in unison from off their heads because I had drilled it in them so much.

"So why is someone overdosing on that little ass amount?" I ask looking at each of them.

"Well, I mean, they say the estimated minimal lethal dose of cocaine is 1.2 grams, but individuals with hypersensitivity to cocaine have died from as little as 30 milligrams," this dude Rex states like a smart ass. All the young dudes glare at him making him say, "What? It's true. She coulda been a newbie not knowing her limit and overdosed."

"I don't sell to no fucking newbies at Fashion Week just so this type of shit don't happen. I wanna know who the fuck was being lazy or careless and not weighing the shit out perfectly." They all get quiet looking around, but saying nothing.

"It's best y'all start speaking. I'm not the cops. I'm not just gonna throw ya black ass in jail. I'ma kill you. If no one talks y'all can all end up dead. It's nothing to me," I say pulling the gun from the back of my pants then sitting down on a chair. I place the gun in my lap watching all their eyes become shifty trying to see who would speak first.

"Shiiiitt, I'm not dying for y'all. I gotta daughter," Haze says first. I knew he would because he's the best one out of the young cats. "Hammer was eyeballing all his bags cause he was tryna get to some pussy. Wasn't measuring nothing. Just putting the shit in there and saying, 'This looks right.' I told him pussy ain't worth ya life or freedom, but he ain't care. I tried to fix his mistakes, but I guess I missed a bag."

I hear Hammer smack his lips mumbling things under his breath. "Don't be mad now. You did this to yaself. I hope that pussy was wet and tight as fuck because you bout to be real tight at what I say next.."

"It was aiight. I mean, she had a fat ass, but the head was wack," he says like an idiot. "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't think it really mattered."

"Oh, it matters. Not only did someone overdose, but that also means she paid a less amount for more product. We lost money because of that. A few dollas, but every cent counts whether it's a thousand or a million. If money is missing the amount ain't the same. It changes everything."

He looks down like a sad ass puppy. "I'm gonna die. Aren't I?" He asks looking up.

"No, but you are fired." Everyone looks in surprise including my brothers. I never just fired someone. They got fired then the unemployment package; a bullet to the head. I didn't need people who used to work for me seeking revenge or going to the police. "Get out of my face and never come back," I say nodding my head towards the door.

I watch him as he gets up rushing towards the door. I pick up the gun from my lap pulling the trigger sending one to his back making him fall. I stand up standing over him as he begins to scoot across the floor. I pull the trigger again this time aiming at the back of his head. His hands tremble then he stops moving. "This is what the fuck happens when you don't follow my rules. I have rules for a reason. Don't get killed over even a fucking milligram. Got it?"

They all look at me with fear in their eyes nodding their heads. "Clean this shit up," I say looking at his body on the floor in disgust.

I walk towards Glock as he says, "I really thought you were gonna let him walk out of here. I was already plotting of how I was gonna get his ass."

"I ain't dumb. Just cause we're tryna transition out don't mean I've become soft." I have a feeling this year is going to be a year of more crime than ever. 365 days and nights to try and go crime free. It's definitely not going to be easy...Especially for me.

I walk over to the calendar on the that has a picture of flowers for the month of September. I take a market x'ing out today's date. Two days down, 363 days to go...

First semi-short chapter lol. Comment / Vote.