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Chapters (41)
  1. Ethic
  2. Ashley Antoinette
  3. Recommendation From The Author
  4. Dedication
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. Morgan:
  8. Messiah:
  9. Morgan:
  10. Messiah:
  11. Untitled
  12. Messiah:
  13. Messiah:
  14. 3
  15. 4
  16. 5
  17. 6
  18. 7
  19. 8
  20. 9
  21. 10
  22. Bestie:
  23. Morgan:
  24. Bestie:
  25. Morgan:
  26. Bestie:
  27. 11
  28. 12
  29. Ethic:
  30. 13
  31. Untitled
  32. Morgan:
  33. Messiah:
  34. 14
  35. 15
  36. 16
  37. 17
  38. 18
  39. 19
  40. 20
  41. Untitled

Morgan smirked, knowing that she had never stood in a line a day of her life, and tonight wouldn’t be any different. She had enjoyed her party. It was tradition and she didn’t have the heart to tell Ethic that she had no interest in one this year, but she was ready for a real turn up. On a Saturday night, there was only one place to be.

3

Messiah sat in V.I.P at Afterhours. The nightclub was filled to capacity, but his eyes were glued on one woman - Morgan. She was putting on a show. His temple throbbed, as she swung her long braids and her hips rolled to the beat. Gone was the couture, model look she had donned earlier. She was a vixen - one that knew she had every man in the club ogling her. There was a party going on all around him. Shayna and her friends mingled with his people, popping bottles of champagne, but Messiah’s mood had been spoiled. The sight of Morgan half-dressed, garnering the attention of every dude in the building, had him ready to dead something without thinking twice. He told himself it was out of loyalty to Ethic. She wasn’t supposed to be out there, shaking her ass. He was just being a good soldier. Right? Or was it something more? Did the disdain spark from the image of her, showing off something that he wanted her to keep a secret? Her beauty was hard to miss, even without her accentuating it. She tried so hard, with tons of makeup and false lashes, but Messiah noticed it most when he saw her out of her element. Like, when he popped up at their crib to return her car. Nights like this one, she was too obvious, too loose, and he clenched his jaw in irritation, as he saw her bend, slightly, in front of one of his adversaries, while working her derrière with expertise. Clown nigga on the dance floor, freaking off. He lucky I don’t rob his bitch-ass, Messiah thought.

“You’re acting real funny tonight,” Shayna said, as she sat beside him and extended the blunt she was smoking to him. He pushed her hand away.

“Fuck out of here,” he dismissed.

Her eyes followed his to the dance floor and she popped her lips. “That retarded-ass bitch is the reason you’re over here sour-faced?” she shot.