“Fuck you just say?” he asked, as his face screwed in disgust. He never lost his cool, but she saw the blaze in his eyes. He gripped her by the elbow and grabbed an open bottle of Ace from the ice bucket. He poured it all over her, as he pulled her roughly through the section, before tossing her outside of the velvet ropes. “Throw her ass out,” he told his two goons, who secured his section, making sure only those he invited entered his space. He had caused a scene and Shayna was laughed out the club, as she shouted, “Fuck you, Messiah!”

“You good, G?”

Messiah looked at his best friend, Isa.

“I’m solid. Bitch just in here talking reckless. Pour up,” Messiah said.

“In all the years I’ve known you, nigga, you’re never down to drink around a crowd. What happened to all that holistic shit that nigga, Ethic, be putting in your head? Sober body, sober mind and shit,” Isa said.

Messiah reached for another bottle of champagne and titled it toward his mouth. “It’s needed tonight, trust. The way I feel, I might blow a nigga head off.”

“She’s just having fun, bruh. She’s playing with these niggas in here. She knows she got it. These thirsty mu’fuckas in here are puppets on her string,” Isa said. He had never known Messiah to invest his energy into any woman, let alone one as young as Morgan, but the jealousy that danced in Messiah’s eyes were a dead giveaway to things he wouldn’t dare say.

Messiah wanted to deny what Isa was insinuating, but he wasn’t the type to spread falsehoods, so he opted to take another gulp of the liquor instead.

The mood lighting in the club made the way Morgan was moving her body even more sensual, and Messiah’s chest was tight, as her dancing partner’s hands roamed her. His section wasn’t short of groupies, there were always women hanging around, willing to do whatever to be chosen for the night. Messiah usually didn’t fall for the trap, but he needed leverage; or at the very least, someone to take his mind off Morgan. She was the forbidden fruit. Not only was she young, she was Ethic’s pride and joy. Getting involved with her would be teetering on disrespect and Messiah knew how Ethic handled impertinence. Messiah feared no one, but he wasn’t looking to offend a living legend either. He valued the guidance Ethic so graciously offered. He turned his back to the dance floor, opting to appreciate the random beauty that was vying hard for his attention.