He crossed the room and got on his knees in front of her, as he began to remove her clothes. He started with her jewelry. The diamonds on her neck and wrists were brilliant, just another accessory that exasperated the girls around the city that were, simply, not on Morgan’s level. She was another breed, a dying class, a vintage version of a model of hustlers’ wives that no longer existed. She just didn’t know it. She was Justine Atkins’ daughter; her beauty was inherited. If only Morgan knew her worth. Her last name was the reason why Messiah hesitated. Her history was the reason why he respected her. Kendrick had described it best: “There was loyalty and royalty inside her DNA.” Messiah was undressing a queen, and because of this, he did it respectfully, hoping that she would be able to get herself together enough to finish the job before her beautiful body was exposed. She sat there, however, soft tears falling, head bowed, disgracefully, as she wrung her fingers nervously.

Messiah started with her dress, next, rolling it up her smooth skin and pulling it gently over her head, as she raised her arms. Her panties were gone, and she wore no bra. Messiah reached around her, running warm water into the spa-sized bath and she turned to submerge inside the tub.

He washed her, gently, slowly, his strong hands rubbing the knots of tension out of her shoulders, as he cleaned her from head to toe. It felt like a privilege; as if he was washing the dirt off the toes of a queen, because she was truly too special to walk through the grudge of the earth. Morgan was like a goddess and he was simply mortal. She wasn’t supposed to be susceptible to the tangible ails of the streets. She was above them. If she realized that, she wouldn’t pursue it, but he knew she was just trying to find a place where she belonged. She was displaced, the only one left standing with her family name, and she was searching for something. She was attracted by the allure of the game. He had to stop her from self-destructing, even if only for tonight.

He tried to wash away her tears, his wet finger wiping them, but they were only replaced with new ones. He turned her chin to him and she looked at him, her bottom lip quivering.