Page 9 of Possessing the Prince

Adom goes over to the bar and pours us all a shot of King Louis XVI. It is a treat for him. He does not drink at home because Maya is sober. Now that I’ve married Abena, I will soon share that fate. He brings us the glasses, raises his up, and knocks back his drink before speaking. “Do you think that will be enough for Kwabena’s fat ass? I’m convinced whatever we offer him, he will counter and try to up the ante. We must be prepared to give more if we want to leave with his blessing on the first visit.”

I down my shot. “No. Because I will let him know in no uncertain terms that I personally will make his life miserable if he deigns to interfere. The chief knows not to fuck with Kofi or me. He just met you, Adom, and does not know you very well. But I am sure he will find out soon enough that you are just as cutthroat as we are, if not more.”

Adom laughs. “I’m definitely more cutthroat than Kofi, but I’m beginning to think you might have me beat.”

“It sounds like the two of you are calling your king a bitch.” Kofi finally takes his drink and fakes offense before taking our glasses back to the bar. Ella is rubbing off on him. Calling someone a bitch is definitely an American phenomenon. “Let’s not forget I fucked up Ella’s ex in an Atlanta restaurant. I also beat Thomas Owusu down in his own house. I bet the blood is still in that white carpet.”

We all bust out in laughter before I agree. “Yes, we are all bad asses because we are all Ashanti. We are all Asantes. Now, let's go home so we are well rested and prepared to get my woman. We are due in Tarkwa at 11 a.m. Tardiness will not be accepted. The chief knows we are coming, and I am sure he will look for any reason to turn us away.”

Kofi leads us out of the office to the front door. “Will Abena be there?”

I nod. “Yes. She arrives tonight in two hours. But I told her to stay away from our meeting. She promised she would.”

Kofi nods. “All right, then, brothers. Tomorrow we will go and land Senya a wife.”

Adom slaps my back. “Little brother, I hope you’re ready for what you’re asking for.”

He has no idea. I was born ready. Abena is mine, and I always take care of what’s mine.

Landing

Abena

To avoid thinking about Senya and his demands, I slept the entire flight from London to Accra. It was easy to do since I am the only passenger on the private jet Senya sent for me. I told him I could fly British Airways Business Class as I always do, but he would not hear of it. Apparently, no wife of his will fly commercial. He is already creeping into my world and changing my routines and way of life.

I am old enough to know the kind of pampering and fanfare Senya is currently heaping upon me comes with a price I’m not prepared to pay. I do not want to be controlled or coddled. Senya has done nothing but worship and respect me for the woman I’ve become over the years. I don’t have any real reason to believe that will change. But I can’t shake what my upbringing has taught me. Men with money also like power and control…control over everything in their world.I almost wish I didn’t know he was well off. I could continue to believe he had a modest income with royal ties and access to some wealth. Now that I know he has enough money to buy and sell my life twice over, I feel a bit trapped.

But I have no time to think about any of those fears, because as soon as I deplane, Senya is waiting for me in all his glory. I’m so glad I listened to Maya’s advice and dressed in the proper outfit I'm wearing instead of my initial idea of comfortable yoga pants and a sweater. She reminded me that once I arrived in Ghana, I would be serving as consort to a prince. I must always be camera ready. Now I know I must also be Senya ready. I have a feeling he will pop up anywhere and everywhere.

I am dressed in my favorite dark blue denim jeans that make my ass look like Beyoncé’s. I paired it with a very low-cut black silk camisole and a colorful Johnny Was silk kimono. My hair is blown straight down my back, and I slipped on some nude stilettos before I exited the plane. I look good.

I had a feeling Senya would be here even though he never explicitly said he would. He’s protective like that. At this point, whether I am ready or not, I am his possession. He takes care of his belongings, and I’m sure he needed to see me safely land with his own two eyes before he could get on with his evening. But now that I see him standing and waiting for me, I know I could not face my family without seeing him and feeling his strong arms around me.

Furthermore, I’ve had the strange feeling of being followed and watched for the past week. I’ve never felt unsafe in London, but for the past few days, I’ve honestly thought of buying mace. The feeling has directly coincided with Senya and I’s elopement. Could my father be spying on me? Something in my surroundings has been off. I didn't tell Senya because I knew I was being ridiculous. Plus, if he thought I was concerned about my safety or surroundings at all, he would lock me down. I would not be able to go anywhere. So it feels more than good to see my big strong prince waiting for me now.

He’s been my pillar of strength. He’s standing on the tarmac dressed in the thin linen Brunello Cucinelli sweater I gifted him years ago along with a matching pair of white linen pants that fit him perfectly. He looks like the omnipresent sky god Nyame, and just like the Ashanti god, his chocolate skin is shimmering in the sun. His Vuitton shades mark him as a mystery man who might just be too rich for his own good. And far too dangerous for anyone else's. As I get closer, he licks his full lips and reaches out to embrace me.

When I'm close enough, he grabs me by my silk kimono and pulls me into his embrace. And just like that, I’m taken. I’m both figuratively and literally lost in his warmth. He reaches down and kisses me like I’m all that matters in the world to him. His lips own me, and his tongue wipes away all my insecurities. I know he’s claiming me, even while I am reluctant to be his. I pull away and try to catch my breath.

“Hello to you, too. Is this usually how princes greet their royal subjects?”

He chuckles, pushes some hair from my face, and strokes my cheek. “No, this is how husbands greet their wives. Plus, I missed your taste. I simply had to have you. But, if you are my subject, does that mean you will do whatever I ask without any question?”

I bite my bottom lip. “No, but I am sure I can be persuaded to do most things your highness desires. As long as it does not involve any more kisses like that.”

Senya feigns shock. “Why not? You should be kissed like that often. You are incredible and irresistible.” He growls.

“Yes, but I am also a woman that is determined not to end up in your bed. You are not making this easy for me, Prince. I thought we were taking a break from each other until after the knocking. You need to prepare.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Umm hmm. You made it known you were taking a break from me, but I never agreed.”

I release a sigh.He’s impossible.

“Abena, you should know I would never have you arrive from a long flight and not personally collect you. I want to ensure you are good and have everything you need.”

“I’m good, Senya.”

He tilts his head. “Are you? You definitely look good.” He takes my hand and spins me around until I laugh. When we stop, his face is serious. “But, what about your father? Are you ready to face him?”

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