Page 13 of Roulette: The Madam

Click.

Clack.

Upstairs, I discovered three additional bedrooms, bathrooms, an entertainment room, and a second living room. I pushed the door open to the master suite to find it fully furnished as the rest of the house. The furniture resembled the pieces I’d spent years collecting in my old home.

Though the style was relatively close, it was elevated. Chemistry had taken things up a few notches. Nude polished every detail in my home. The monochrome dwelling brought me more peace than the rose toy I had replaced six times since moving to St. Catana because I couldn’t keep it off my pussy longer than twenty four hours.

Hints of red scattered around were added bonuses that reminded me I was on borrowed time. Red vases, candles, coffee table books, and art pieces were subtle details that stood out from the beiges of my home.

“One week,” I promised myself.

I tipped the glass, swallowing the fizzy liquid.

“Four days,” I corrected. “Four days and I should have a location secured.”

There was no time for sulking. Sitting. Crying. Wondering why. Or wondering how I’d contributed to my man’s behavior. I wasn’t that girl and I wouldn’t ever be. My contributions to Chino’s decisions didn’t exist.

He was an adult and breaking the simple rules set was a choice. He’d made it and it was him who’d suffer because of it. There were worse things than the heartbreak I was feeling. Losing me was one of them and Chino had done just that.

“But, first, revenge.” I chuckled, opening the door of the gargantuan closet in the master suite. It was the size of two bedrooms. It was equipped with a half-bathroom for convenience.

Twenty minutes later,my feet were flush against the plush red mat with a red satin head wrap protecting my hair. My hands slid across my breasts as I left a trail of soap. Beads of water bounced off my chest and trickled down my stomach. Slowly, I massaged my nipples, recalling the last time they’d been properly sucked or rolled between a set of calloused fingers.

The memory was agonizing. I tossed my head backward and squeezed gently, relieving the pent up frustration. It had been too long. Closing my eyes, I released a shaky breath. Even with the uncertainty of my romantic future settling in, I was hopeful.

Niggas are replaceable.

So is dick.

I cleansed my body, thoroughly, and allowed the warm water to caress me. I patted my body with an oversized towel as I exited the shower, sure not to dry it completely. Thick, creamy lotion touched my damp skin. I slathered it on, refusing to rub it in completely.

I strolled through the bathroom, making my way into the massive closet with a large vanity cut-out. Four shelves lined the wall with what seemed to be a never-ending collection of my favorite scents. I passed up most of the boxed fragrances to grab the latest obsession.

Rugger had introduced us toRiotfromHuffington Fragrance House, which I wholeheartedly adored. However, I’d been dying to get my hands on their newest scent.Wilde. I opened the magnetic flap, removed the clear bottle, and pressed the sprayer.

Soft. Summer. Sultry. Subtle.

The gentleness of the fragrance packed a mighty punch but was overall very contradicting of its name. It wasn’t at all Wilde. It was womanly. Feminine.

“Oh, this is good.Realgood.”

I spritzed my entire body down before sitting it back on the shelf and proceeding to soak my skin with the lotion. The air-drying process began as I walked the length of my closet. I settled in front of the section dedicated to house attire. It was a section my mother preached the importance of since we could understand full sentences.

You’re home more than you believe. Your life was predestined this way. Your father and I created you with this way of life in mind. You leave your home because you want to, not because you have to.

While you’re there, make sure you’re at your best. Even better than when in the company of the public–if you can manage it. Because, it’s behind those walls when your truest self is present. When you walk past those mirrors, make sure the woman you desire is walking past them too. Staring back at you. Proudly.

Rhea was femininity wrapped in wide hips and a frame most women died for. She’d blessed us all with her beauty although Richie was ingrained in our makeup. Our minds modeled his genius. But, our hearts belonged to Rhea.

Rugger had been the exception until we discovered she wasn’t. Most times I imagined I was an exception as well, but the pain in my chest proved the apple hadn’t fallen too far from the tree.

“Quality is key,Roulette. Not quantity. Signature color. Signature fabric. Signature fragrance. It simplifies yourwardrobe and weeds out so many unnecessary pieces that will cling to hangers for years because your interest was only invested upon sight, not genuinely.

“Always, and I mean always, exercise extreme. Even in simplicity. You are the main character of your story. Be her. You are a lot, baby girl. You couldn’t tone it down if you tried. But, don’t ever try. For the right people you’ll always be just the right amount of everything. For everyone else– well, they don’t exist.

“You remind me of red. Bold. Breathtaking. Classic. Diverse. Sassy. Yes. Red. Not everyone can pull it off. And, not everyone is bold enough. But, you are Roulette. Stay that way. Your fierceness will offend so many people in your lifetime. Their problem, not yours.

“Your confidence will silence many people in your lifetime. Let them stay quiet. Your beauty will upset many people in your lifetime. Leave them mad. Your knowledge will humble many people in your lifetime. Make them level up, Roulette. Never dumb it down.

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