Page 6 of Ms. Mosley

As I walked into the building, I could feel his eyes fixed on my backside. I didn’t have a huge ass but was often told for a girl on the smaller side, that thang poked. Prosper’s foolishness continued until we reached the elevators. I cursed inwardly when I realized we were the only ones getting on.

Inside the small space, the scent of his cologne enveloped me, and I couldn't help but notice how amazing he looked. His coal-black waves were thick, glistening against his chocolate complexion. I also realized he had a slanted part that wasn’t there yesterday, and I mentally scolded myself for recognizing every detail. He’d woken his fine ass up this morning and decided to go get a haircut as if it wasn't already perfection.

“You look so beautiful, mama.” He complimented once the doors closed. “You don’t belong in this generation of women.”

I shot him another glance, this one more pointed.

He chuckled, his large hand flicking his nostrils and I did not miss the VVS Cuban Link Bracelet hanging from his wrist. “What’s the problem, Ms. Mosley?”

“You,” I replied, secretly clenching my thighs together in the Pencil Skirt I wore.Why the fuck would he call me mama?“Didn’t we just have a discussion about your actions yesterday?”

“Yeah, we did. I can’t help the shit though. You beautiful, and I think you should be told that every moment of the day.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “I’ve held back long enough.”

“Prosper, you don’t take my class today. Why are you going to the third floor?” I cut his shenanigans short, realizing he hadn't pressed a button for a different floor.

Our private community college had an intimate layout, and I shared the floor with only one other teacher. I was pretty sure Prosper didn’t take Ms. Lopez’s class, since she and I were very cool and often wandered into each other’s rooms throughout the day to chat. I had never seen him in there.

He smirked mischievously, a hint of his grill glinting. “Because I wanna spend time with you, and unfortunately, this is my only way to do so.For now, at least.”

We locked eyes, sharing an intense moment. Just as I was about to put him in his place, the elevator came to a stop and the door slid open.

On the other side, a group of students leaving Ms. Lopez's class was waiting to get on. Thanking God for the small crowd, I made my escape, leaving Prosper behind.

chapter four.

Prosper

After my last class, I left school and drove to a privately owned gym I frequented for both workouts and business. Upon entering, I headed straight to the back room to change. Because this was a business meeting no other customers were present. When I returned to the front, the owner was already waiting for me by the equipment, as usual.

“P,” he greeted me with a nod as we slapped hands.

“Santana… How you feelin’, fam?” I plopped down on a bench to begin my workout.

“Shit…I’m alive. Can’t complain.”

“I feel you,”

“You been good?”

“Hell yeah,”

“Cool, I got an issue that needs to be solved.”

“I’m listenin’.”

Santana Rossi was more than just a gym owner; he wore many hats. In addition to managing the gym and a recording studio, he served as a major drug distributor across Texas. Niggas had their own crews, but they all sourced their product from him. Our connection traced back to his late grandfather, Maverick, and my grandfather.

My grandfather was one of Maverick’s enforcers, and as he got older, he trained my father, who eventually passed on theskills to me to step into that role. Aside from the inherent risks, I had no complaints about the position within the organization. At just twenty-five years old, I was raking in more money than niggas twice my age.

The room fell silent as we worked out. Once Santana was done, he said,

“I got a muthafucka trying to make his way into another territory without permission. He’s stepping on one of my best buyer's toes. I need you to send a message to prevent a war from fuckin’ up my bread. But most importantly, I need niggas to remember how things are supposed to go. Understand?”

“Understood.”

That meant he wanted me to make an example out of him. A reminder that anyone wanting to switch up and serve elsewhere had to get his blessings first. Santana ultimately controlled the entire board, and there were severe repercussions for not following his guidelines. He wouldn’t hesitate to cut off someone’s entire supply line—or worse, their entire bloodline. It was a dangerous game.

“Cool, I’ll send the details right after this session.”

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