Page 8 of Dom
Forty minutes later, I was dressed in a caramel-colored maxi dress with a thigh-high slit, gold hoops, and shades that said‘bitch, I’m money’just from one look.Dom was in a black Versace tee, wearing a gold Cuban chain thick enough to fund a whole damn lawsuit, with jeans hugging his muscular frame. He had his duffle thrown over his shoulder like he was still in the trap, and the Glock under his hoodie told me he wasn’t about to be caught slipping.
We moved like royalty as two blacked-out bulletproof Escalades waited curbside of my building. Roman stood near the rear, nodding once as we approached the truck. My heels sounded like drums clicking across the concrete as we slid into the backseat. By the time we pulled into the private terminal at Opa-Locka Executive Airport, my jaw dropped looking at thered carpet… a ‘real’ fucking red carpet lined with scattered rose petals that led to a jet. The steps were down, and the Royal Enterprises logo shimmered on the side like it belonged to a true boss because it really did.
“Dom…” I whispered, catching my breath in my throat.
He took my hand and kissed the back of it, which was something he’d never done. Him seeing me with Dru must’ve really done something to him. “Told you… you mine today.” He told me as he led me to the jet allowing me to walk ahead of him.
The inside of the jet was a dream come true with white leather seats, plush throw blankets, chilled champagne, with a handwritten note with my name in cursive waiting on the table. Even the walls were covered with nice floral arrangements pinned to them. Everything smelled like vanilla and leather.
As we buckled in, he pulled me close. “You good?” he asked, brushing a strand of hair off my face. Dom was fine as hell, the finest man I ever seen in my life to be exact. It was a lot of women who wanted him and no matter how standoffish he was about love, he was here with me which is something I knew for a fact no other female could ever get from him. Good dick, maybe… but this kind of treatment, absolutely not.
I nodded. “This is something I’ve never had.”
“You got it now,” he said in a serious tone. “So get used to it.”
Dom’s shadows sat in the back of the jet while Dom and I were caught up in our own world. Dom smoked a fat joint while I sipped on my champagne. I spent the most of my life being so hard, that for once I felt like it was okay to walk in my true feminine nature. It was okay to be a boss but still be hard at the same time.
We arrived in the Bahamas in no time. The sun shined over the pretty water as we landed, and the palm trees swayed along with the breeze. Two local black trucks were already waiting for us, parked discreetly near the tarmac. Dom’s people followed inthe truck behind us and when we got to the villa, theirs was right next to ours. The villa was a whole other story because luxury wasn’t even the word. We walked into a glass-walled estate tucked behind a lush garden entrance, and of course it was guarded. It was decked out with marble floors and an infinity pool. It was an open layout with fresh flowers lined along the entry, and in the center of the room was a bouquet of red orchids and a sign that said, ‘Welcome to Paradise, Mrs. Royal.’
Dom saw the way I stopped in place swallowing the lump in my throat. He slid up behind me gripping my waist. “Ain’t sayin’ I’m perfect, Carmen… but I know what I want.”
I turned to him with my brows raised. “And what’s that?”
“You.” He said not skipping a beat. “I know ain’t no other female gettin’ this shit but you.”
Before I could respond, a chef came in with two trays, respectfully nodding to acknowledge us before heading to the gourmet kitchen. The smells of jerk seafood and tropical fruits already filled the air but none of that shit compared to the heat in Dom’s eyes. Even in paradise… he was still Dom… still the King of Miami… still the man every woman wanted but only one had by law.
The island sun hit different when it was kissing your skin in paradise. It was the kind of warmth that slid over your whole body making it feel like hot silk; while making you forget the chaos you left behind. Dom and I walked along the shoreline with our bare feet sinking into the wet sand while the water from the ocean occasionally played peek-a-boo with our ankles. It was only a matter of time before Dom was paying for us to get on the banana boat and for the first time in a long time, I was laughing… like, really laughing.
“Yo, Carmen, you look like you about to bust yo’ ass.” Dom grinned as he adjusted his life vest, motioning to the banana boat bobbing in the water.
“Boy, please. I’m Trinidadian. I’ve been swimming since I was two.” I smirked, stepping into the water like I wasn’t scared of falling off the damn thing.
We hopped on the banana boat with the Bahamian crew hyping us up, while they sped through the waves. I was screaming and laughing so hard, I had tears rolling down my face. Dom was behind me, holding on, yelling in my ear, “Don’t fall! I ain’t diving for you!”
All I could do was laugh because he did not play about the ocean. All he kept talking about were sharks and shit. We fell off twice and got back up both times. Afterward, we sat on the dock with fresh pineapple drinks in our hands, and the rum inside of them hit just right. The local vendor with thick dreadlocks and a welcoming smile chopped up conch for a fresh salad conch salad as he tapped the knife against the shell of the conch like he was waiting for something to pop out and when it did, he beat it.
“You have to beat the meat real good,” the Bahamian man chuckled, pounding it with a mallet. “That’s what gets the conch tender.”
Dom looked at me and raised an eyebrow. “You hear that? Beat the meat, wifey. Life lessons.”
I nearly choked on my drink. “Grow up,” I laughed, nudging him.
After that, we hit the local market and Dom let me explore while two of his shadows watched from a distance, posted in plain clothes, seemingly unbothered. You could tell they were trained to kill, but today, they were just shadows… protecting us if needed. I bought a handmade anklet from a sweet old lady who had a lot of stories to tell. Dom let me wander but never strayed far away. He watched me like I was the only thing moving in a world full of distractions. When the sun began to settle, we returned to the villa to find a private dinner set up on the beach. A candle-lit table was surrounded by rose petals andstring lights dangled from a low wooden pergola, and there was a full-course meal served to us by a private chef who disappeared after presenting the food. I had to admit; I was floored. Dom had really outdone himself.
“This you?” I asked, looking at Dom, still in a white linen shirt that was open exposing his chest as his tattoos peeked through with the chains gleaming under the moonlight.
“Nah, this us,” he replied, sliding my chair back for me like a real gentleman. Over dinner, we ate grilled lobster tails, garlic butter shrimp, and saffron rice with a little citrus glaze to it. The liquor flowed and so did the conversation.
“You didn’t have to do all this,” I whispered, as propped my hand underneath my chin.
“I did,” Dom simply replied. “I needed you to know that I appreciate you. I ain’t perfect, but I’m tryin’, Carmen.”
I nodded as the breeze swept through the curls in my hair. “I appreciate it, Dom… I really do… but I don’t want to keep feeling like I’m just filling time in your life until you’re ready.”
He looked at me, with that deep glare. “You got my heart already. It’s just been through war, and I can’t promise I’ma be perfect tomorrow. All I can promise is I’m makin’ room for you, and I’m not lettin’ nobody else in it.”
I sat with that for a second letting it marinate. “I get it,” I said. “But while you’re figuring it out, keep your extracurriculars away from me. I don’t need to know, don’t need to hear, and I damn sure won’t wait a decade for you to figure it out.”
