Page 22 of The Millionaire Mortician
He walked over as cool as ever with keys in his hand and a smirk tugging at his lips. “This is yours, shorty. Congratulations, baby. You earned it,” he announced.
The entire crowd erupted with claps, cheers, and screams, as if they were at a concert. Talina damn near fainted as she got closer to see the inside.
I covered my mouth as tears came rushing out once more, but heavier that time. “Milan, you didn’t?—”
He cut me off, pressing the keys into my hand. “But I did. I wanted you to pull up to your dream the way you’re supposed to — like a boss.”
My heart exploded right there. I jumped into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist like I didn’t care who was watching. Thank God I had on a jumpsuit and not a dress.Cameras flashed while I heard people yelling, “Goals!” and “That’s real love right there!” but I didn’t pay them much mind. It was just Milan and me in that moment.
When I slid into that G-Wagon, the leather still smelled brand new, while the screen lit up like a spaceship. I had to pinch myself. This was bigger than me and definitely put my little white Audi to shame. As I checked it out, I felt it was proof that hard work, vision, and a man who truly has your back could change everything.
The restof the day was a blur of love, laughter, and success. By the time we closed up that night, the balloons had become half-deflated, the champagne bottles were empty, and my voice was gone from talking to everyone. I was exhausted but glowing.
On the drive home, Milan kept one hand on the wheel, the other holding mine. I leaned back against the seat of my brand-new Benz, smiling so hard my cheeks hurt.
“Babe,” I whispered, squeezing his hand, “today was the best day of my life.”
He glanced at me with that quiet confidence of his. “Nah, this is just the first one. Wait ‘til you see what’s next.”
After all that he’d already done, there was no other choice but for me to believe his words.
Iwoke up to the sound of the front door alarm briefly going off, so I immediately reached for my phone to check the cameras. That’s when I saw Daija walking to her car. It was only seven-thirty in the morning.
The bed felt lighter and emptier, and when I reached across, all I felt was the cool side of the sheets where Daija had been. When I passed my hand, I felt a piece of paper. It read:
Good morning, my love,
I’m off to an early start. I have a client first thing this morning and want to be prepared. I hope you have a great day. Think about me because you’ll be on my mind. I love you.
P.S. I made dinner reservations at Del Friscos at eight p.m. See you later.
-Dai
Damn, this is new, I thought.
I laid there for a second, staring up at the high ceiling. I wasn’t used to her moving like that — out the door before I even blinked the sleep out of my eyes. For the past year, I’d wake up to her asking me if I wanted breakfast, doing little things that reminded me she was right there. Now she had her own spot to run, a whole business that demanded her time.
Although I was happy for her, it was something I had to get used to. Growth never came without change. Adjustments needed to be made on both ends.
Now that Daija’s spot was officially open for business, that was one worry out of the way. Dealing with that, my own business, keeping an eye on Dave, and coming up with a solid business proposal for the Venezuelan connect had my mind in a scramble.
I rolled out of bed, stretched, and hit the bathroom to wash my face, brush my teeth, and trim the beard just enough to keep it sharp. Quickly hopping in the shower and washing my skin, I was out in no time. I came out and got into my suit, double-checking myself in the mirror, then made my way downstairs.
Usually, as soon as I opened the bedroom door, the smell of food would slap me in the face, but that day was different. I just heard movement from Nadia cleaning as I descended the stairs.
“Mr. Marcano, would you like breakfast?” Nadia asked as soon as she saw me.
I shook my head. “Nah, I’m good. Thanks.”
That was Daija’s thing, but I guess it was going to be a Nadia thing moving forward when I did wake up hungry.
Grabbing my phone, wallet, and keys, I exited the house. Looking across the street, I looked at Don’s SUV. Once I saw him flash his high beams three times, I knew it was clear to go to my whip. I made my way to my Benz truck — the same one I had justbought Daija — hopped in, started it up, and then easily pulled out of my parking spot with Don trailing behind me.
The ride to the funeral home was routine, but my mind wasn’t. Mallo’s words kept circling in my head. His stepping out to move to the west, and leaving that position wide open, was a surprise. As a distributor, a direct line to Venezuela would’ve been an epic move. It wasn’t just weight we were talking about. It was a whole seat at the table, and seats like that didn’t stay empty for long.
If Maverick and I didn’t make the right move, someone else would. The wrong somebody in that position could throw everything off-balance. We had always moved cleanly, steadily, and without drawing too much noise. That’s why we lasted as long as we did. If Frost or some other reckless nigga filled that gap, everything we built could get shaky.
With my thoughts swarming me, I didn’t notice I had arrived at the funeral home. Opening the gate, I pulled in and parked directly in my spot, while Don parked in his. Before I could properly get out of the truck, Parys came rushing out with his iPad in hand and a mouthful to say.
