Page 88 of Treason's Temptation
“I don’t know.”
Daige seemed like an intentional woman. Even if Navie didn’t notice, it was a warning that made me glad I brought my gun. Inside the car, I tucked it under the seat and pulled into the street.
“Every time Carter was ready to write a check, Tyra came with another fuckin’ question,” Navie complained, plugging in the address Tyra sent.
“Welcome to marriage. Wives run the show.”
“I’m surprised a romantic like yourself would say something so pessimistic. I must be rubbing off on you.” Navie blushed at the idea of turning my heart cold.
Although I enjoyed her smile, I had to burst her bubble.
“Men are logical. We focus on facts, but some shit in life comes down to discernment most men aren’t blessed with. That’s where y’all come in,Pippen.”
“I’m glad you recognize we’re superior.”
Men loved to convince themselves they were the ones running things, but a wise man knew he didn’t run shit at all. It was the women pulling the strings we didn’t even see.
“A smart man knows a woman’s power multiplies when he does his job right.” I winked, stealing a glance at Navie as she did her best avoidant act.
“Do your jobrighttonight, and get us this money,” she retorted.
I turned up the music and drove to a private, upscale club called Velour. It didn’t look like any club Ward and I used to hit. Back then, we didn’t have enough money or cache to get into a place like this.
But the second we crossed the threshold, it was clear Velour wasn’t just a club, and Daige’s warning made sense. Dim lights washed everything in red. Everywhere I looked, there was silk and lace, rope and restraints, masks gleaming under chandeliers. A woman straddled a man in an open booth, as if it were part of the décor. Another had her wrists bound, head tilted back in bliss while someone whispered against her throat.
We should’ve followed Daige and Abdul’s lead and taken our asses home too. Instead, Navie stopped short, heels clicking to a halt. For once, she didn’t have words. Instead, her eyes flicked wide then narrowed, trying to reel her expression under control.
Tearing her eyes from the dancers stripping, they traveled across the room to Tyra and Carter, lounging on a low velvet couch as if they owned the place. Tyra’s dress clung to every curve, slit high up her thigh, while Carter had his arm draped lazily across the back of the couch, much more relaxed than he was at the game.
“Hey girl!” Tyra jumped up, greeting Navie with that feline grin that made my jaw tighten.
Carter extended a firm handshake. “Glad you made it,” he said, like we’d just stepped into a cocktail party instead of the sex-fueled den we were now standing in.
I gave a short nod, Tyra’s eyes sparkling as she circled Navie like a cat.
“What are you guys drinking?” Tyra asked, signaling the waiter.
“We’re not,” I replied smoothly, letting the edge of my tone land.
Carter chuckled, “Relax. No one’s asking you to participate. Velour’s about exploration. Watching, learning, maybe tasting, if curiosity strikes.”
“I appreciate the interest. But we’re here to talk business,” I said smoothly, letting a sliver of edge creep into my tone.
Tyra didn’t back down. If anything, she leaned closer, her fingers brushing the edge of Navie’s hand. “Business, yes, but you two are far too interesting to ignore. I like to explore . . . ideas, perspectives, people.”
“Treason’s ideas will change the way people think about this city, shift perspectives, and actually get things done.”
Tyra’s eyes flicked between us, the predatory smirk tugging at her lips. “I’m intrigued,” she said, voice low, sultry. “This city needs change, and you seem like the man for the job. It doesn’t hurt that you’re handsome. I hear some people have reservations about backing your campaign. I’ve heard rumblings about your mother’s past.”
“Her decisions are hers. That has nothing to do with me and even less to do with Treason,” Navie defended.
“Relax, I’m not most people. I find that… intriguing. Most shy away from a challenge like this. I like someone who sees opportunity where others see risk.”
Carter, seated beside her, chuckled, clearly enjoying his wife’s obvious admiration for us, even if it was part game, part genuine intrigue.
I let my own smirk play on my lips, voice calm but edged with amusement. “It’s all about perspective. Challenges are just opportunities in disguise.”
Before we could respond, a man in a crisp suit appeared at their side, whispering something into Carter’s ear. “Looks like someone needs us for a moment,” he announced, standing up, and Tyra joined him.
