Chapter 8

Author note: wow, 14000+ people have viewed this story ..that's crazy.

I think we should work on some ground rules updating everyday is going to be the goal as I want to really finish writing this story. I'm having fun with it. I hope you're also enjoying. So there's going to be a target - comments basically, then if the target is met then I post a chapter that day. How's that? Let me know in the comments.

Let me know your thoughts on the story as well. You can just go to the comments now and comment on what you think of the story 💕

- much love, S Harrison

Chapter 8

The afternoon sun was beginning to dip. Sibongile had dragged me to this spot, a trendy shipping-container lounge that served the best mocktails and played deep house music at a volume that allowed for actual conversation.

" We got another spinning event soon, you're coming." Said Sips.

"Do I have a choice?"

"No," she chuckled.

"So," Sibongile said, leaning back in her chair and eyeing me over the rim of her glass. "The 'Situation' is official, then? You and the King of the Gusheshe?"

I felt the heat rise to my neck. "We're... trying it out. "

Sibongile shook her head, a look of genuine disbelief crossing her face. "I have to be honest, Ompie—I've known Zuko Msingo by reputation since I was in high school. He's never been the 'relationship' type. If he's really settling down for you... maybe the guy actually has changed."

"He has, I think." I whispered, thinking of the way he'd looked at me in the car.

"Well," Sibongile leaned in, her eyes dancing with a sudden, mischievous glint. "If he's treating you like a queen in the streets, I can only imagine how he is in the sheets. I've heard rumors, girl. They say Zuko is a beast. Big dick and all. Absolute fire."

I nearly choked on my drink, shifting uncomfortably in the plastic chair. The plastic felt suddenly sticky against my skin. "Sibo! Please."

She barked a laugh, pointing a finger at me. "Oh, look at that face! Don't tell me... has it happened?"

"No!" I blurted out, a little too loudly. A few people at the next table glanced over, and I lowered my voice to a frantic hiss. "No. Of course not. Things are new. We've only just... we've only kissed. That's it."

The truth was, I hadn't let my mind go there. I was still trying to navigate the feeling of his hand in mine and the idea of anything more felt like a leap off a skyscraper without a parachute.

"And what are you waiting for?" Sibongile asked, her tone shifting from teasing to surprisingly practical. "Look, I know you're the 'good girl,' but you're a woman now, Ompie. And sex? With someone you actually like? It's explosive, usually."

She leaned closer, her voice dropping as she talked about Shakes. "With me and Shakes... it's like fireworks every time. It's just in the way he goes deep in me. "

I looked down at my lap. I was nineteen, but in this conversation, I felt like I was five.

"I'm not ready for that," I whispered. "I don't think I'll ever be ready for 'explosive'."

Sibongile's expression softened, and she reached across the table to squeeze my hand. "Hey, there's no rush. But when it happens because it *will* happen, because that man looks at you like you're his last meal, you need to be smart. "

She gave me a pointed look. "Always use a condom. Every. Single. Time. I'm far too young and far too cute to be anyone's auntie right now, okay? And pro tip: pee right after. Trust me on that one. It saves you a lot of trouble."

I burst out laughing, the tension breaking just enough for me to breathe. "Auntie Sibongile? Yeah, that doesn't fit your aesthetic at all."

"Exactly," she grinned, clinking her glass against mine. "Keep your head in the books and your heart protected, Ompie. But don't be so afraid of the fire that you never get warm."

I smiled back, but as the music swelled.

ZUKO POV

I adjusted the collar of my jacket, keeping my head low as I pushed through the throng of sweating bodies at the club, at Amanda's club.

Amanda saw me before I even cleared the VIP section. She was leaning against the velvet rope, a champagne flute dangling from her fingers, her eyes catching mine.

"Zuko," she purred over the music, stepping into my space. She leaned in, her lips grazing the shell of my ear. "I was beginning to think you'd stood me up. Do you know how hard it is to work a room when I'm busy waiting for my favorite delivery boy?"

I pulled back. "I'm not a delivery boy, Amanda. And the crowd is loud enough tonight. Don't make it worse. Get this done."

She laughed, "Still so grumpy. Come on. My office. Let's get the unpleasantness out of the way so we can get to the fun part."

Her office was made of glass and steel, soundproofed enough that the thumping bass faded into he background. As the door clicked shut, closed the gap between us. Her hands slid up my chest, her thumbs tracing the line of my jaw, her eyes searching mine.

"You look tired," she whispered, her fingers trailing down to the buttons of my shirt. "Let me take the edge off."

I caught her wrists, and steered her back toward her desk. "Business first. I'm in a hurry."

She pouted as she circled behind her desk, reaching down to unlatch a briefcase. She flipped it open, revealing stacks of cash. "Always so transactional. It's a wonder I keep letting you launder your filth through my accounts."

"You keep letting me because you get twenty-five percent of the cut." I retorted, moving to the desk to start the count.

"Where the cocaine?" She asked. I took the package from my pocket. She took it and checked.

She slid a sleek, black bag across the mahogany. "More will come in a few days."

"The club is tight on liquidity this quarter, Zuko. I need you to speed up the pills, the powders—your boys are lagging."

I paused, counting the cash with efficient, practiced fingers. "They're working it. It's a delicate market right now. You want speed? You get sloppy. You get sloppy, the police show up. You want that?"

"I want the money. I'm starting to doubt if you're as reliable as you used to be."

I stopped dead, my hands hovering over the cash. I looked up, cold enough to freeze the air in the room. "Doubt me? After three years of keeping this place afloat while you play queen of the nightlife? Have I ever disappointed you?"

She smiled, a slow, predatory curve of the lips, and began to walk around the desk. She stopped an inch from me, her hand resting on my hip. "Never. That's why I find it so hard to believe you're being this difficult. Is it really true, then? The rumors?"

I stiffened. "I don't know what rumors you're talking about."

"The church girl," she cooed. "Is that where you're running off to? To find salvation in the pews?"

"That's none of your business," I said, my voice dropping to a gravelly snarl. "We aren't a thing, Amanda. Never were. We never confirmed anything. I'm trying to be a decent man for once in my life, I've found the right girl for me, is that too hard to comprehend ? "

Amanda threw her head back and laughed, a shrill, sharp sound that echoed off the glass walls. "A decent man? Zuko, look at yourself. You're a wreck. You won't even let me stay over when we have sex. We fuck, and you practically throw me out the door. You aren't a decent man, you're just a broken one."

She stepped even closer, her eyes blazing with a mix of jealousy and spite. "Omphile wouldn't understand a single thing about the life you lead. She wouldn't even look at you if she knew who you really were."

The air in the room didn't just feel tight. I stepped into her space, looming over her until she was forced to look up, trapped between me and the desk.

"How do you know her name?" My voice was a low.

She didn't flinch, though a flicker of caution crossed her eyes. "You forget, Zuko. I have ears everywhere. Does she know, Zuko? Does your precious little saint know about the blood you've spilled in this city?"

I grabbed the edge of the desk, leaning in until we were nose-to-nose. My heart was hammering for the girl who lived in a world of light I had no business touching.

"Listen to me, and listen well," I hissed, my eyes boring into hers. "You don't walk near her. You don't talk to her. And if you even think about touching her, you'll find out exactly who I am. You have no idea what I'm capable of when someone threatens what's mine."

She looked at me, her bravado faltering, replaced by a dark, stinging realization. She knew. She knew I meant every word.

I shoved away from the desk, grabbing the bag of cash off the floor and turning for the door.

"You're making a mistake, Zuko, I'm the better choice than her," she called out, her voice trembling slightly. "A church girl won't be able to hold you together. She'll break just like everything else."