'A Street King's Desire' by Luna Carter is Out!

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Chapter 1 One: Desire

Please don’t kiss me. Don’t kiss me. Don’t kiss me... ew!

I cringed inwardly, squeezing my eyes shut as Cedric’s lips, wet and uninviting, made contact with my cheek again.

“You’re just so damn pretty,” he slurred, his breath reeking of expensive whiskey and peppermint.

His smile, a gaudy display of gold-plated teeth, was enough to make anyone gag. The man was a walking, talking embodiment of excess and poor taste. He oozed money, sure, but also the kind of stench no amount of cologne could mask.

I stepped back, plastering a fake smile on my face.

“And you’re too much, Cedric,” I said, my voice dripping with feigned admiration.

Too much and yet not enough at all, I mentally added.

Sucking in a breath, I turned my attention away from the trail of Cedric’s stanky ass breath stretching from his lips to my face, and instead chose to focus on the building ahead.

The Velvet Vault.

I couldn’t contain my smile as I looked up at it, almost not believing that I’d finally made it here.

The Velvet Vault was a highly exclusive, invitation only gambling hall that only opened four times a year. The exact time that it would be open and the location of the gambling event was unknown to patrons until about an hour before the call time for entrance. That was a security measure to ensure that it was kept top secret. And though every person with money in the nation wanted to be invited, it was nearly impossible to get on the list. In fact, no one really even knew the algorithm that was used to decide on the guests.

It was in passing that I heard Cedric bragging about how, after years of trying, he’d finally made it on the list. I was sitting at the bar at Cote, one of the best restaurants in Miami to catch the attention of someone with money when I heard him talking about it.

I was there looking for my next sugar daddy (who I could easily rob without giving up any sugar), but when I heard Cedric talking about his invite to The Velvet Vault, I made it clear that if he took me with him, I would be his companion for the night. Of course, I had no intentions of doing that, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Well… not physically. But there are a lot of things worse than damaged pride.

The Velvet Lounge was an underground gambling house where the rich played with their money like it grew on trees. The air was thick with the scent of expensive cigars and the clamor of glasses filled with top-shelf liquor. Dim lighting cast shadows over the faces of men whose fortunes could alter the fate of nations.

And I was there, on Cedric’s arm, a glittering accessory to his bloated ego. My eyes, sharp and assessing, roved the room, cataloguing potential targets. Each man was a walking bank, their pockets heavy with the weight of unearned privilege.

As my eyes scanned the room, I saw each man as a walking ATM. Gold watches, diamond cufflinks, the works. They were all engrossed in their own worlds, blind to the fox in their hen house.

“Girl, I can’t believe you were able to pull a stunt like this,” my ace and best friend in the world, Becky, said.

I sucked in a breath and turned to her, talking low enough so that Cedric couldn’t hear.

“I can’t either, but I’m ready for this shit. By the time I make it out of here, I’m going to be a very rich bitch,” I said, quoting my girl Nene from Rich Housewives of Atlanta.

I prayed for the day that I could wake up and live life like one of the housewives—minus the husband. The last thing I wanted was to be up under a man every single day of my life. But I would take the money on any waking day.

“Hell yeah,” Becky added, pursing her lips as she surveyed the crowd with an expert eye. “We ‘bout to kill this shit. I see Rollies and Patek Phillippe’s everywhere.”

Becky looked like the typical suburban white girl from a rich family but she was anything but that. Becky was just like me, a hustler, who got everything out the mud. We worked together when it came to hitting licks, scamming, robbing, and whatever we needed to do to make sure that we brought in more than enough money to afford our luxury lifestyles.

We had the shit down to a science. One of us would distract the mark while the other picked his pocket, using a device to scan the numbers and details of every credit or debit card in his wallet before picking off whatever money was also in it. We always replaced the wallet with all the cards in it and never took all of the money—it was how we managed to never get caught. By the time the mark realized that a bunch of random charges were hitting their cards, it was weeks later and we were long gone. These people had so much money, sometimes it took months before they realized it.

A long time ago, I used to believe in fairytales, in love and all that bullshit. Then came my ex, and like the assholes that followed, he taught me a valuable lesson—in this game, hearts are just chips on the table. So, I decided to play the game my way. Take what I want and vanish like a fuckin’ ghost. This night wasn’t going to be any different.

“Check out the gold suit on the left side,” she whispered into my ear. “He’s old school. Got a chain clip on his wallet. It’ll be easy as hell to lift it.”

I nodded, following her line of sight. “I see him.”

“I’m going to go introduce myself,” she said before cutting her eyes over to Cedric who was still gripping my arm as if I were his lifeline. “Let me know when you’re able to lose ‘you-know-who’.”

“Give me five,” I said before turning to Cedric and plastering on a smile. “Cedric, I’m going to look around at the other tables while you’re waiting to join your game.”

He twisted up his face, as if he were about to object, but I pulled away and took off before he had the chance to stop me. Though I needed him for entry, that part was over. I was finally on the inside. Time to get this shit started.

Then I saw him. A man who was like a magnet, pulling everyone’s attention. Retracing my steps, I leaned back into Cedric.

“Who’s that?” I nodded discreetly in the guy’s direction.

“That’s Mekhari Al-Rashid, the owner’s son. Stay clear of him, baby. He’s bad news,” Cedric warned, his voice a drunken slur.

I nodded, a mental note made. I agreed with Cedric, but not because of his obvious jealousy. If Mekhari was the son of the owner, I was sure that he was surrounded by at least a dozen members of security. He was a no-go zone. Too risky. I was here to play, not to get played.

I turned my attention back to the game. There was a man at the Craps table, looking my way and licking his lips. He was ripe for the picking. He was all smiles and flirts, dangling his wealth like a carrot. I moved in, my smile as seductive as a siren’s song.

“This your first time here?” I asked, batting my eyelashes.

“Yeah, trying my luck,” he replied, his eyes a little too fixated on my cleavage. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“I never say no to free alcohol,” I replied, leaning against the bar. “But I’m not easily impressed.”

“We’ll see about that,” he said, signaling the bartender.

He ordered two glasses of a vintage whiskey, and as the liquid amber filled the glasses, he raised an eyebrow at me.

“A 25-year-old Scotch. Pricey stuff. You impressed yet?”

I took a sip, letting the warmth of the liquor spread through me before replying.

“Well, it’s certainly older than some of the people in this room. But it’ll take more than an old drink to sweep me off my feet.”

His chuckle was low, amused. “Is that a challenge?”

I giggled a little, leaning back in my seat.

“Only if you’re up for it,” I shot back, matching his smirk with one of my own.

He seemed to consider this for a moment, his gaze never leaving mine.

“Alright, I accept your challenge,” he said, raising his glass to me. “And to start, maybe I should know the name of the woman who’s not easily impressed by old drinks.”

I raised an eyebrow, my lips curling into a playful smirk. “What, no detective skills? I thought men like you always had a way of finding out everything about a woman before she even steps foot into a room like this.”

He laughed, a genuine laugh that was contagious. “While that might be true for some, I prefer the old-fashioned method of asking. So, Miss...?”

“Desire,” I filled in, enjoying the way his eyes lit up at my response. “But you can call me Desi.”

“Well, Desi,” he said, his tone filled with a newfound interest. “It seems tonight is full of surprises, and you might be the most intriguing one yet.”

I wish I could say the same for you. But you’re just like all the rest.

I laughed, touching his arm lightly, the perfect distraction. My other hand expertly slipped into his pocket, retrieving his wallet. A quick swipe with the device, and it was back where it belonged, him none the wiser.

“Well, maybe I’m your good luck charm,” I teased, handing him back some chips he hadn’t even realized he’d dropped.

He chuckled, oblivious to the heist that had just taken place. But as I turned, my eyes locked in with a person I least expected: Mekhari. He was watching me, his expression unreadable. Was it suspicion? Intrigue? I couldn’t tell. His gaze was intense, almost piercing, and for a moment, I wondered if he’d seen too much.

Shaking off the unease, I slipped back to Cedric’s side, my heart racing. I couldn’t afford to get caught, especially not by someone like Mekhari Al-Rashid. I needed to stay focused, stick to the plan. But as I continued to mingle among the crowd, his steely gaze lingered heavy on my mind.

Chapter 1 Two: Mecca

My skull pounded like it’d been whacked with a fuckin’ sledgehammer as I snapped awake, thanks to the non-stop ringing of my phone, slicing through the silence of my bedroom.

Fumbling for it, I already knew it was my older brother, Aazhen, on the other line, probably about to stick his foot in my ass about something I wasn’t even aware of yet.

“Mecca, where the fuck you at, man? You were supposed to be at the club an hour ago,” Aazhen’s voice thundered through the phone, dripping with irritation and urgency.

Rubbing my eyes, the aftermath of last night’s insanity still clinging to me, I mumbled back a reply.

“Man, calm the fuck down. I already sent Riyu up there. He’s handling it.”

“Riyu ain’t a fuckin’ Al-Rashid. YOU are. He ain’t supposed to be handling shit. Nigga, that’s on you! Pops put you in charge of this event for a reason. And the only reason was because I gotta keep my hands clean so I couldn’t do it. Try not to fuck shit up like you always do.”

“Calm the fuck down, Aazhen, and pull your panties out your ass. I’ll be there.”

My voice was gravelly, weighed down by a lethal combo of sleep deprivation, weed, and one too many cups of lean the night before.

“This ain’t no fuckin’ game, Mecca. Pops handed you the reins for a reason. You gotta be on point,” Aazhen barked, his tone all brass tacks, no room for bullshit.

Sitting up, tossing off that heavy-ass comforter, my eyes caught sight of last night’s pussy—still naked as the day she was born and knocked the fuck out beside me. She was the latest intern that Aazhen had hired to work at his campaign office.

I met her one day when I went to his office to visit him. He was pulling long hours campaigning for his run for mayor. That was over three months ago and I still fucked around with her every now and then. He didn’t know that we were involved, and I planned to keep it that way.

She was good company when I was lonely, but, now, she was just another fuckin’ inconvenience.

“I’m on top of it, Aazhen. Chill,” I said, trying to sound more awake than I felt. “I’ll be there in half an hour or less.”

I knew damn well I was lying. It took me no less than an hour to get ready for anything. Especially when it came to the events at the club. I had to smoke half a blunt just to get my mind right to get through them. Even though I had money now, I didn’t grow up that way and I hated dealing with motherfuckas who hadn’t worked hard a day of their lives, which was over half of the club’s clientele.

“You better not be lying’ to me, nigga. We can’t afford to fuck up. Half the people in that room are funding my campaign. We need this,” his voice cut through the line, sharp as a switchblade.

Rolling my eyes, I was already over the lecture. “Yeah, yeah, I got it. I’m heading out now,” I muttered, cutting the call short.

Natasha stirred as I nudged her awake, her eyes fluttering open, all confused.

“Shorty, you gotta bounce,” I told her, flat, leaving no room for chit-chat. “You got two minutes.”

She scrambled to get her shit together in haste, knowing that I meant what I said after what happened the last time I had her at my place. She tried to get an attitude and refused to leave. I guess she thought it was gonna shake something in me until I hit a number on my security panel.

In less than a minute later, two men were holding her by her arms and legs, carrying her ass out the building. She knew better than to try me this time. I’d proven that I didn’t fuck around.

Getting dressed, my thoughts were all over the place. I was irritated as fuck. Aazhen always acted like Mr. Perfect, but I knew better. His life was a fuckin’ circus. Right now, he was married to a woman he couldn’t stand just because he’d gotten her pregnant, and was running to be the new mayor of the city even though half the people in it hated him. He was more disliked than a Black MAGA supporter. He needed to check himself before trying to school me.

Peeping myself in the mirror, I straightened my custom-tailored suit—shit fit like a glove. As fuckin’ usual.

“Time to get to business,” I said as I grabbed my things and prepared to leave. It was time to make some money, and the one thing I was good with was making it.

* * *

Striding into The Velvet Vault, that familiar rush of adrenaline hit me. This was my turf, the place where a nigga like me reigned supreme. Riyu was already there, looking like he’d been holding his breath.

“Everything’s smooth, Mecca,” Riyu reported, his stance rigid.

I nodded, stepping closer to the monitors that displayed every corner of The Velvet Vault.

“Show me the play-by-play. What’s this shit looking like tonight?”

Riyu, my right-hand man since we were kids running the streets of Atlanta, knew the game inside out. We’d climbed the ranks together, from hustling on corners to running one of the city’s most exclusive underground clubs.

He tapped on the screens, bringing up different views.

“The table for the big boys is on fire tonight. Lots of heavy betting. We’re looking at a big haul,” he said, pointing to a table where chips piled high like miniature skyscrapers.

I scanned the screens, my eyes taking in the sea of faces, each lost in their high-stakes games. “And security?”

“Tight as always. Won’t have no trouble tonight,” he assured me, his eyes never leaving the monitors.

That’s when I saw her. On one of the screens, there she was, weaving through the crowd with a grace that caught my eye. I didn’t know her name, but she stood out among the sea of people in the room.

Riyu continued his rundown, oblivious to my distraction. “Bar’s doing good numbers, VIP rooms are fully booked...”

But my focus was fixed on her. She was talking to some guy, her body language all charm and allure. Then, with a finesse that almost made me respect her, she lifted his wallet right from his pocket. Smooth. Real smooth.

I couldn’t help but smirk. The poor fuck she’d just played was a known asshole, someone I wouldn’t piss on if he was on fire.

Riyu, still in full business mode, hadn’t noticed my distraction. “And that’s about it. Your father would be proud, Mecca. We’re running a tight ship.”

“Good work, Riyu,” I said, but my gaze returned to the screens.

She was now with some older dude, Cedric. Typical rich guy, notorious for flaunting his wealth to attract young women. I started piecing it together—she was no ordinary club-goer; she was here on a mission, and Cedric was her ticket in.

Intrigue curled inside me like smoke. There was something about her, she was a mystery, and I found myself wanting to unravel it.

Riyu followed my gaze. “Something up?”

I shook my head, my mind already plotting. “Nah, just keeping an eye on everything.”

But the night had totally shifted for me. I wasn’t concerned about who was in the building and what they were spending. My entire focus was on her.

As Riyu talked about club logistics, my mind was already racing with possibilities. She was bold, cunning, and had just unknowingly lifted from a guy I couldn’t stand. There was a certain poetic justice in that.

“Mecca, you listening?” Riyu’s voice snapped me back to the present.

“Yeah, I got it. Keep it running tight,” I replied, but my eyes were still on the screens, watching her as she moved through the crowd with a confidence that was as alluring as it was dangerous.

Riyu raised an eyebrow, sensing my distraction. “Something I should know about?”

“Nah, it’s all good,” I said, my voice a low murmur.

As she disappeared from the camera’s view, a sense of anticipation took root in me. The night had just become a lot more interesting, but I had business to tend to.

Walking back out onto the floor, I began making my rounds. I dropped nods and handshakes, each move a subtle play of power and respect. I paused to shoot the shit with Mr. Weston, one of my father’s close friends and biggest clients with a network as deep as his pockets.

“All good at your table, Mr. Weston?” I asked, keeping it casual but in charge.

He laughed, his eyes crinkling up. “Always top-notch here, Mecca. You know how to keep us happy.”

I flashed a grin, this exchange as much a part of the game as the cards on the tables. It was all about holding the reins, keeping the power balanced.

Then I saw her and she was just as captivating in person as she was on the screen. It was her, the chick who’d been haunting my thoughts since I first laid eyes on her. She moved with a purpose, her eyes scanning the crowd with hidden expertise.

Intrigue hooked me, pulling me in. She was bold, and I had to respect that hustle. This woman wasn’t just anybody; she was playing her own game.

“Mecca, you want me to deal with her?” Riyu asked as he walked up beside me, clocking exactly where my focus was.

I shook my head, a plan simmering in my mind. “Nah, let her do her thing. I got a different play for her,” I murmured, already thinking of a few things.

Watching her weave through the crowd, anticipation lit me up. This wasn’t just some cat and mouse shit. This was something else, something that had my blood pumping.

Riyu raised an eyebrow, his face all question marks. “You sure, boss? She’s out here snatching wallets like it’s nothing.”

I couldn’t help the smirk that played on my lips. “Exactly. She’s got balls and skills. I gotta meet her. Bring her to my office.”

Riyu hesitated but then nodded, getting the unspoken rule—in The Velvet Vault, my word was law. “Aight, I’ll bring her to you. On the low.”

As Riyu moved to intercept her, my eyes stayed glued to her. She was like a shadow, invisible to the clueless, but to me, she stood out clear as day. There was something about her, and I had to get to the bottom of it.

Back in my office, I watched as Riyu steered her to the back where I was waiting. I straightened my suit, gearing up for what was more than just confronting a thief. Somehow what was about to happen felt like more than a simple conversation with a woman. This was about crossing paths with a woman who had a spirit that was just as wild as mine.

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