A LaLa Land Addiction by Ashley Antoinette Read Free Book Online Page A

relative when speaking in terms of Flint. Anything outside of the city limits was considered an upgrade. Grand Blanc was where the doctors and lawyers lived. It was only a stone’s throw away from the most violent city in America, but for some reason when you drove into its neighborhoods they felt far removed from it all. It was a hot place to do business. Why would he bring me to the burbs to do this type of business? I stick out like a sore thumb out here, Noah thought. He pulled up to a massive home and frowned. Nothing moved around the house. There were no cars in the driveway, no people in sight. It was just him. He picked the key out of his cupholder and exited the truck. He fidgeted uncomfortably and looked around cautiously before making his way to the front door. Noah was hesitant to use the key. He had no idea what was waiting for him on the other side. There was too much mystery in the air, and tension filled him as he opened the door.
    â€œYo!” he called out. He didn’t know whom he was talking to, but he just wanted to let his presence be known. The empty house only echoed back to him, and when he was sure he was alone he stepped inside. “Damn,” he whispered, marveling at the exquisite home. He had never been inside a place so grand. This was the type of neighborhood he used to come trick-or-treating in as a kid because he knew they would be giving out the big candy. It was where the rich folks lived, where they actually ran water that people could drink, and where the police actually responded. He immediately felt out of place. A hood nigga with hood swagger wasn’t even supposed to be this far out of the city limits. He wondered why Khadafi had sent him here. As he made his way through the house he noticed a bottle of Dom Perignon sitting on the mantel above the travertine fireplace. There was a red bow tied around it and a card leaned against it. He opened it.
    Every king needs a castle. I had many good years in this house. Take good care of it. Happy Birthday, Son.
    Noah smirked. “You mu’fucka,” he said with a chuckle as he realized Khadafi had known all along. Noah looked around, marveling at the details of the enormous house. Nothing had been spared. This had been Khadafi’s home once upon a time. The hood had spoken for years about how the government had seized it years ago. Khadafi had purchased it back just to give to his only son. Perhaps having his father in his life wouldn’t be that big of a challenge after all. He placed the bottle of champagne back on the mantel and then walked out. He had a birthday celebration to get to. Before he drove away he looked up at the mini-mansion. It symbolized so much. His father had been the greatest hustler the city had ever seen. Noah only hoped he could follow the same path. Get money and stay out the way, he thought. Noah didn’t need the street fame. If he was too flashy the same streets that loved him would turn on him. He wanted to make silent paper. Get in, grind to the top, and get out before the hungry niggas beneath him came for his head.
    *   *   *
    â€œYou know this ain’t my flow,” Noah said as he pulled up to the club.
    â€œWhat do you mean? This is your city, baby. These are your people. The whole city came out to celebrate your birthday with you. Just loosen up and try to have a good time. What’s the point of making money if you don’t enjoy it?” Naomi replied with a pretty pout as she leaned over the armrest and kissed his lips. “It’ll be fine. Just give it thirty minutes. If you not feeling it after that we out, a’ight?”
    â€œYeah, a’ight,” Noah replied as he stepped out of the truck and handed his keys to the valet.
    Naomi held out her hand for him as he walked around the front of the truck. Noah cleaned up nice. He looked like new money as he entered the club, but he was easily outshined by his lady. The short,