TOO ICY

💎 TWENTY- THREE / FAMILY IS FAMILY

"You look...wow."

K.O stared at Isis with wonderment dancing in his eyes. Those sultry brown sables were practically sparkling as they ran over the beauty sauntering closer, rewarding a stunned KO with her proximity.

Isis smiled, coyly. It wasn't an act. Mr. Kindred was in fact, staring at her so intensely, if they'd met a few years earlier, he would for sure be on her list. Unfortunately, she had enough trouble in the love department, and fucking the first contact she made as a representation of her family wasn't a good look.

So, she kept it professional. Flashed a friendly smile his way and offered him half of a hug - not a full one - depriving him of a few lingered moments to smell her sweet and expensive perfume.

"You look nice as well, Mr. Owens," she complimented.

Kindred's smile was striking against his deep skin.

"Please. Call me Kin. I have to deal with the formalities enough at work," he said, offering his arm for her to secure hers around as they stepped into the Black and White affair.

"You are at work, no?" she teased, a perfectly arched eyebrow spiking. "This is an event curated by the building you work in, you're wearing the same attire as you do at work, and I just so happen to also be discussing work with you as well. You're practically working overtime."

A witty smile spread across her face as Kindred narrowed his eyes at her.

"You're right about all of those things. However, you forgot one thing."
He lifted his pointed finger.

"And what's that?"

"I never have a woman as beautiful as you, at work. At home either."

Isis rolled her eyes over, playfully. Her lips bunched into the corner of her mouth.

"Oh please! Am I supposed to believe that the Mayor of Las Vegas, a single Black man in his mid thirties, with clean fingernails and matching socks, who is the running candidate for Senator of Nevada, doesn't have beautiful women around him every day?" she challenged.

Kindred's feet came to a slow halt as they entered the dining room filled with people of echelon and influence that Isis couldn't identify if her life depended on it. And it did. Now that she was expecting to fill the shoes of her mother, an underground mogul, it was imperative that she knew the whos whos.

Those who would be a blessing to their business, and those who would be a detriment. The dark side of those plastered on America's TV's as judges, policemen, doctors, politicians, all those motherfuckers who pretended to be morally correct in a world where that shit was bankrupt. Her job was to collect the currency of their evil souls. Starting with Mr. KO.

"Having basic hygiene, a job, and the ability to pair two navy blue socks together seems like the bare minimum to score a woman of your caliber, correct?"

Her caliber.

That had to be the first time that anyone had ever placed Isis into a category aligned with opulence. She hadn't grown up in luxury, but had arrived in it as if it was waiting for her all along. Waiting for her to break away from the gutter she was thrown into.

She smiled, simply, at that remark. She chose not to answer it, because there was no real answer to a question like that. Her dating life hadn't ever come with requirements, only transactions. Just as the relationship that Mr. KO was attempting to create. He needed drugs. Her family supplied them. So even him, in all of his glory, couldn't deliver her from her past dalliances rooted in the dark.

"Mayor Owens, may I get a picture of you and your lovely date?"

A photographer approached, already flashing a few off guards before Kindred could agree. Isis wanted to flee, but the grip he had on her was firm - possessive even. She had no choice but to smile for the photo, then excuse herself to use the bathroom while Kindred began to mingle with a few of his associates.