Watch the Throne (Urban) | Book 2

Chapter 4

Amber

I sat at the head of my empty dining room table in my empty dining room, perplexed about how late King was to our dinner, but even more disturbed about how Fantasy didn't have our meal prepared on time. I rolled my eyes as I looked down at the time. 8:15. King was over an hour late, something that was completely out of his character.

I tapped my nails against the table growing irritated as each minute ticked by. I was beyond irritated by this debacle of a dinner, but I was even more irritated that I found out Heiress had disappeared from the club. I purposely locked her in a closet without any food or water in hopes that somebody would find her while she's on her last leg, bring her back and throw her ass to the next nigga that's willing to pay to fuck her. But, of course, my plan failed.

Instead, I got a call saying they couldn't find her. They checked the cameras and didn't see her leave out and there was no sign of her escaping from the room, so it's no telling where she went. But she couldn't have gotten far though. I mean, she's a heroine addict for crying out loud. She's probably somewhere shooting that shit through her veins. With as much shit as she has pumping through her veins, it's no way she'll ever be able to live a normal life again and I made sure of it when I first started feeding her addiction.

After everything she put me through all of those years ago, just feeding her addiction should be the least of her concerns. Q and I should've killed her years ago when we killed Carmelo, Nova and the rest of his pathetic little family. But Q wanted to spare her because he had hopes of freeing her one day. Fortunately, he was killed before he had the opportunity to because I would've left him if he bought that bitch into our home and gave her her old life back.

She didn't deserve to be born into Q's family. She's so ungrateful and never appreciated anything he gave her. He gave her life! He fed her, clothed her and gave her anything she ever wanted, yet she wanted to run after the first broke hood nigga that came into her life. It disgusts me how she ran after Carmelo and dropped her panties for him. She should've done what I did and faked my death and ran to the hills after being with his ass.

Quentin was so much better to me than Carmelo ever was. Even in his later years, Quentin always took care of me and made sure King and I were good. I mean, at times, he put King on a higher pedestal than me. He'd give King more. Hell, he'd walk around in better clothes than me at times but that was because he was the rightful heir to the throne and Quentin was grooming him to take his position by getting him used to the lavish lifestyle we live, but still being able to keep up with the demands of the business and the club.

I perked up when I heard the sound of chimes ringing through the house, indicating that someone was at the front door. I knew it was King and I wasn't disappointed when he made his grand entrance into the dining room.

"Mama, we gotta talk."

I was taken aback by the tone of his voice. "Hello to you too, son. It's nice of you to finally show up hours later."

He took a deep breath and plopped down in the seat beside me. "What's up, Mama? I'm sorry about how I just came in here so late, but I got some shit going on I gotta talk to you about. I need some help."

"With?" I asked. I really didn't want to concern myself about what he had going on because I had my own agenda for tonight's dinner. But I at least had to pretend to care since he's my son after all.

"What's up with H? Like where did she come from, you know? She's been up in that club for as long as I can remember and I've seen bitches come and go, but she's always been there. Like, what's up with her?"

"Why do you care? She's a filthy piece of trash just like the rest of those bitches that work in the club. They're whores, son. Why can't you get that through your thick skull? Me and your Grandpa have been telling you that for years, but you always seem to latch on to these low down, bottom of the barrel whores. The other ones leave because they're too strung out to make money off of, so I let them go. God knows where they go once they leave the club, but it's none of your concern anyways. You need to be concerned about that bitch H going missing."