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Story: The Love of Priest 2

Jazzy watched as Avery admired the family portrait before sitting it back on the desk to be on full display as if she were proud of it. "That’s a lot harder than you think," she stated, clearing her throat. "You're young. You haven't taken vows, you have no children, you have a full life ahead of you. You aren't stuck."

Jazzy wanted to pity Avery, but she couldn't bring herself to do so. Avery sounded so much like her mother, Sylvia, that it began to make her physically feel sick to her stomach. "Listen, I can't want it more than you do, but I can help," she offered before looking over her shoulder at J'Ru and Kaymen who remained outside of the office waiting for the ladies to wrap up their personal drama so they could get to business. "The same thing you do for Cameron and that club, I need you to do it for me and me solely?—"

"I can't just stop doing business for him," Avery quickly interjected.

"You let me handle that. All you have to do is your job right and don't fuck up my numbers. You'll get your cut, and you can find your way with your child. I'm not here to force your hand, but this the best deal you have coming your way, unless you like dealing with a nigga like Cameron," Jazzlyn proposed the deal. She was sure Avery was going to need a lot more than just money to get away from Cameron, but that would be a great start. Based on the amount of control Cameron seemed to have over Avery, she wouldn't have been surprised if he controlled her money as well. Pulling in money that he would have no access to would begin the process of her finding her own way out.

Avery sat in her seat, contemplating whether she should take Jazzy's offer. She talked a good talk, but what if Cameron found out? Cameron knew exactly what would bring Avery to herknees: their daughter Dreux. As soon as he found out she was going against him, he was going to fight tooth and nail to take Dreux away from her. It would be an easy win for him legally since her medical history of battling depression and the manic episodes he induced from his constant manipulation were all documented and accessible to be used against her in court. He always threatened her with such, and she knew Cameron would do it if she even let the thought of leaving him cross her mind.

Avery pursed her lips as she shamefully shook her head, declining Jazzy's offer. "I can't lose my daughter," she throated out. Avery wasn't willing to sacrifice her child.

Jazzy let out a deep sigh. "Listen, I ain’t saying money can fix all the issues in the world, but you'll be more than okay. You'll be able to get the best of the best to represent you in this divorce and custody battle. You have to not only want better for yourself, but your child as well. Just let me help you," Jazzlyn persisted.

As Avery’s eyes bore into her, she could sense genuine compassion. It was the first time in many years that she felt that from anyone. Cameron had turned her into a weak individual who thought no one cared about her. Sitting across from the young lady who she only knew through Cameron's infidelity, Avery felt more compassion than she had ever felt from her husband.

A moment of silence plunged over the room as Avery took time to reconsider the proposition. Mustering up the strength, she found the courage to nod her head. "I'll do it," she agreed, causing an instant state of relief to wash over both her and Jazzy.

Proud that Avery was taking the first steps to free herself from Cameron, Jazzlyn shot her a smile. "You won't regret it," she asserted. Navigating to the door, Jazzlyn retrieved J'Ru and Kaymen, motioning for them to join them in the office.

"Y'all good?" Kaymen raised a brow as he shifted his eyes between both women.

Jazzlyn nodded her head. "We're good.”

"Check this out. I don't really wanna know what was discussed between the two of you. I just wanna know if we're getting in business with the right person. If you fuck this up, you're gonna have more than some petty little drama over some bum-ass nigga at your doorstep," J'Ru threatened. "Before you handle any of my paper, I'm gone need some collateral,” he told Avery just as Kaymen picked up the family portrait that remained on her desk. Both Avery and Jazzy watched as Kaymen extracted his phone from his back pocket, taking a quick photo of the framed portrait.

"You understand, right?" Kaymen asked as he returned the portrait to Avery's desk.

Avery nodded her head. "I understand," she nervously throated out.

"We'll set something up so you will know how much you'll be working with. We'll also get in touch with you about your cut. We don't have to worry about you stealing from us, right?" Kaymen raised a brow at Avery, who shook her head.

"Bet," Kaymen concluded. "Pleasure doing business with you." He extended his hand for Avery to shake.

"Likewise." Avery shook his hand, then transitioned to shaking J'Ru's hand.

Jazzy gave Avery a light yet encouraging head nod. This was Avery’s start of reclaiming her life, and ironically, it was gifted to her by one of her husband's mistresses.

Avery was ending her agonizing cycle of Cameron Combs.

Chapter Twenty

Surrounded by a stack of printed drafts of the first issue of her magazine, Britain let out a light sigh. She was a bit overwhelmed emotionally after enduring her first session with Havani, so she had begun over working herself in an effort to think less about how she was feeling.

She sat with her legs tucked underneath her while her hands rested on her lap as she looked over the different pages that were lined up on the floor of the bedroom she shared with Priest. She managed to work her way up to their bedroom from the study because she just didn't have enough space down there to lay out all the pages she completed. Truth be told, she had worked her ass off over the years to cultivate different stories and keep “Humans of New York” alive past college. Seeing her work semi-finalized before her felt revitalizing, and it only made her want to do the same thing over and over again.

Britain managed to create a 98-page issue of a magazine on her own without outsourcing any other journalist or photographer. She sat down for every interview and her camera captured every photo, and that was what made it so real and raw. She was hoping that eventually she would find the right publishing house that would understand her vision. Of course,when the magazine began to grow bigger than life itself, she would have to seek help from others, but for right now, she was okay with taking as much time as she needed and doing all the work by herself. Creating alone was far more therapeutic for her.

As she was looking over the pages and making sure they were ordered correctly, she heard the sound of the bedroom door. Her orbs drifted up from the pages and onto Priest, who was busy having a conversation on the phone.

"P, watch your step," she called out for his attention a little too late, and he unknowingly ended up planting his Prada sneaker right in the center of one of the portraits she was using for her magazine.

Despite being so invested in the conversation he was having over the phone, he realized what he had done, which caused him to quickly lift his foot off the portrait. He pulled the phone away from his ear, shooting Britain an apologetic look.

"My fault. I thought you were working downstairs in the study," he apologized while crouching down to grab the portrait so he could hand it over to her.

Britain inspected the portrait with a sigh once she saw his shoe print had tarnished it. Luckily, it was a draft, but it still annoyed her immensely since she was such a perfectionist. She waved him off, signaling that he was fine and that he should continue his phone conversation.

Now paying much more attention, he cautiously made his way toward the other side of the bedroom to the gliding doors of the balcony that overlooked the land in the rear of their estate. He shut the door behind him so he could continue his phone conversation in private.