Page 6 of A Million Boss Kisses

CHAPTER TWO

Marissa Bentley

A Year Later

S tepping out of my Bentley Bentayga, I took a deep breath, held my head up high and strutted into the office building.

I was already counting down the hours until my flight back to Tampa Sunday morning.

My pajamas and bed were already calling my name.

I’d only stepped foot back in Miami two hours ago, but this city gave me too many harsh memories of a marriage that was inauthentic.

After that shit show at the family reunion, I took some time to sulk in my feelings at a hotel with Karina, and then I filed for divorce.

The last twelve months were full of mixed emotions.

My family was irrevocably damaged, my heart was shattered, and I didn’t think I’d ever love again.

I loathed Quinten for what he had done behind my back for the earlier part of our relationship.

Still, after he was served with divorce papers, he decided that he wasn’t going to be a present father either, and that eviscerated the slither of respect I had for him.

Although our boys were older, they still expected Quinten to show up the way he always had.

Quincy had spent the last year playing college baseball on a scholarship his father helped him secure, and Quinten couldn’t even be bothered to attend a single game.

He was bitter about the divorce, upset that I chose to relocate to Tampa, and since Lil Q’s girlfriend lived there, and his father was being a dickhead, he decided to come live with me.

Lil Q was in his senior year of high school, and if Quinten didn’t pull his head out of his ass and show up for prom and graduation, I might catch a murder charge.

“Good morning, Mrs. Bentley, Alexandria is waiting for you,” the receptionist greeted me with a smile on her face.

Her words seared through my eardrums like acid.

That was the number one reason that I hated coming back to Miami.

Everybody knew me as Quinten’s wife. I couldn’t go anywhere without someone asking me where my husband was.

Just like I handled the receptionist, I buried my inner thoughts and kept it cute.

All I really wanted to do was yell, “Don’t ask me about no nigga you don’t see me with!

” But then I would just be viewed as another unhinged, bitter divorcée.

The receptionist hopped to her feet and led me down the hallway. After a brief knock, Alexandria opened her office door and waved her hand for me to enter.

“Can I get you anything to drink, Mrs. Bentley?” The receptionist smiled.

“I apologize about that, Marissa. Chelsea is brand new,” Alexandria stated, glancing from me to Chelsea, who was turning beet red in the face. “Please remember to check the notes before appointments as we always notate what the client would like to be addressed as.”

“My apologies, Marissa,” she faltered.

“You’re fine, honey,” I lied because she really disturbed my spirits.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” She posed the question again.

“I’m fine,” I smiled.

“I apologize about that. I can assure you that won’t happen again,” Alexandria apologized again as Chelsea closed the office door to give us privacy.

“I appreciate that.”

“I’m glad you decided to make an impromptu meeting while you were in town.

Quinten’s lawyer replied to the proposal for child support for the one minor child, the house, reimbursement for college apartment paid for Quincy, and alimony.

According to his lawyer, you are not entitled to alimony or any of the properties besides the property in Key West in your name, as you signed a prenuptial agreement. ”

“A prenuptial agreement?!” I spluttered, hopping to my feet. “Pull it up, let me see it. I didn’t sign a prenup, we don’t even believe in those where I come from…”

I caught myself before I said something I couldn’t take back.

Coming from where I come from, marriage was a blood-in, blood-out type of agreement.

Divorce was taboo, and I was already going against the grain by filing for divorce.

That’s why I hadn’t told anyone in my family, and my boys were sworn to secrecy.

Karina didn’t even know I filed for divorce from Quinten.

The rules of the game that I was born into could kiss my ass.

Since the age of eighteen, I didn’t want shit to do with the mafia lifestyle, and Quinten didn’t either; that was how we formed a bond.

He was my way out of Jacksonville since I couldn’t escape the life entirely.

There was no way my uncle would let me leave the city without the protection of another family by way of marriage.

Now, I needed Alexandria to free me from this toxic marriage because at my big age, I could do whatever the fuck I wanted to do.

Last time I saw Quinten, his sad ass was moping around the house we created our family in, with his shoulder wrapped in gauze from where I stabbed him with a shard of glass.

Two months had passed since the family reunion, and living out of Karina’s suitcase and the mall could only last for so long.

I saw his stupid ass sitting at the counter, drinking brown liquor from a glass, staring into space until I came into view.

He jumped from the stool, making a beeline in my direction.

“Marissa, please let me explain,” he reached for me and I yanked away.

“Don’t fucking touch me! You’ll never touch me again in your life!” I spat, doing my best to keep my anger in check. I’d shed enough tears to fill the Nile River and when I woke up this morning, I promised that he’d never get another tear out of me. He wasn’t worth it.

Without uttering a word I strutted towards the stairs.

I heard his house shoes clacking behind me, and I focused on my breathing, telling myself to grab my essentials and get the fuck on.

After ascending the stairs, I went into the master bedroom and grabbed my suitcases.

Quinten wrapped his arms around me, causing the suitcases to tumble to the floor.

“Get off of me,” I gritted.

“No, you not packing shit. We about to sit down and work this shit out! I let you get away with being away from the house for two months, but that shit is over with. I fucked up and I’m sorry.”

After failing at freeing myself from his grasp, I reached up to elbow the bandaged area.

“AGHHHHHHHHH!” He raged, dropping my ass in the middle of our bedroom floor.

Blood seeped through his bandage, and he glared at me like a fucking demon.

I matched his energy, ready to pounce on that same spot if that nigga decided to get froggy.

The same reason I fell in love with Quinten was probably why I was in this situation.

Maybe I should’ve chosen a nigga who was scared of my uncle.

Instead, I chose the one who wasn’t afraid to endure a week of torture from his father and his men, then turn around and take my virginity in my uncle’s house while he slept on the other side of the house.

“Dad, you alright?” I heard Lil Q calling from beyond the door.

He bent the corner, and I took my eyes off my husband to face my son, who I’d only seen once since I took off.

Last week, we all took a trip to Tampa as a family to drop Quincy off at college.

No matter how angry I was with their father, that wouldn’t stop me from making that trip.

We were cordial throughout that entire weekend, making sure Quincy got settled into his new apartment, but the moment we got back to Miami, it was fuck Quinten again.

From the perplexed expression on Lil Q’s face, I knew he didn’t know what the hell to do.

I didn’t either. My words were caught in my throat as Quinten stumbled over to the bed.

Since I couldn’t let the nigga bleed out in front of our son, I called Damon and he got the doctor to come over.

In the midst of Quinten getting patched up, I packed my shit and found all of my legal documents that I had in the house.

“Where the fuck you going, Marissa?” His voice was feral.

“I’m for real, Quinten. We can’t work this shit out and I really don’t care what happens next. I’ll die before I pretend to be happy next to a nigga as disrespectful as you!”

The doctor jabbed the surgical needle into his arm, and Quinten winced in pain, making my cold heart swell.

“I been taking care of Lil Q by myself for two whole months now. You act like I don’t have shit to do and the boy don’t need to be left in the house to his own devices while I get back out here. ”

“Then leave the house and give me some space like I already asked you!” I argued.

“Fuck no! You need to come home.”

Rolling my eyes, I went back to the stairs. “Lil Q!” I shouted from the bottom of the stairs.

Quinten gulped straight from the D’Ussee bottle, tossing it back like it was water.

His eyes remained locked on me, burning with a mix of pain and something darker, while the doctor stitched him up without a word.

The pain he was enduring couldn’t compare to the constant ache in my heart I’d had over the last two weeks.

“Wassup ma?”

“Come on. You going to come stay with me,” I informed him.

Lil Q hesitantly nodded his head then dashed towards his room.

I stood unbothered while Quinten’s eyes pierced me, heavy and unrelenting, but I wasn’t impressed.

Lil Q was descending the stairs with a duffle bag in one hand and his Xbox in the other, his gaming headphones resting on top of his head.

“If you walk out that door don’t call me for shit, Marissa,” he snarled.

His words didn’t move me. I continued out the door with Lil Q right behind me.

I hated that went down in front of him, and that was a part of the reason why I couldn’t keep doing this shit with Quinten.

My kids didn’t deserve to see us arguing and fighting, and that’s the only energy I had for Quinten.