Page 44

"Why are you so casually placing a million dollars in your back seat after you shot it out of an air vent at an abandoned house?" She gave Priest a bewildered look.

Priest chuckled at her take of all this. "It looks crazy, but there’s a story behind all this shit." Priest gestured to the money in the back seat.

"So, it's not yours?" Britain asked with concern in her tone.

Priest shrugged his shoulders. "It technically is mine, but I don't want or need it," he explained.

"Then why'd you take it?" Britain asked.

Priest took his eyes off the road briefly to eye her. "When Leonard got locked up, he had everyone in the hood going crazy about some stashed money he left behind. When people started realizing I was his son, they all encouraged me to go find it and shit like that, but I wasn't really interested. Leonard didn't claim me as his son, so why the fuck should I be so pressed over his money?" Priest scoffed with a shake of his head. "It wasn't until a few years back when he got out that Remy gave me this address and told me to go claim what's mine. I found it the day me and J'Ru got fired from our job, but I never told anyone, nor did I touch it. I didn't feel compelled to do so. I didn't want his handouts or anything that ever belonged to him or graced his fingertips. My pride made me leave it all behind," Priest shrugged.

Britain couldn't believe her ears. How could he just walk away from so much when he was in need? Priest was one hell of a man. "I checked in on it occasionally. Just like I never touched it, Leonard didn’t either," Priest stated.

"So, why'd you take it now?" Britain questioned.

Priest chuckled. "He'll take the bait."

Britain sometimes hated when he would speak in code. She almost never understood him. "What?"

"I want him on my trail, make him think I need him for the benefit of his own ego," Priest went into detail. This was the beginning stage of his plan. The quicker Leonard jumped on his trail, the quicker June would be sniffing right behind him. Priest was willing to take them both out if he had to. He was really praying that he got the chance.

Britain angled herself to face Priest. "I don't even want to know what you have brewing in your head." She shook her head at him.

Priest chuckled. "Good," he asserted as he reached over the console to grasp her hand. "I apologize," he said.

Britain’s thumb caressed his knuckles as she eyed their hands that were fused together on her lap. "I'm sorry too. You're not anything near a disappointment. It's just hard to take everything in, especially when things feel good the way they are," she apologized. Britain felt pretty low for calling Priest a disappointment, especially after all he'd shared with her about feeling that way. It was a below the belt blow that she vowed to never utter again.

"You can't use your emotions as ammunition all the time,Gioia," he sighed. "That shit hurt coming from you, but I'm not gonna penalize you for it because I know it was derived out of anger and frustration. Next time, think before you speak." Although his tone came off as if he was chastising her, it was only right for him to express how much her words impacted him.

Taking full accountability, Britain was woman enough to validate his feelings. "I will," she replied.

Priest continued the drive hand in hand with Britain. He wasn't upset with her; he understood and accepted her feelings on the matter and wanted to move past the whole disagreement. The drive wasn't too long, but once they arrived, a light smile stretched across Britain's face.

Looking out the window, she was pleased to see he decided to take her out to the diner when they used to sit and talk when they first met. The diner was the blossoming of their current relationship, and it brought warmth to Britain's heart.

"Is this like a… date?" she asked, causing Priest to chuckle.

He nodded as he turned the vehicle off to get out. "It's whatever you want it to be."

He shrugged while getting out of the vehicle. He made his way around, helping Britain out of the car. They walked toward the entrance of the diner with his arm tossed around her shoulders as she wrapped her arms around his torso. They entered the homey restaurant, and the sweet aroma of syrup and brewing coffee invaded their noses. Priest wasn't much of a breakfast type of guy since he usually ate later in the day, but Britain had him up and active at all times since they had been together, so he indulged in breakfast meals more than he used to.

They were greeted upon arrival before being appointed a booth in the far back where Priest preferred. Seated, Priest and Britain thanked the waitress for their menus before she gave them some time to make their decisions.Priest decided on a simple breakfast of an omelet and bacon with a side of hash browns. Britain fell into the deep temptation of her sweet tooth and got red velvet pancakes with eggs. They both enjoyed their breakfast with coffee, not wanting to start feeling sluggish throughout the day.

"I set up a session with a stylist to have you fitted for the gala," Priest informed her. With the day of the gala right around the corner, Priest put forth the effort to get not only himself together, but also Britain, J'Ru, Kaymen and Jazzy.

Taking Jazzy was a last-minute thing, but he figured why not. She deserved the night just as much as Britain did.

"This feels kind of surreal." Britain smiled with a dreamy look in her eye.

"Yeah?" he chuckled. "I don't want you letting anyone put you in anything you don't want to wear. You gotta be vocal about what you want and don't want," he advised her.

Britain nodded her head, taking in the advice. She had never been hands on with a stylist, so she needed all the advice she could get.

Priest and Britain enjoyed conversation with each other over breakfast. Britain grew a bit sidetracked when she glanced out the window of the diner, noticing Cyro stepping out of his chartered black-on-black SUV.

"P, why is Cyro here?" Britain leaned in, whispering as if she were letting out highly classified information.

Priest waved her off. "It's cool," he assured her. "He's doing what he has to do."

Britain continued to eye Cyro as he neared Priest's vehicle. She observed him take the leather bag from the back seat where Priest left it and smoothly transfer it to the trunk of his SUV. She was a bit amazed by how unnoticed he went.Priest glanced in the direction of the window, seeing Cyro get into his SUV and pull off just as quickly as he came.

"Question." Britain raised her hand as if she were a student.

Priest found her curiosity amusing most of the time, so he chuckled before gesturing for her to proceed with her question. "Does Cyro ever sleep?" she asked. "He's like always around."

"Everyone sleeps,Gioia," Priest laughed. "I'm sure he does, though. He lives in the same building as the penthouse. I have no idea what he does in his free time," Priest shrugged.

"When's his birthday? You should really bake him a cake or something. You couldn't pay me to be out of my bed at eight in the morning to do what he just did," she scoffed while shaking her head.

"I got you sitting here, out of your bed at eight in the morning," Priest pointed out with a smug, ego-driven smirk.

Britain smacked her lips with an eye roll. "This is different," she claimed. "You're feeding me."

Priest leaned over the table, applying his lips to hers. A joyous smile invaded her face as her eyes gazed into his. "You're making this hard for me," she mumbled as they clasped their hands together.

Priest leaned back in his seat. "Making what hard?"

Britain sighed before responding. "Accepting," she eased out before glancing away from him.

Priest licked his lips before pushing his plate aside. He grabbed ahold of Britain's other hand to hold them both. "We'll take it day by day," he vowed.

Once they wrapped up breakfast, they left the diner. They headed back to Britain's place, where they decided to just relax for a few hours before they headed their separate ways to tend to different matters of their own day.Britain straddled Priest's waist as he laid with his hands behind his head, just looking up at her. To the right of him, Priest felt Britain's phone vibrate on the bed. It was evident that she was doing whatever she could to pay the phone no mind, but Priest wasn't. He reached his long arm over, grasping the device just to see Jadey's name flash across the screen.

"You're still doing this, Brit?" Priest sighed as he sat the phone down, not answering the call just as Britain preferred.

Britain looked down at her hands, which were planted on his muscular chest. "Yeah," She muttered with a sheepish nod. Britain had admitted that she missed Jadey after Priest told her Jadey was stressing Kaymen regarding their friendship being up in the air. Priest just didn't understand why Britain was being so stubborn when she clearly missed Jadey as well.

"You miss her,Gioia," he reminded her.

Britain scoffed dramatically. "Don't remind me."

"But you do, though," Priest continued. "Now you're no longer just putting a strain on her. You're putting a strain on yourself too."

Britain let out a groan as she threw her head back in frustration. "You're so much more handsome when you're not convincing me to talk to Jadey," she huffed, causing Priest to laugh.

"Alright then. I'm done," he surrendered. "She's gonna be at the gala, though." He mumbled the last part slyly.

Britain narrowed her eyes while peering down at him. "Say sike right now!" she demanded.

Priest couldn't help but laugh at her reaction. Jadey wasn't really attending the Liberty Gala. Priest just wanted to see how Britain would respond if she was under the impression that she was coming.

"I'm just fucking with you. I wouldn't set you up like that. I respect your decision to wait it out. I don't agree with it, but I respect it," he shrugged.

"Thank you, P. All I need is some time." She smiled at him before craning down to kiss his lips.

Priest placed his hands on her hips, groping her bottom half. "How you feel about coming home with me after the gala?" Priest proposed.

Britain let out a deep sigh as she contemplated scenario after scenario in her head. Priest noticed the look of worry flash across her face. "That scares me," she openly admitted.

Priest chuckled. "Why?"

"That's like being shoved into the lion's den. How do you think Jazzy's gonna feel about this?" Britain raised a brow.

Priest shrugged his broad shoulders. "You worry your pretty little head too much," he said to her. "You're someone I care for. Jazzy can accept that."

"Your mom didn't even give me a chance," Britain pointed out as a mean mug etched her face at the thought of Sylvia.

Priest shook his head as he recalled Sylvia’s behavior when she crossed paths with Britain. "Jazzy and Sylvia are like oil and water. Plus, I think you and Jazzy would hit it off. Y'all both feel the same way about Sylvia," he revealed before his chuckle turned into full blown laughter.

"I love how you take the awful taste your mother leaves in everyone's mouth so lightly." She swatted his chest playfully.

Priest's laughter settled. "I've dealt with it for 28 years. I learned to just take her as she is," Priest muttered, getting sidetracked by the thought of his mother. "But that's neither here nor there. Just tell me you're coming home with me."

Britain smirked at him. "Why should I?" she teased.

Priest’s dark orbs locked with her feline-cut ones. His cold fingertips circled the smooth skin of her thighs that were exposed in her shorts. "My bed's bigger. More room for you to run from me." He shrugged his shoulders slyly.

Britain bit down on her bottom lip as her mind immediately filled with flashbacks of Priest mercilessly stroking her with his dick. "Say less.” She nodded her head, agreeing to stay at his place.

An arrogant chuckle rolled out of him. “You’ll love it over at my place. Don’t trip.”

On the other side of him, his phone went off on the nightstand. Knowing the drill, Britain rolled off him and onto the bed to allow him to sit up and answer the call. There was an exchange of a few words before Priest nodded and concluded the call with, "Heard'ju. I'll be there in a second."

The call ended, prompting Priest to glance over at Britain. "No need to give me that look. Go ahead and leave." Britain waved Priest off as he gave her a look of sorrow webbed within his eyes since the phone call put a dent in their time together.

"See, you understand my lifestyle. That's why I love you." He kissed her lips repeatedly.

Britain chuckled. "I love you too, playa," she professed as he got out of the bed to get dressed.

"You'll be here when I get back?" He raised a brow while layering his chains over his shirt.

Britain turned over to her stomach, kicking her legs up flirtatiously. "Depends on whether I'm entertaining anyone else," she joked.

Priest halted his actions, narrowing his dark eyes at her. "You ain't fucking crazy." He screwed his face up at her.

Quickly, she let out a laugh, confirming that she wasn’t serious. "I'm joking," she assured him. "I'm gonna go see my dad today, though. I'll let you know when I get back."

After stepping into his sneakers, he shuffled over to her, a smug smile on his face. "I'll see you later then." He applied a gentle kiss to her forehead before averting his attention to her lips. "Stay safe."

Britain smiled as she placed her right hand over her heart. "You've got my word," she promised just like he would do.

Priest chuckled at the fact that she was mocking him. Saying a final goodbye, Priest exited the room before exiting the apartment and locking up. He was headed back to the showroom that Sylvia had abandoned. He, Kaymen, and J'Ru had plans of tidying it up to make it look presentable to anyone on the outside looking in. They had no plans of making any sales, especially since the cheap furniture would be utilized as storage space and decoy trafficking products. Driving around with ten bricks would definitely be petrifying; however, driving around with ten bricks stuffed into the frame of a sofa, sectional, or loveseat would put the mind more at ease.

After Priest left, Britain got up and got herself together to head over to Remy's place. She was showing up unannounced just to brighten his day. She knew she hadn't really upheld the duties of being a daughter much, but she was too wrapped up in bliss to even focus for just a second. She was hoping this visit with her father would go smoothly and motivate her to spend some more time with him.

Once she was all dressed in a simple outfit and a light face of makeup, Britain grabbed her phone, keys and purse and headed toward the exit of the apartment. She was about to drop her phone into her bag when she realized the difference in the purse’s weight. Peeking into the bag, she stopped dead in her tracks. "Fucking Priest," she groaned while unzipping her bag and backtracking into the apartment.

She dialed his number, and he answered after a few rings. "Before you go all crazy, I can explain," he chuckled, assuming she had found the multiple stacks of hundred-dollar bills in her bag.

"Priest, no. You don’t have to do this." She shook her head without even giving him a chance to explain. She began withdrawing the stacks from her bag and sitting them on her kitchen counter.

"Gioia, I'm giving it to you as a gift," he informed her, hoping she would be accepting of the money. "I don't want or need the money, so I want to give it to you." Priest had decided to give a hefty portion of Leonard's stashed money to Britain. It was pretty much free cash at that point. He was going to give Jazzy a portion to pursue whatever she wanted and leave the rest on Sylvia's doorstep since she had been pressed about it for so long.

"And you think I want or need it?" She furrowed her brows together.

Priest shook his head. "That's not what I'm trying to get at. This is just a token of my appreciation. Take it," he urged her.

"A token of appreciation? Priest, this crazy. I love your generosity and everything, but stop it. You don't need to gift me with shitloads of cash to satisfy me. I never asked, and I don't intend on asking. I love you, but no." Britain shook her head while placing the last stack onto the counter.

Priest let out a sigh. "Alright." He decided not to continue pressuring her to take the money. Giving Britain anything was like pulling teeth. She never felt as though she deserved anything that was given to her.

Priest knew he had over done it with sixty bands, but he honestly thought he would be able to convince her to keep it. Britain was a simple girl, and she wouldn't even know what to do with that type of money. A part of Priest was slightly frustrated with the fact that his generous approach was constantly being shut down by Britain, but the other part of him was pleased that the flashiness and money didn't excite her. It was his first time dealing with such a down to earth woman, but he was learning and he appreciated knowing her true intentions.

Hearing the tone in his voice, Britain could tell he felt a bit bummed out since she didn't give him the reaction he was expecting. "Listen. The wealth, the cars, the houses, the jewelry, the security detail, they don't excite me. You do. I love you because you wake up in the middle of the night with random questions about small details of my life. I love you because you pray before you go to bed, when you wake up, eat a meal and leave the house. I love you because you have an old soul, and sometimes, I'm convinced you've graced this planet before. I love you because you're you, not for all the lavish things that come with you," she expressed sincerely, hoping to make him understand that he didn’t need to overcompensate with money.

Priest was so used to everyone wanting or needing something out of him. It was evident he had given far more than he'd ever received. From the first conversation Britain had with Sylvia, she knew Priest was being used by the ones he thought were closest to him. Britain didn't want to be one of those people in his life.

Priest ran his hand down his face. Britain’s words spoke volumes. Britain could hear a smile in his voice when he spoke again. "You're a real gem. I love you," Priest said.

"I love you too," Britain professed before they said their goodbyes.

Once the call ended, Britain glanced over at the multiple stacks of hundreds she had sat on the counter. "He's insane." She shook her head before exiting the apartment.

After locking up, Britain made her way to her car and headed toward Remy's house. She made sure to stop for some food as a peace offering for her father to sweep the fact that she hadn't been by for a while underneath the rug.

After some usual traffic, Britain arrived at Remy's house, parking at the curb. Getting out the car, Britain grabbed the food from the passenger seat before bypassing the gate and heading toward the house.She made her way up the three short steps before applying a knock on the door. The door was pulled open by Remy who had a smirk gracing his handsome face.

"Well, well, well," Remy chuckled while stepping aside. "If it ain't my daughter who went big time for front-paging The Times finally coming to see her daddy," he teased while shutting the door behind Britain.

Britain laughed as she trekked through the home and sat the food on the dining room table. "I'm sorry," she apologized while shuffling her feet over to her father with her arms wide open for a hug.

Remy chuckled as he embraced Britain. "I missed you, kid." They swayed back and forth within the hug.

"I missed you too," Britain admitted. "I brought Rasta pasta as a peace offering." She smiled.

"Thank you, baby girl." He accepted the food, taking a seat at the table alongside Britain.

So used to the routine of eating with Priest, Britain extended her hands to her father to conduct a prayer before they ate. Jeremy couldn't help but raise his brows at the action, but he followed suit. He placed his hands into hers, listening to Britain’s short prayer in hopes that whoever prepared the food would be blessed, and the food would nourish their bodies. Releasing hands from their prayer, Britain lifted her head and was met with her father’s questioning gaze. "What?" she asked, her eyes trailing from side to side.

Remy let a smirk plaster his face. "Nothing. That was just… new." He shrugged his shoulders.

Britain let out a nervous laugh. "It’s nothing. I’ve just been getting into church lately,” she enlightened him with a subtle smile.

"Had time to stop by a church?" Remy chuckled at his daughter.

Britain shook her head. "Dad, you know everything's online now. They live stream it." Britain and Priest had become frequent viewers of a livestream by a well-known pastor. They knew it was a bit taboo to stream The Word in the comfort of their home, but the message resonated with them regardless.

Remy scoffed. "That's not church. That's a business." He shook his head. In his day, if someone had said church could be live streamed, they would’ve been ridiculed and shunned. Now it was just a commonality.

"It still gets the job done," Britain claimed with a light laugh. Glancing away from him momentarily, her eyes landed at the window where she could see Priest's cousin pushing the lawn mower back and forth. She stifled a laugh while recalling she and Priest already predicted Remy would have Mirsad taking care of the lawn. "You get lawn care service now?"

Remy glanced out the window. "Lawn care service would be a lot easier. That's Priest's little cousin. It took me roughing him up pretty good just to get him out there. That's why he mowing my grass with all that attitude," Remy chuckled while pointing at Mirsad who had a lethal mean mug on his face.

Britain laughed. Mirsad was definitely the character Priest described him to be. "What's been going on with you, old man?" Britain shifted the conversation to Remy.

A light smile graced Remy's face as he shrugged. "Your mother. She called a few days ago." He shook his head, the smile never leaving his face.

Britain’s eyes widened a bit. She could have sworn Seven had claimed she and Jeremy had nothing to speak about, especially since Britain was of age and didn't really depend on either of her parents.

"Wow! That's news to me. Is that why she's been so grumpy lately?" she asked her father. " Britain, stop talking. You sound just like your father. Britain, you should really stop doing that face. You look like Jeremy ," Britain mocked her mother.

Remy chuckled, knowing that those were things Seven was warranted to say. "I guess so. Phone call didn't go as well as it should've. I'll take accountability for that." Remy shrugged his shoulders with a sigh.

"Jeremy Pharaoh Demings, what did you do?" Britain narrowed her eyes at him.

"I just called out some things from our past. I guess it wasn't the time to tear the Band-Aid off. She was really trying to be nice. I give her that." Jeremy nodded. "I haven't had a conversation with Seven since God knows when. I had shit to say," he followed up with a scoff.

Britain let out a long sigh. She definitely wanted to get to a point where Seven and Jeremy could get along, but they seemed to always be at odds. All Jeremy wanted was a conversation, while Seven just wanted to move on and let things roll forward. Seven was okay with never speaking to or seeking anything from Jeremy as long as she lived. It was Britain who wanted to find her father and build a relationship with him, and she had been successful at it. Seven was just afraid that Jeremey hadn’t changed and that he was the same old Remy from the back in the day. She knew maturity came with age, but Remy was different. He was okay with being wild and living recklessly. Seven just wasn't on that type of time anymore. It used to excite her when she was younger, but now, it was just pitiful.

"I understand, dad. I really do, but sometimes you can be a bit abrasive and aggressive with getting your point across. Ma likes to grow defensive and shut down, so maybe you guys should try talking again with me there as the mediator," Britain suggested.

Remy let out a sigh while shaking his head. "I don't think that's necessary, Brit. There are certain things between Sev and I that I don't need you knowing."

Britain screwed her face up. "I'm 28. I think I can handle anything at this point."

Remy’s eyes seared into his daughter's. A look of amusement masked his face as he leaned back in his seat. "You can't even tell me you and Priest messing around, and you think you can handle me and your mama's drama?" He raised a brow at her.

Britain eyes widened in shock as she coughed abruptly, choking on some of the pasta she had just eaten. Remy couldn't help but laugh at the look on Britain's face. That confirmed it all. "You can't fool me, Brit-Brat," he told her.

A look of sorrow formed on her face as she eyed her father. "Sorry," she mumbled once she calmed her cough.

"For what?" Remy asked. "You're a grown woman." He shrugged his shoulders.

"Wait… you're not mad?" Britain screwed her face up in confusion.

Remy pursed his lips as he inhaled a deep breath. "Of course I'm mad. You know how I feel about Priest's situation. I don't want you involved in any way. Plus, you're the lead journalist for his trial now. You don't think that's a conflict of interest?" Jeremy knew Priest was a good guy, but he was also a product of his environment. Remy didn't want Britain having any parts of that lifestyle.

"It's nothing like that," Britain disclaimed. "We're keeping everything private."

"Not private enough if I found out," Jeremy pointed out.

Britain let out a deep sigh of defeat. "Okay, I screwed up. I shouldn't have gotten involved with him, especially with what he has going on, but I don't regret it," she clarified. "Priest is the best thing that's happened to me since I could remember. He's not what the world portrays him to be."

"Brit, he's exactly what the world portrays him to be. Trust me. I know," Remy stressed. Britain was fixing her lips to tell him he was wrong, but he beat her to the punch. "But I also know he has a heart, which I was privileged enough to experience. Priest has come a long way to become who he is now. The question is are you ready to deal with what comes with his lifestyle and his past?"

Without hesitation, Britain nodded her head in confirmation. "I love him, and he loves me," she confessed.

Remy’s eyes bore into Britain's. He was seeking any sign of uncertainty within her but couldn't find any. In fact, Remy was able to see that his daughter had fallen in love. A deep, stressed breath vented out of him as he shook his head at Britain. She took his gesture as a sign of disappointment.

"I'm sorry," she apologized once more.

"There's nothing to be sorry about, Brit. You can't help who you love." He ran a hand down his face in distress. "Just be careful. Just please be careful.”