Page 3 of Trial of Deceit (The Family’s Oath #1)

Chapter one

seven months ago

D espite being a protégée, Ashari Payne lived in her brother’s shadow for as long as she remembered. This case was an opportunity to reshape the cycle. It’d make or break her new career, along with her relationship with the person whom she looked up to the most—

Her father.

Taking a seat at the bar, Ashari’s eyes roamed the bartender’s body before settling on her face.

“What can I get you?” the bartender, smiling while approaching Ashari, yelled over the music.

“Water,” Ashari said. “But I want it in a pretty glass.”

The bartender grinned. “Water in a pretty glass coming right up.” She moved away before returning with the water in a colorful hurricane glass.

“Thanks,” Ashari said and moved the glass to her lips to take a sip.

“You a shake,” the bartender mused.

Ashari gave her a shy smile. “It’s an important night.”

“Oh, yeah?” she asked. “Yu first drink of the night a go deh pon the house. For good luck.”

“Thanks.” Ashari smiled and pushed her glasses up her nose as she looked at her phone.

It was a simple message from Charlie, stating that she watered the potted plant outside Ashari’s door.

She exited the chat when she felt the presence of someone beside her.

Ashari shot the man a sideways glance before nibbling on her lower lip to hide a smirk.

The man rested an elbow on the counter and looked at her. His face had a boyish innocence and his blonde-bleached hair was in a neat low cut. Though good looking, he was not her type. No one in this establishment was.

But Cameron being there made her know that she’d quickly have to make a certain individual her type. Ashari knew she’d have to stoop low tonight, but she didn’t mind. This was a job — nothing more. She laid the trap and they were already walking into it, eating from her palms like starving animals.

“C-can I help you?” Ashari asked the man, who’d been silently observing her for some seconds.

“Jed want yu.”

Ashari expected those words. She’d studied this man for the past four years, and he spoke how the documents said he did on these occasions. Curt. Simple. Straight to the point. The opposite of his nature.

She wanted to tell Cameron to go to hell. The least he could do was approach her in an inviting manner. But Ashari knew she had to play her role well. Her target was not a man easily fooled.

Jediah Richardson never approached women. He flaunted his flashy title of entrepreneur in the booming car industry, and women desperate for some physical intimacy came to him through Cameron Reeves.

“O-okay,” Ashari said, not amplifying her voice.

Cameron’s eyes briefly narrowed on her before he nodded his head in a direction for her to follow him. Ashari hopped off the stool. Like a pig to a slaughterhouse, she trailed the slim built man while he made a path through the clubbers.

Looking away from Cameron, her eyes shot up to the private section that overlooked the club.

Bright, neon red lights lined its walls.

Jediah was sitting on a chair, his eyes trailing her while he extended his arm across the armrest. A lit cigar was tucked between his fingers.

A man molded himself against the wall behind Jediah.

Ashari would’ve overlooked him if she weren’t trained to notice everything.

She wanted to glare, but she reminded herself that moving to Jamaica placed her in the center of Jediah’s playground. She’d adhered to his rules in this country, especially whenever she was in St. Ann.

One rule said, once called to the boss, a woman had to do one of two things: kneel or bend over backward. Sometimes, both.

Arriving at the private section, Cameron stopped walking so Ashari could approach the security guard who blocked the entrance.

He patted her down before allowing her in.

When she took a hesitant step forward, his large frame moved to block the entrance again.

He stood unmoving like a statue, as was expected of him.

Licking her lips, she looked back at the man on the cushioned chair.

Jediah eyed her like a piece of meat. It should’ve felt unwelcomed, but it sent a shiver down her spine.

She knew it was just a job, but she wasn’t oblivious to the charms of this man.

With his dark skin, sharp jawline, straight nose, muscular build, and soulless eyes, Jediah Richardson was the wild fantasy good girls were warned to stay away from yet couldn’t resist.

As she sat beside him, Ashari brushed off the envy directed at her from the women left behind on the first floor of the club. They wished they could be her, and for a moment, Ashari allowed herself to revel in the feeling of being envied.

“Yu look scared,” Jediah said, his deep voice making Ashari’s heart race. “Mi don’ bite.”

“Unless I want you to?” Ashari asked, trying to ease her nerves.

Jediah chuckled, and Ashari smiled shyly before looking away.

Jediah reached out and grabbed her chin.

His touch was unremarkable, but when he moved her head to lock eyes with her, she sucked in a breath.

The pictures she studied had done Jediah no justice.

How was it possible for a man to look this good up close?

Rapidly blinking, Ashari broke the stare. She needed to remember that this was a job. She would do anything to come out successful. He was supposed to fall for her, not the other way around. This case wasn’t going the right way already, but she’d fix it quickly.

“Don’ do that,” Jediah said.

Ashari pushed her glasses further up her nose. “What?”

“Look weh from me,” he said in a dark tone.

That was the Jediah she was trained to deal with.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Jediah smirked. Leaning back into his chair, he did another hungry take of her. “You look beautiful tonight.”

Ashari wanted to barf. There was no denying that Jediah was handsome, but he was terrible at wooing women. Or maybe he just had no effect on her because she was conditioned to feel otherwise. “T-thank you,” she said in that small, shy tone she knew he liked.

“Do you want to get out of here?” he asked.

“Think you would treat me to a drink first.”

“Yu want a drink?”

Ashari looked toward the bar. She focused on the bartender, remembering she needed to remain sober tonight. “No.”

Jediah stood and accepted his jacket from Cameron. When did Cameron get over here? Jediah shrugged his jacket on. The lights reflected off the gun tucked into his waistband. Ashari pretended not to see it.

“So, let’s get out of here,” he said while offering her a hand.

She rested her hand in his, and he pulled her to his side. He wrapped his arm around her waist and led them through the crowd. Jediah’s security guards were positioned behind and in front of them.

Some people stopped dancing to focus on them. That was another thing Jediah craved — the attention that his wealth brought him. It made him cocky. Ashari banked on it being his downfall.

As they approached the door, Ashari used a hand to gather all of her black mini braids.

She moved it from over her shoulder, allowing it to flow down her back.

When they arrived outside, Cameron held the door open so Ashari and Jediah could enter the throttling car.

He closed the door and drove off while they settled themselves.

“What’s your name?” Jediah asked.

Ashari almost scoffed. She’d studied this man’s whole life and heard how much of a charmer he was. The more he talked, she realized he was nothing more than another pretentious man. No wonder they’d always been a second option to her.

Maybe it’d been the bass of the music in the nightclub, but the attraction she’d felt was long gone. Getting him to fall for her might be harder than she imagined.

“Ari,” Ashari answered.

“Just Ari?”

“You can call me Just Ari if you want,” she said with a smile.

Jediah smirked. “Tonight, I’ll call you mine. Would you like that, Just Ari?”

“I’d like that if… you tell me you name.”

Jediah’s smirk dropped. His brows pulled together.

Ashari almost laughed. Here was a man who was so full of himself, yet words from a complete stranger knocked him down a few pegs. Just like she intended.

“Everybody in St. Ann knows my name,” Jediah said, confusion underlying his tone. He leaned forward and studied her for a moment before his face relaxed. “You have a slight accent when you speak…”

“I moved back here recently.”

“From?”

She shrugged. “I lived with my father for a few years.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Why are you so insistent?”

“Because everybody who’s important knows me.”

Her brow raised. “You a go insult me before you try sleep with me?”

“You must be important if I’m going to sleep with you,” Jediah countered and mimicked her nonchalant shrug.

A small smile crept onto her face. “Does that line usually work?”

“Usually. It didn’t this time?”

“Nope.”

Jediah chuckled and leaned back. “Speak normally. I like your voice and the bad Patois naa go work with me.”

Her brows pinched together. “Insults again?”

“You disregarded the first part of what I said: I like your voice.”

“Thanks,” she dryly stated, and he chuckled.

“What’s a pretty lady like you doing partying alone, then leaving with a strange man?”

“A pretty lady who just wants to be yours for tonight.”

“Are you flirting with me, Just Ari?”

“Is it working?”

“Partly, but it’s usually the other way around.”

Ashari smiled. “Then get to it. You’re losing points. Maybe tonight’s not gonna end how you think… seeing as me don’ important enough.”

Jediah chuckled. “I’m Jed. Just Jed.”

“Will you be mine for the night, Just Jed?”

“No,” he replied, wiping Ashari’s smile off her face. He chuckled, and she gasped. Jediah smirked. “You’re putting me in a good mood, Just Ari.”

“You’re making mine sour.”

“That’ll change soon,” Jediah said as Cameron parked before the hotel.

It was The McCarthy. The most lavish hotel in St. Ann. Just to get a reservation, one had to schedule their stay months prior.