Page 21 of The Don’s Virgin Obsession

I let out a short laugh. “You gon’ get down on one knee next and propose to a nigga?”

She laughed. “That’s not my style.”

I stepped closer. “Then let me lead. I’ll call you soon.”

I moved past her, got in my truck, and pulled off.

She stayed right there.

She knew what that meant.

Some people get a maybe.

Some get a call.

Most get nothing.

My phone rang before I hit the street.

Vanessa.

“You left?”

“I told you I was.”

“You didn’t even finish.”

“I saw enough.”

“None of them?”

I looked ahead.

“Not the one I want.”

“It’s Sade, huh. You need to let the virgin crush go.”

I hung up.

Alana Brooks AKA Na-Na

“I knew what it was… I just knew I could turn it into more.”

Ididn’t know I had my eyes on V Saint until I did. He was right, I did diss him back in the day, but it wasn’t because he was regular. V Saint was always sexy, and I would have given him a chance, but I was four months pregnant at that time, and nobody knew. I had been arguing with my BD that day and was hiding a black eye. I ain’t want to drag another nigga in my personal life, so I rolled with the rumors that I only fucked with rich niggas. Too embarrassed to show my real life. But that was ten years ago.

Although he thought I was that same girl, I wasn’t. At least not all the way. Throughout the years, I’ve worked a regular job as a paralegal, started my podcast for professionals, and changed my image. I did all this while raising my son alone. My baby father was alive and well. He was a popular six-figure rapper under Demon Records, with six other baby mamas. He paid his child support, saw his son 5 times a year, but I was far removed from him.

Now, what was true and didn’t change was what kind of men I was attracted to. I upgraded to rich men, it was true. I had tricks; I had sugar-baby arrangements. I’d only been seen with successful men.

That was how I built my lifestyle and my podcast, which was only for professionals. My podcast had taken off, thanks to rich men. And having V Saint on my show put me in position to quit my 9–5. The views brought in a pretty penny.

Now I was looking at him as the best thing that had happened to me. A meal ticket I could actually fall in love with. But I was saving love for later. I knew when he texted me two weeks later, saying, “Meet me at the Ritz,” that this was just sex. He wasn’t looking for what his sister put out there. So I was going to put this pussy and personality on him, so I’d be unforgettable.

“Mommy, can I go with you?”

My son came in and asked. He was ten now. Tall, but still a child, still my baby. He was a gamer and a student, sheltered in a mansion with my mother, who was also his live-in nanny. I paid her to do so.

“Not tonight. I’m going to Aunty Rema’s to watch scary movies.”