Page 1 of The Enemy

PREFACE

Lourdes

As I became older, it was clear that the world was run by inept men. And if there was a competent man, eight times out of ten, a woman was behind his reign.

My nostrils flared as I listened to the men at this round table dictate my future. It is silly of me to think that because my family founded this company, it would go to me one day—as it did with my great-grandfather, my grandfather, and my father.

The father who sat at the helm and did nothing to advocate for my rights.

Fire was lodged in my throat, and I was afraid that if I spoke, I would burn them all to the ground.

A part of me was sure that if I had been born a boy, we would not be entertaining this sham of a discussion. We could be on the cusp of the twenty-second century, but none of it would matter because men only cared that between my legs I had a pussy, not a dick.

Twelve members on our company board, and only three of them were women.

My eyes met with one of the other women on the board, and she offered me a small smile. I couldn’t return her sentiment because that weak part of me would want to cry in the comfort her gaze offered.

Marie has been part of our company for the last twenty years. She was older than my father, with dark hair and kind hazel eyes. My mother had adored her, and I was sure she was here today because of my mom’s influence.

I almost snort at the thought. Influence, what influence? Years later, and my mother was seen as nothing more than a dalliance to my father.

Maybe that was it.

Maybe it had nothing to do with the fact that I had a pussy instead of a dick. Perhaps I lacked the pedigree needed to continue said legacy.

We could be in the cusp of the twenty-second century, and to the rich—the one percent—nothing ever changed. Change came from men who put their egos aside and stepped down for a woman.

My eyes landed on the other woman on the board of directors. She offered me a bright smile that was full of venom. While Marie and I were both girl’s girls, Pricilla would never be one, for she was a snake.

She had smooth porcelain skin, not a wrinkle in sight, all thanks to Botox. Mahogany hair that fell in luscious waves. I suspected she had extensions in, but like hell if I would ask. Pricilla looked well put together with her pencil skirts, designer shoes, and pretty blouses.

For her age, she was in fantastic shape, something she loved to rub in my face whenever I was within earshot. She was just so lucky to have a slim figure. She could eat anything she wanted without gaining a pound, which was a lie because she never indulged. It was all shots fired at me. She was long and thin,while I was short and curvy. To our social circles, the fact that I had thick thighs, a round ass, and a handful ofchi-chismeant I had no discipline to starve myself—of course, it couldn’t be genetics.

The only thing I got from my father were his amber eyes. Proof to those around us that I was actually his. My father had sandy hair that was more white than sandy these days, and he was tall and lean with a fair complexion that tanned beautifully in the summer.

I was my mother’s daughter.

My hair was dark, long, thick, and fell in unruly waves—I did not need extensions. I was barely five feet tall and my skin was brown, and if the fact that I was one of three women at the round table didn’t make me feel isolated from the rest, my skin would sure make me stand out.

“Honey, we really need to come to a vote about this. It’s time to pick who will be taking the COO position.” Pricilla’s gaze cut to my father.

I rolled my eyes, not caring who had seen it. I didn’t have to look at my father to know he was displeased with her endearment. They were supposed to keep it civil at work, but she found every opportunity to throw it in our faces that she was warming my father’s bed.

My mother passed away shortly after my quinceañera. I know it was a party to show that I had come of age, but that didn’t mean I was ready to lose my mother. At least she got to share that part of her culture with me. She gave me a good foundation I could use for the rest of my life.

Fifteen years was not enough time. I don’t think anyone would be ready to lose their mothers at fifteen, hell, I don’t think I would have been prepared at fifty.

My fathered grieved, and deep down, I think he did love my mother. He was just too much of a coward to stand up for her.

A year after my mother passed away, Pricilla Caldwell lost her sugar daddy—I mean husband, and in her grief, she ended up on my father's dick. I don’t know how sad she must have been if she was already moving into our house in a year’s time.

Pricilla ran in our same circles. Hell, I’m sure my mom considered her a friend at one point. So, when Pricilla’s one-foot-in-the-grave husband finally croaked it, she slithered into my home—except she did not do it alone.

My father cleared his throat and gave her a tense smile. “I still haven’t come to a decision.”

Twelve people on this board and only one other person thought I could take the reins one day—and it wasn’t my father. Like I said, when Pricilla moved in, she didn’t do it alone. She brought in her son. A son whom my grandfather welcomed with open arms, a son my father took in as his own.

After all, isn’t that what’s supposed to happen when two families become one? My father embraced his role as stepfather, but the same couldn’t be said for Pricilla.

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