Page 76 of The Sweetest Devotion

Internally, I cringed. The Sheridan was Hampton Hills’s premiere restaurant. Being that Hampton Hills was what many deemed “the Black Beverly Hills,” it was only right that our best restaurant in the city was owned by a Black chef who studied abroad in France, spent time in Italy, and took notes in the Caribbean. Chef Jabari Peters could cook any dish he set his mind to. His esteemed restaurant was awarded three Michelin stars. It was because of this, The Sheridan was a known paparazzi hot spot. Many celebrities were often in attendance grabbing a meal, making the likes of TMZ and other nosy journalists and bloggers always on the hunt to snap a good photo or capture a juicy moment.

It was good publicity, if youwantedto be seen—which I didn’t.

“Oh, Mom, that place is always swarming with cameramen,” I whined.

My mother’s eyes found me, indifferent to the idea. “So? You should be drumming up some press for your relationship. This engagement came out of nowhere, people are curious, it’s time to make another public appearance. Especially since you flaked on the engagement party.”

She said it as if I wasn’t blindsided by this whole ordeal. Like I’d carried a secret relationship with Cain and had only let her in on it at the last minute. That was the story the world was getting, but it wasn’t the truth. I wasn’t even sure if we had chemistry enough to fake it for the cameras. I didn’t get Cain’s angle even more with the thought of the world watching us.

I was a socialite. Just that morning, I’d been bored and posted a picture of myself out by the pool. An hour later I’d already gathered fifty thousand likes on the image. Cain didn’t even have a social media account. Being attached to me came with fame and influence in the Hills. Something that didn’t seem his style considering his previous relationships. Was Cain ready for that type of exposure?

The society pages were already fantasizing about what we’d name our children. Truthfully, if we ended up procreating and having a boy, I was leaning towardDamien. If a girl, perhapsLucifena. Maybe I’d even wrangleSpawnas a middle name for either.

Not feeling like arguing further with my mother, I stood from the sofa and went up to the second floor.

The door to my father’s room was ajar, and instead of knocking, I found myself hanging outside to eavesdrop, to see my father and Cain together, to better understand their business relationship.

“You’re ambitious,” my father was saying. A peek inside and I saw him shaking his head. “You think you can get this up and going in ayear?”

Cain was standing beside his bed. Posture strong and erect as he had his hands in his suit pockets. “Instead of completely building from scratch, I think it would be best to add an addition to The Residence and remodel the current hotel tobeThe Residence at Cartier. It’s still a pricy and lengthy endeavor, but my men are drafting up the best model for you as we speak. This goes well, maybe I’ll hear you out about Vegas and Canada.”

My father chuckled at Cain’s nonchalance and veiled arrogance. At least, he started to chuckle until he was full-on coughing. Once he started, he couldn’t stop, and it sounded hard, as if a lung was launching itself up his throat.

I went to make myself known, but before I could enter the room, Cain quietly grabbed the bottled water from the side table and went closer to my father. He leaned down just a little to help my father reach the straw in the bottle and drink from it.

My father was struggling, and Cain…was so caring. No judgment covered his face as he held the water bottle and watched my father drink thirstily.

“Ah.” My father lay back and engulfed some air. “Thank you.”

Cain simply nodded and returned the water to the table. “Perhaps you should get some fresh air. It would be better for you to get out of this room and see some new scenery.”

Pain marred my father’s face as he shook his head. “This…is where I’ve chosen to die.”

A muscle in Cain’s jaw ticked as he blinked. “Don’t go out pathetic, Damon. It’s unbecoming.”

My father fisted his comforter and scowled. “I don’t deserve this.”

To that, Cain agreed with a bob of his head. “Sometimes, unfortunately, the worst things happen to the best people.”

“Why her? Why my daughter?” my father suddenly asked after a moment’s pause.

I crept closer, needing to hear Cain’s answer.

He was gazing at the floor, lost in thought. “A few years ago, there was some fundraiser in the city, some charity for kids. I was dropping by to donate and that’s when I saw her. She was playing with the kids, smiling, having fun—just radiating this glow, this light.” Cain came back to my father. “I thought it’d be nice if I could have a little light in my life.”

My father took in this information, sitting with it for a second before asking, “What if she never loves you?”

Cain didn’t flinch. “Wasn’t banking on it. But who knows, maybe she’ll like me.”

My father shook his head. “You could do a lot more for yourself.” He made a gesture, requesting more water and Cain was quick to grab the bottle.

Even though my life, my freedom, was in the hands of these two men, I couldn’t stop my heart from warming at the scene before me. A monster being kind to my sick father was a sight I never imagined seeing.

“We have to include an infidelity clause somewhere,” my father spoke up as he rested back once again. “You cheat on my baby girl and you’re done, Carter. She’s free.”

Cain wasn’t intimidated by the threat. He merely looked off, taking in my father’s navy-blue room. “I’m a bastard, Damon.”

“Noted,” my father responded. “But my word still stands.”

---