Page 133 of The Love of Priest

Sylvia had obsessed so much over Leonard's money while Priest was growing up. Some days she would grow upset because Priest didn’t the same determination and excitement about finding it as she did.She always spoke about getting her hands on the money and being able to live life how she believed she should have since she had given birth to the notorious Leonard Justice’s bloodline. Priest was not only his first child, but he was Leonard's son, the one who would be carrying his name. Sylvia felt like she deserved it all.

Priest watched as she bent down to pick the bag up. She pulled the zipper to see what was inside. The money in the bag caused her eyes to widen in shock and excitement. "How much is this?" She quickly zipped the bag back and entered the house.

"$800,000," Priest replied to her. "It's from Leonard. Make good use of it,"he enlightened Sylvia who was now basking in the thought of being $800,000 richer. Once Priest's words registered with her, Sylvia's brows furrowed together.

"Everyone said he had a million dollars stashed away. This is only 800. Where's the rest?" Priest couldn't get over how greedy and money hungry Sylvia was. It was disappointing, but he expected this from her.

He leaned back in his seat while shrugging his shoulders lightly. "Let's just say you paid off some debt," he told her curtly.

"I don't owe you shit," Sylvia scoffed with agitation lacing her tone.

Priest scoffed back at her sly remark. She had some nerve to claim she didn't owe him anything. "You owe me your fucking life if we're being honest," he spewed. "Stay out of my way for a while," he advised her.

A silence poured from Sylvia for a moment. Priest had finally shut her up, and it was a damn good feeling. "Just like your fucking father," she spat with a shake of her head.

Priest clenched his jaws. "You would know. You spent all my fucking life up his ass, and all he did was show you how much he didn't want you. Maybe people were right. I wasn't the problem for him. You were," Priest spewed harshly at his mother.

"Here you are with the same oldI want my daddybullshit! Get the fuck over it, Priest!" Sylvia snapped at him as she took a seat on the Italian leather couch Priest had gifted her at her housewarming party for the home he purchased for her.

"I've been over it longer than you have," Priest stated. "Hopefully this money fulfills that emptiness Leonard left behind," Priest ended the call with that.

Sylvia considered this the usual treatment Priest gave her since they were almost always at odds with one another. Sitting her phone down, Sylvia averted her attention to what was important, counting every hundred to ensure Priest hadn’t shorted her more than he already had.

Priest decided to call it a night and return to Britain's apartment. His mind and heart felt lighter after the conversation with Sylvia. He was beginning to slowly let her go, and shockingly, it wasn't as hard as he thought it would be. In a way, he was preparing her for his absence as well. She was so used to depending on him for everything, whether it be bills or small inconveniences. With this money, Priest was going to observe how she handled her funds to fend for herself. If she wasted it like a senseless teen, he was going to wash his hands clean of her.

Priest knew if he explained his logic to Jazzy, she would think he was giving Sylvia too many chances just like he always did.With his mind lingering over to his younger sister, he decided to give her a call. She was currently at work holding up her end of the deal they made. Priest found club work a bit sketchy, but Jazzy assured him and J'Ru that she was neither dancing nor bartending. She was simply in charge of the ladies’ stage attire. Priest found her duties a bit off since at every gentleman’s club he'd ever attended, the ladies were wearing little to nothing but a piece of thread between their ass cheeks and pasties over anything else they weren't comfortable being out in the open.

Priest had Cyro and his security detail keeping a close eye on Jazzy. So far, he hadn't had to deal with any bad reports about Jazzy doing anything out of the ordinary, so things were good.

"Let me guess, another night with the shorty?" Jazzy assumed with a smirk on her face, not bothering to greet Priest.

Priest chuckled. "Always gotta be a fucking smart ass." He shook his head. "Where are you?"

"The club," Jazzy sighed as she glanced around the dressing room where she was seated.

"‘Sup with you? You sound down." Priest furrowed his brows together.

"It's nothing," Jazzy assured. "Taylor's on stage, and the one other person I kick it with, he isn't here, so I'm on my own tonight," she explained to her brother.

Screwing his face up, Priest questioned Jazzy. "He?"

Jazzy rolled her eyes while shaking her head. "Bye, PJ," she laughed before ending the call.

A part of him wanted to act out as her overprotective big brother, but he sided with the other part of him who was just going to let it go until she brought up the dating conversation again.

Once Priest arrived at Britain's apartment, he let out a breath of relief, finally able to go to bed and relax. After getting out of the car, Priest made sure to lock it up. He got into Britain's apartment with ease with the spare key.

Entering the apartment, Priest couldn't help but feel uplifted at the sight of Britain's vibrant decor. Britain was a strong believer in color healing, which Priest had no idea even existed, hence the fact that everything he had was a dull and simple color. Britain was slowly but surely introducing him to the benefits of vibrant colors and the tranquility of neutral colors.

Locking the door behind him, Priest stepped out of his sneakers. He sat his keys right next to the stack of money Britain refused to take. Britain was a prideful woman, which made her a challenge, but Priest enjoyed it, nonetheless.

Priest made his way to Britain’s bedroom. She had her lights set on dim while her speaker sounded off with soulful R&B. Priest pushed the door open, revealing Britain sitting in her bed with a pen in hand and her journal sprawled open on her lap. Upon his entrance, Britain lifted her head, locking eyes with Priest.

"What's the matter?" Priest furrowed his brows at her, concern lacing his voice. She looked as though a lot was on her mind, and the fact that she was journaling made it more obvious that something was bothering her.

Britain masked her face with a light smile. "It's nothing," she brushed it off while shutting the journal.Priest eyed her questioningly. Figuring she wasn't ready to talk, he let it go and shifted his attention elsewhere.

"How was your visit at Remy's?" he asked while taking a seat on the edge of the bed, hoping to have some sort of conversation with her before she called it a night and went to sleep.

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