Page 43 of The Price of My Sins

The drive didn’t take long. The lounge we were going to was tucked downtown. It was all exclusive, low-key, and dimly lit. You didn’t find this place unless someone wanted you to.

When we pulled up to 420 Bar & Lounge in Manhattan, the driver opened the door. I stepped out first to help Olivia exit. I watched her step out like she owned the night.

Inside, the vibe was sensual. Dark leather booths, candlelight flickering on tabletops, and soft music welcomed us. I appreciated that the music was not too loud. I planned to have some genuine conversation with my red-dressed siren. The host nodded when he saw me and led us to a private booth near the back, close enough to feel the music but far enough to be left alone.

She slid in, and I joined her, letting my eyes drink her in for a moment before picking up the wine menu and saying, “I wanted to take you somewhere you could breathe. Just me and you.”

She looked at me, a fire settling in her eyes. “You always know exactly what I need.”

“That’s because I watch you, Olivia. Every move. Every look. I remember it all.”

She bit her lip and leaned closer. “Then remember this,” she whispered and pressed a kiss to my lip.

A waiter came over to our table, sitting a bucket filled with ice and a bottle of champagne on the table.

“Can I have an iced tea, please?” Olivia asked the waiter. He nodded before excusing himself from the table.

“You don’t want the champagne?”

“No. I don’t feel like drinking tonight. I hope you don’t mind.” She gave me a smile that didn’t quite reach its full potential, making my spidey senses tingle.

“Nah. You're fine, baby. It’s whatever you want.” I nodded, pouring myself a glass.

“Thank you for this. I’ve never been on a date before. Well, in high school, but that doesn’t count because my father was riding shotgun.” She laughed as if she could see the memory.

“Word?” I had to laugh, too, because I’d probably be the same way if I had a daughter.

“It was so embarrassing, Bo.”

“Whatever happened to ole boy after that?”

“Let’s just say… he never asked me out again.” Olivia shook her head.

The waiter returned with practiced grace, setting our plates down in front of us. The aromas were rich, and the presentation was dope. It was everything you’d expect from one of the top lounges in the city. But none of it compared to the woman sitting across from me.

We ate slowly, letting the conversation flow between bites of perfectly seared steak and delicate forkfuls of pasta.

“So, have you spoken to your mother?”

“Nah,” was all I said. I really didn’t want to talk about that, but I knew sooner or later, a conversation would have to be had.

“Baby, I’m not trying to ruin the night or upset you, but please… you have a talk with your mother. I’m not saying what she did was right, but life is too short. Y'all have already missed twenty years.”

“I hear you, O. Let’s just enjoy our night.”

“Okay…”

Olivia already knew the basics of how I was born in Augusta, Georgia, then moved to New York to live with my grandmother after my mother went to prison. Tonight, I planned to give her the pieces in between. It was important she get the full story before I cemented us being together.

After dinner, the Rolls-Royce Phantom limo glided through the vibrant streets of Manhattan, the city pulsing with energy as we made our way downtown. When we pulled up near the marina, Olivia looked out the window, her brows lifting slightly.

“We’re not going back yet?” she asked with a smile.

“Not quite,” I replied, reaching for her hand. “Got one more surprise.”

As we stepped out the limo again, the soft glow of the dock lights shimmered across the water. Moored at the edge was a sleek white yacht—polished, powerful, waiting. Its name, Serenity, gleamed in silver script across the hull.

“Bo…” Olivia whispered, her heels clicking against the wooden planks of the dock as we approached. “You rented a damn yacht?”

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