I smirked, then grabbed the elevator key off the dresser and headed toward the hall.
“You got my back?” I asked, not even turning around.
“Always.”
We stepped inside the elevator and rode down to the first floor, the soft hum of the machinery the only sound between us. I could already hear the subtle buzz of voices echoing from the front foyer. By the time we reached the lobby, Renza was already walkin’ in, grinnin’ like he had won the lottery.
“There go my boy,” he announced, holdin’ his arms out like he was hostin’ some game show. “You ready for this royal pussy parade or what?”
I shot him a look. “Nigga, what?”
He just laughed. “A’ight, a’ight, but listen—this is it. I got twenty. Not eighteen. Not twenty-two. I got exactly twenty. They diverse, thick, pretty and bold. I even threw in some wild cards just to spice it up.”
“Wild cards?” I repeated, raisin’ an eyebrow.
He winked. “You’ll see.”
Right outside the estate gates, the luxury sprinter van was parked. It was the type of bus rappers rented for their tours, decked out with lights, plush seats, and champagne chillin’ in the back. One by one, the women stepped out.
The doors of the estate opened, and the women began enterin’ the grand foyer in waves, each one movin’ like she knew eyes was on her. Kay’Lo, smooth as ever in an all-black silk shirt and a pair of Cartier Buffs, stood at the front entrance, callin’ them forward one by one like they was walkin’ into some exclusive black-tie event.
“So this a fashion show or a wife search?” I asked, barely hiding my irritation.
“Both,” Renza said with a shrug. “We makin’ history, cousin.”
One girl walked in wearin’ a silk dress that hugged her hips and swayed with every step. Another had on all white, glowin’ against her brown skin like she was sent straight from heaven. One chick had the nerve to wear fur and heels higher than her eyebrows. She walked like she owned the place. She didn’t even look around. She just headed straight to the center like she was about to claim her territory. Some were decent. Some were bougie and pretty with nails long enough to scratch a man’s soul. Some had lashes so thick I thought they were waving at me.
And then she walked in—big, tall, and chunky as hell!
I couldn’t lie… she was gorgeous in the face. Her hair was done up in soft curls with a diamond-studded headband to match. She was rockin’ a hot pink rhinestone jumpsuit that hugged every curve of her size-22 figure like it was custom made. Her stomach was sittin’ proud, thighs thick as couch cushions and arms soft and full, swingin’ as she walked like she was leadin’ a parade. Her ass was somethin’ out of a cartoon—wide, high, and sittin’ like a challenge. She had on white Air Force 1s with glitter laces, and her name was airbrushed across the back of her outfit in bubble letters:Big Taff.
“Taffy Royale, bitch!” she announced, her voice loud and proud as she spun in a slow circle like she was already crowned. “Big Taff in the buildin’!”
I damn near dropped my drink.
Blaqson coughed and turned away, tryin’ not to laugh. Renza clapped like she was the main event.
“Now that’s a star,” he whispered, like he had just presented Beyoncé.
I didn’t say shit, but in my head, I was lookin’ at him like:you brought this big-ass woman into my house, for what?
Taffy strutted right past me, smellin’ like vanilla frosting and cocoa butter, hips movin’ like a threat to all the furniture in the livin’ room. She had presence, confidence, attention and honestly, if she wasn’t built like a whole pantry with lashes, I might’ve been intrigued.
The rest of the women filled in behind her until the entire main floor felt like a runway. They was lined up from the front steps to the lounge area. All eyes was on me.
Renza cleared his throat and took his place at the front. “Ladies… welcome to The Jungle.”
He said it so serious, I could barely hold in my laugh.
“You are the chosen twenty… The Diamonds. And this,” he said, gesturing toward me, “is the man you’re here for. PressureMensah. The Prince, and the product of legacy. The future of the Keep.”
“This nigga here” I mumbled under my breath. He was actin’ like I was some damn trophy on a shelf, and he was auctioning me off.
One of the girls in the back giggled and said, “He fine as hell.”
“Lawd, I knew he was fine, but I ain’t know he was built like that under them suits.”
Blaqson was standin’ behind me smirkin’. Kay’Lo looked like he was ready to narrate the whole thing like a Netflix docuseries.
