Chapter 1
Cast:
Lyric, 28.
Sable, 24.
Toni, 27.
Zane, 26.
Dante, 28.
Aaron, 34.
Greyson, 26.
...
“She wasn’t a bad girl. She was just a girl with a bad reputation.” — Unknown
11 Years Earlier
Atlanta, Georgia:
Zane Hutchens couldn’t help but stare at Lyric, even though he knew she’d never give him a second look. She liked guys like Dante King, guys who ran the streets, sold drugs, and had money to burn. Guys who could afford her. It wasn’t a secret that everyone at school talked about Lyric like she was some kind of hoe, but she wore that reputation like a crown. And honestly? She didn’t give a damn what anyone thought. Zane didn’t care about her reputation, though. What got to him was the sound of her voice when she laughed, the way her face lit up when she smiled. Or when she sang when they were in choir together. He loved that.
“Stop staring before you piss Dante off,” one of Zane’s boys nudged him, but before he could tear his eyes away, Zane felt a harsh yank at his shirt.
“You like what you see, or you just a damn fool?” Dante’s voice was low and dangerous, his breath hot against Zane’s face.
“Dante, chill,” Lyric said, stepping between them and grabbing Dante’s arm, trying to pull him back. But as she did, Dante shoved Zane hard into the lockers. The crash of Zane’s back against the metal echoed through the hallway.
“You could never pull a girl like this,” Dante sneered, grabbing Lyric’s face roughly and bringing her lips close to his. He pressed a hard kiss to her lips, but she jerked her head back, pulling away with a look of disgust.
“Damn bum,” Dante grumbled at Zane before walking off with his crew, laughing.
Lyric knelt down, her face softening as she helped Zane pick up the papers and notebooks that had fallen when Dante shoved him.
“I’m sorry about him,” she said quietly, her voice unexpectedly warm.
Zane, still stunned, stammered, “I—I’m sorry too, I was... staring.”
She chuckled, her smile lighting up the hallway. “You’re cute, Zane,” she said, standing up and passing him the papers she’d gathered.
“You kn-know my name?” Zane finally managed to ask, still caught off guard by her presence.
Lyric’s smile never faltered, and Zane could barely keep his eyes from following her every movement. “Yeah, I know your name. I’ll see you in choir later,” she said, her voice low and playful. Then, she leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. She used her thumb to wipe the lip gloss off his mouth.
“You’ll be way more successful than him one day,” she muttered before standing and backing away, turning to catch up with her crew.
As she walked away, Zane stood frozen, still processing what had just happened.
“Dude, did she just kiss you?” one of his friends asked, his voice a mix of disbelief and excitement.
“Nah, did Lyric Butler just kiss this nigga?” another friend asked, wide-eyed, as they all nudged him, but Zane could barely hear them. He stood there, staring at Lyric as she disappeared into the crowd, a dazed smile on his face.
Present Day:
Zane couldn’t tear his eyes away as he watched her move. The way she worked the pole, her hips grinding with effortless precision, like the whole thing was just another extension of her body. Her dance wasn’t just a performance, it was art. She slid down the pole slow, each movement smooth and controlled, drawing every eye in the room. The guys around the stage were tossing bills like it was nothing, but her gaze never strayed from his. It was like she was dancing just for him, and no one else mattered.
He remembered that beautiful face from back in the day, still stuck in his mind just like it was then. He hadn’t planned on staying this long, but once she stepped onto the stage, there was no way he was walking out.
“Yo, boss, you know I’m not letting you throw money at the enemy,” Greyson said, yanking the wad of cash from Zane’s hand.
“We were supposed to be here to scope out the competition, not sit through a show,” Greyson added, but he knew he was just talking to himself. Zane was too caught up, his eyes locked on the woman he’d grown up loving, watching her move with a grace that had him frozen in place.
“Make sure I get some time alone with her, Greyson,” Zane muttered, his eyes never leaving the woman dancing on stage.
“Boss—”
“Just do it,” Zane hissed, his voice sharp. Greyson nodded and walked off without another word.
Zane’s gaze remained fixed on Lyric as she moved across the stage, her body flowing with the beat, every step sending a pulse through the crowd. The noise around him blurred, the flashes of cash, the loud cheers, the men trying to get her attention, all of it faded as his focus zeroed in on her. She was captivating, powerful, and something about the way she owned the room made his chest tighten.
Greyson returned a few minutes later, his face unreadable. He didn’t have to say anything. Zane could see it in his eyes. It was done.
He stood up slowly, every muscle in his body tense. The last time he saw Lyric like this, she was just a girl in their neighborhood, and he was invisible to her. Now, she was a woman, a force, and he was going to make sure she knew who he was, who he’d become. “Security said he’d let her know to meet you in VIP. Let’s go,” Greyson said, giving Zane a quick glance before heading toward the stairs.
Zane nodded, walking backward as he kept his eyes locked on Lyric. He didn’t want to look away, but he knew he had to if he was going to follow Greyson upstairs. The club was buzzing, but everything felt distant now, his focus only on the moment ahead.
When they reached the VIP area, Greyson used the key from security to unlock the door. “Be careful, boss. I’ll be right out here if you need me,” he said, a serious tone in his voice. Zane just nodded, the tension building in his chest.
Alone now, Zane pulled out his phone, scrolling through various apps to kill the time. His mind wasn’t on anything but what was about to happen. He watched the minutes drag by, each second feeling like a lifetime.
Fifteen minutes later, the door swung open, and there she was. Zane sat up quickly, sliding his phone onto the table.
“I’ve never seen you around here before. You new?” she asked, her voice smooth as she shut the door behind her.
Zane stumbled over his words for a moment. “I—I grew up here. I j-j...” He stopped himself, letting out a nervous chuckle. “You still got that effect on me,” he said, shaking his head, amused by his own awkwardness.
“Still?” she asked, raising an eyebrow, a hint of a smirk playing at the corner of her lips.
“It’s Zane Hutchens... from the neighborhood,” he finally managed to say, feeling a rush of memories flood back.
“Zane... wow...” she said, her gaze locking onto him with a new intensity. She studied him like she was seeing him for the first time. “You grew up.”
“So did you,” he said, grinning. “How do you look better now than you did back then? I mean, I was already in love with you back then.” He joked, but his laughter died when she didn’t respond. Instead, she straddled his lap, and everything shifted.
“Why you here, Zane?” she murmured, her voice low as she scooted up on him, making his breath catch.
“I want you to come work for me,” Zane said, his voice low, steady.
“I’d never leave this place, or Dante,” she replied with a laugh, but the edge in her voice was clear. “He’d kill us both.”
Zane smirked, unfazed. “I ain’t worried about Dante. I’m about to open my own spot soon, and he’ll be out of business within a year. You’ll need a new job.”
Her eyes narrowed, her breath hot against his ear. “Stop talking and fuck me, Zane,” she mumbled, her tongue circling his earlobe, making his heart race.
Zane’s pulse quickened as she moved against him, the heat of her body making everything else fade away. He could feel the intensity in the way she spoke, the challenge in her voice, and the way her actions pushed him to the edge. His hands slid to her hips, gripping them firmly as he pulled her closer, feeling the electric tension between them.
“Lyric...” His voice was barely a whisper, but it was enough to make her pause, her eyes locking with his. For a second, everything seemed to slow down. The club, the noise, the chaos they all disappeared.
“You want me, don’t you?” she asked, her lips curling into a seductive smile.
Zane didn’t answer with words. He answered with action, his hands pulling her into him as he kissed her fiercely, hunger in every touch. The chemistry between them was undeniable, raw, and filled with unspoken promises.
She responded in kind, her hands finding his shirt, tugging at it, eager to close the space between them. Zane’s hands moved to her back, pressing her closer as she pulled at his shirt, her fingertips grazing his skin. Every touch ignited a fire between them, the air thick with desire. He could feel her pulse against his, the rapid beat matching the urgency building in both of them.
She broke the kiss briefly, looking up at him, her eyes dark with hunger. Zane’s fingers slipped under her shirt, the heat of her skin against his making it hard to focus. His hands slid over her curves, feeling the smoothness of her skin, but every touch was slow, deliberate, as if savoring the moment, knowing it was just as much about getting to know her as it was about getting lost in the need for her.
She let out a soft gasp when his lips trailed down her neck, his hands tightening on her as if he couldn’t get close enough. Her body responded to him instinctively, her breath quickening as his touch sent jolts of heat through her. She arched into him, her fingers digging into his shoulders, urging him on as his lips moved lower, teasing the sensitive skin at the base of her neck.
“Zane...” Her voice was barely a whisper, but it held a rawness that sent a shiver down his spine.
His mouth moved back up to hers, claiming her again with an intensity that felt like everything they’d both been holding back was finally breaking free. She kissed him back just as fiercely, her hands roaming, exploring the lines of his body, touching, pulling him closer. The tension between them grew heavier with every passing second. They quickly discarded each other’s clothes, tossing them carelessly across the room. Their bodies pressed together, and Lyric found herself beneath Zane on the couch, his lips and hands exploring every inch of her skin with urgent need.
A loud moan escaped her lips as Zane’s head moved between her thighs, and her gaze locked onto the security camera for a brief moment, the raw intensity of the moment filling her senses. She knew he was watching, knew exactly what would follow. But she did it anyway just to piss him off, just to prove that he didn’t control her. He didn’t own her the way he thought he did.
Dante King sat at his desk, flicking on the security monitor. “Aaron!” he shouted, kicking his feet up as he lazily clicked through the camera feeds for the various rooms.
“Yeah?” Aaron, his head of security, called out, poking his head into the office, but Dante didn’t respond right away. His eyes locked onto the feed from the VIP room.
“Never mind, I found her hoe ass,” he grumbled, his voice dripping with frustration. “Who the fuck is she in this room with?”
“Ion know but the nigga said he gone pay whatever I figured you wouldn’t be mad so I approved it.” Aaron replied, and Dante got up his fist balled, he swung punching Aaron as hard as he could in the face sending Aaron to the ground.
“That bitch is my hoe, you don’t approve shit she do!” He yelled, “I want her in this office the minute she’s done with him, and I wanna know who the fuck he is, understand me Aaron?” Dante gritted.
“Yes sir.” Aaron replied quickly rushing out of his office.
“You wanna test my fuckin’ patience?” He grumbled to himself as he returned to the security feed. He watched as she deliberately stared at the camera with every movement. It pissed him off how much he still wanted her, how much he loved her. But she always found ways to hurt him, over and over again. The love-hate relationship between Dante and Lyric had been dragging on for years.
He wanted her to be the good girl, the housewife who bowed down to her husband. But Lyric made it crystal clear, time and time again, that she wasn’t anyone’s wife. She wasn’t a good girl. She loved her freedom. And no matter how much Dante insisted to everyone that she was his, Lyric did whatever she wanted, not giving a damn about the consequences for the next guy. She would never change and she didn’t want to.
“Okay word is, his name is Zane Hutchens Mal said that was what was on his ID.” Aaron said as he re-entered Dante’s office.
“Zane, the damn Zane that just bought the old Pink Slip I fucking put a bid in for?!” Dante shouted as loudly as possible. Aaron could see the spit leaving his mouth as he yelled, the viens nearly popped from his forehead. “How the fuck did y’all let that nigga in here?! I want whoever working the door tonight fucking fired!”
“Yes sir.”
“And don’t even let that nigga leave that room, when she walks out? We go in.” Dante spoke angrily.
“Yes sir.”
Greyson Lee checked his watch for the third time in two hours, sighing and shaking his head. Finally, the door opened, and Lyric stepped out. Zane leaned against the doorframe, a huge grin spreading across his face.
“I told you I was better now,” he said, grabbing her hand and pulling her close.
“I can give you that, but I gotta go before two hours turn into four,” she mumbled, her voice playful but firm.
“When can I see you again?” he asked, his smile never faltering.
“You know where to find me,” she replied, leaning in for a quick kiss before walking away.
“Boss,” Greyson said sternly, but Zane just chuckled.
“Lighten up, man. I had to do it.”
“Who the hell is she?” Greyson asked, eyeing Zane.
“She took my virginity in the choir room my freshman year,” Zane replied, a smirk creeping across his face. “It was fast, though. I was hella embarrassed. Had to redeem myself.”
Greyson raised an eyebrow. “She seem like a hoe, boss, and I mean no disrespect.”
Zane glanced at him, unfazed. “You slept with how many women in the past week?”
“I don’t know, five or six?”
“Exactly. I ain’t judging you,” Zane said with a shrug. “Just don’t talk about her like that.”
“Boss, I thought you said you were a square in high school?”
“I was. But she was always nice to me,” Zane replied casually. “Let me grab my shoes and we can head out.”
“Yes, sir,” Greyson replied. He turned to head back into the room, but three men walked toward them. Greyson assumed they were headed to another room, but when one of the men attempted to step into Zane’s space, Greyson quickly stepped in front of them.
“Something I can help you with, fellas?” Greyson asked, his tone cold.
“Move before we move you,” Dante growled.
Greyson chuckled, unbothered.
“Everything all good?” Zane asked from behind Greyson.
“Nah,” Dante shot back, “I’m gonna teach you a lesson about coming into my spot and touching my girl.” He sneered at Greyson. “Move this Jackie Chan-looking-ass bitch.”
As one of the men lunged at Greyson, he caught the guy’s hand, twisting his wrist violently, snapping a bone and forcing him to his knees with a pained yell. The second man swung at Greyson, but he expertly dodged, landing a punch to the guy’s throat, sending him staggering back. Before Dante could react, Greyson kicked him square in the chest, sending him flying back across the floor.
Greyson straightened his tux jacket, his expression unbothered. “Let’s go, boss. I told you this was a bad idea from the start,” he said, letting Zane walk ahead as they both stepped over the injured men.
