Fallen Queen

~ C H A P T E R N I N E ~

It's funny how rumors serve like rum for people- the more they tell, the more intoxicated they become- and likewise, the more they want. They become the weak mortar for a society that pleads and cries out for anything solid that could last- yet this is what we give ourselves- a bunch full of ridiculous lies that go around faster than you can say 'Fuck'.

She strutted inside without being invited, head held a tad bit too high, swaying her hips oh-so-confidently. Denying it would be easy, but your conscience contradicting it would be even easier. It was a fact- Delilah Simpson was a gorgeous woman with curves in all the right places and tan skin that women would kill for. It would be easy to see why Wolfe would choose her to be his bedroom buddy- with deep brown eyes and boobs that were cool (not to me, though) she was every man's fantasy.

The burgundy satin sweetheart dress is tremendously tight around her curvy body, the neckline a bit too low in front of her chest and her matching stilettos flashy and red. I shrug into my seat. She moves round the table and sits down next to Wolfe.

"That's twice we've met again, Achelois," she winks at me, and I know her lashes are fake, anyway. "Hi, Layla," she croons at Wolfe's mom.

"I don't recall allowing you to call me by my first name," Aunty Lay is surprisingly grumpy. There's no doubt she's not really supportive of Wolfe, but after all, it's better to allow him to make his own decisions- right or wrong alike- he's an adult now. Aunty Lay scrunches her nose at Delilah's dress, "Isn't that awfully pretentious for a Sunday morning?"

"Wolfy likes all shades of red," she makes a kissy face, "I'd do anything for him."

Aunty Lay mimics her under her breath and I let out a muffled chuckle. Delilah's cheeks turn all the shades of red 'Wolfy' must love, yeah?

"Why are you here?" Wolfe asks in one of the hardest tones I've ever heard out of him- I'm surprised. Delilah has made the rounds of the newspapers, magazines and tabloids with him- Wolfe must consider her important enough for it. However, his civil attitude doesn't stand quite right with me.

"Oh, yeah," she leans into him purposefully and takes her phone out. She swipes for quite a few minutes before turning the phone towards him, "You've made quite a ruckus so early in the morning, Mr. Theodore. It's funny they still think you are considering and pursuing girls. We're official, right honey?" She looks up at him with doe eyes. As my eyes shift to Wolfe, my heart jumps at his ashen expression.

"I was shielded by the guards' cars, my windows are tinted," he lets out through gritted teeth.

"Why do you wanna hide it anyway?" she spits out carelessly, "You do women, not girls like this one."

"What the fuck," I hiss and snatch the phone from her hands as she tosses her hair and crosses her arms. What I see nearly makes my heart stop. Aunty Lay's gasp from the side brings me back to the reality.

"Ridiculous," I mutter.

I stare back at the picture of me and Wolfe exiting the church, me looking at him with a playful grin on my face and his face breaking out in a (I-hate-to-admit-it) gorgeous smile. Beneath are more pictures, him tossing the key to me and me catching it, him leaning inside the car through the window on my side and looking at me who's sporting a chicken-emoji like expression. The site says in bold- 'Is Golden Boy playing it down?'

"Golden, my ass," I mutter.

"You don't have one, girl," Delilah jeers and makes a haughty fce. I lean over the table slightly, posing my elbows on the table, "Really? Arrogance is the camouflage of insecurity, Delilah."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, little girl," she responds like a child. I cross my arms and lean back. "Don't play games with me, Simpson," I stretch out each word, "Don't, ever, think that you're capable of that."