Chapter 1.

42.3K 717 592
                                    


The CEO of Zenith incorporated, Orian Moon, saw his wealth grow by about 77% over the same March-to-December quarter. Which he gave more than $900 million to the Zenith Foundation and $300 million to a gentrification project in South Africa.

The pace and scope of his charitable giving is staggering. As a publicly active philanthropist, he has given away more than what five of the country's biggest givers have in their entire lifetimes, Forbes calculates.

The tv screen goes black.

I whip around. Mama stands in the archway with her arm outstretched and the remote in her hand. She lowers it to her side with a pointed look on her face.

"Hadie, baby." She folds her arms, and levels a reproving glare at me. "What are you doing?"

"I was watching that," I say flatly.

"No, what you need to be doing is celebrating." Her hands move to her waist, fixing themselves on her hips. Her reproachful stance. "You just cracked that big case, writing that piece on those money-stuffing scoundrels. The feds couldn't even solve it, but my baby did. And now here you are." She jabs a quick finger at the tv. "Out hunting on the next big thing. Just take the time to celebrate this win."

 Her eyes are like deep pools of melted hazel, swirling with unabating concern. She moves to place the remote on the acacia wooden case. The head is lined with stands of laminated articles that I have written. And the shelves hold an accolade of awards I have won over the years. Not there by my choice.

My mouth opens to retort. But then I seal my lips back close, silenced by a fragrance wafting into the living room. I look at her urgently, pointing to the ceiling. "Is that? That smell... is that what I think I'm smelling?"

I inhale a deep breath, drawing in the cheesy, mouth-watering aroma of mama's lasagne.

"If you're smelling the world's best homemade lasagne..." Calum strolls into view, leaning his shoulder against the frame of the archway. "You're correct, princess."

My mom lets out a rolling, high-pitched giggle, slapping the air. "Oh stop playing, boy."

"I'm serious mama, M." He moves to her, wrapping her in a one-sided hug. "What we should be doing is celebrating how delicious that dish is. I even stopped taking my anti-depressants, cause now I just eat your lasagne."

She laughs again, her autumn brown skin aglow. Not a single wrinkle to expose her true age. Black don't crack.

I roll my eyes at Calum. "Whilst you flirt with my mama." I walk over to them, heels thudding on the vinyl flooring. "I'm going to go change."

Her laugh dies in her mouth. "You better, looking ridiculous in that damn pant suit." Her hand flicks Calum's arm. "You know she just barged back in here, no hello—nothing, just straight to the tv, watching the latest news on her next target."

Calum throws his head back with a laugh, flaunting a dazzling smile. Two rows of brilliant white. "Let me guess... something about Zenith?"

My shoulder knocks into his. "Whatever." I turn to look back at ma. "And by the way this—" I gesture to my all-black, form-fitting, full suit with a belted blazer and a lapel collar, "—is fashion."

"So is a dress," she says to my back.

My inner feminism shrieks inside. I spin around, tearing my lips apart. 

Calum cuts me off with an exaggerated hand gesture. "You know better than to talk back to your mama." He shoos me away. "Keep on stepping."

"That's right." 

Gangster In A Suit. (Book 1)Where stories live. Discover now