The Prada Plan 5

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  I dedicate this book to my parents, Yul Snell and Jacqueline Hill. I love you both more than words can express. Thank you for always encouraging me, believing in me, sacrificing for me, and loving me unconditionally. Without the both of you, I would have never been brave enough to chase after my dreams. I love you forever.

  -xoxo-

  Ash

  Acknowledgments

  I would like to thank GOD for this path he has carved out in the universe especially for me. I am an ordinary girl blessed with extraordinary gifts. I know that all the remarkable things happening in my life have nothing to do with me. This is all you, GOD. I am both humbled and grateful.

  I would like to acknowledge my amazing husband, JaQuavis, and son, Quaye. You two mean everything to me and it is a blessing to walk this Earth, side by side, with the both of you. I carry each of you with me everywhere that I go. You are in my spirit and heart always. I love you, my kings! Last name Coleman.

  Last, but never least, thank you to my fans. You guys have watched me grow from a young woman to a grown woman and have been so instrumental in helping me build a lasting brand over the past ten years. Your support means everything to me and I hope I continue to grow in my craft and bring you artistry that resonates with your soul. The more I learn, the more I continue to love, continue to lose, continue to laugh, continue to cry, continue to smile, and all of the beautiful experiences that make up life … the more I will write them down and share them through my characters with all of you. I love you and I’m so appreciative for every single one of you. Thanks for the amazing journey. Let’s continue to take this ride together as the stakes get higher.

  -XOXO-

  Ash

  Prologue

  In this moment Indie was just a man, and YaYa was simply a woman. Despite the things that manipulated the space around them, God had designed them to be in this exact place at this exact time, doing exactly this. Man and woman shit. Husband and wife shit.

  We’re married, she thought, a mixture of terror and absolute joy bubbling inside her.

  They were attracted to each other at the most basic of levels. Their nature calling them toward a common ground as they stood in front of one another. This was love in its most simplistic form. They hadn’t felt this way in quite some time. Life had a way of reducing love … of burying it beneath mistakes, resentment, regret, and imperfection. Today, however, Yaya remembered exactly what it felt like to love Indie Perkins. It was so pure. Her heart beat to the rhythm of the rise and fall of his chest. It was like she lived for him, like it was his breath that kept her alive. Over the years they had drained one another, but with God present in their union, their love had been revitalized. Nothing had ever felt so effortless. It was like the miracle of birth. YaYa had pushed and pushed and screamed and fought and pained to deliver them to this place, this holy place, this sacred place of matrimony. It hadn’t been easy. In fact, it had been hard, but they had made it, and now they stood, just staring at each other as if they were seeing each other for the first time. YaYa could see the curiosity in Indie’s eyes. As soon as he had slipped the flawless diamond ring on her finger, she had transformed. Like a caterpillar into a butterfly, YaYa’s metamorphosis was stunning. She was his and he, hers. YaYa knew that she wanted him. Her labored breaths and torpedoed nipples screamed for him before he even touched her. The tears in his eyes matched her own, pools of disbelief mixed with desire that threatened to spill onto their cheeks. Their love had endured so many things.

  There were still chinks in their armor, wounds that still needed healing, but this night wasn’t a night to work out their issues. This was their wedding night, and the way their hearts filled to capacity as candlelight flickered around them made them put every indiscretion to the side. YaYa was afraid to move, afraid to speak, as if the perfection of the moment would diminish if she did anything other than just be present. This man, this king, with his melanin-rich skin and mysterious eyes, was hers. In a generation where black women were being deceived by counterfeits, she had found an authentic man. He was a rarity, and she was so undeserving, yet here he stood. Signed, sealed, delivered … she had papers in her Chanel bag to prove that it was real.

  As if it were an unspoken rule, he didn’t let words leave his lips. He reached out and grabbed her hand, both her hands, as they stood silently vowing to remember this precious moment. They were magnified in not only their love for one another but for God’s love for them. Nothing had ever felt so good. They were flying high in an alternate universe, and YaYa never wanted to come down. She had forgotten how much she loved this man. She loved his dirty drawers. She adored the shit out of him, and when Indie closed the space between them she waited with bated breath for their lips to connect. He was gasoline. He framed her face with his hands, cupping it fully as he tasted her soul. Every apology that had gone unspoken, he now poured into her with this kiss. He was so appreciative of her, and she felt it, not only in his growing strength that pressed against her, but in the way that he spoke to her without even speaking at all.

  * * *

  YaYa turned around and Indie slowly peeled her out of her dress, enjoying the anticipation of the moment. The cool air kissed her skin, causing her to shiver as the dress fell into a heap at her feet. He planted a single kiss with his full lips on the back of her neck, causing her to gasp. Her every nerve ending came to life, waiting for the touch of his skilled hands. The roughness of his fingertips as he massaged her tense shoulders turned her on. Indie was all man. Everything about him was rough around the edges. He was abrasive, aggressive, but somehow she softened him. Like da Vinci molding clay product, she had put in the years, the time, the understanding, to make a masterpiece of a man. She turned to him, and when she saw the wetness on his face, she finally allowed her own tears to fall.

  His hands slid down her body, and he scooped her under her backside. Her legs wrapped around him effortlessly as he carried her to the king-size bed.

  He laid her down, and as he hovered over her, removing his suit jacket, she smiled sheepishly. He did that to her. Made her blush. He was dope that way. Indie had no room for insecurity, however. He was her foundation, her protector, and he was about to take his time pleasing his new wife.

  She gasped when he divided her. Her nails dug into his muscled back as he stroked her slowly into a rhythm. She matched him, multiplying his passion and subtracting anything from her mind that could be a distraction. They were solving the world’s hardest equation. Somehow together, they had figured out the price of love, and they were buying that shit in bulk.

  The friction from his fingertips as he rolled her nipple and the raw grunts of pleasure that escaped him as he stroked her made her back arch. He wrapped an arm under her body, pulling her into him, as if they weren’t close enough, as if they weren’t connected enough. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes and rolled onto the pillow beneath her head. She felt the pressure buil
ding in that secret place between her legs. YaYa had been brought to orgasm many times before, but this storm that was brewing was unlike anything she had ever felt.

  “Indie,” she whispered frantically.

  “I know,” Indie growled, never letting up. Her hands slid from his back to his ass, and she pulled him into her as his pace picked up. He was so strong that the entire bed rocked and the headboard banged against the wall.

  He kissed her to stop himself from crying aloud as he finished. Nothing about Indie was selfish, and he went from her lips to her breasts, to her stomach and finally …

  “Oh my God,” YaYa moaned as he put his mouth on just the right place to bring her to ecstasy too.

  When she was spent, Indie laid beside her and wrapped his arms around her waist, spooning her.

  “Are we going to make it?” YaYa blurted out, but she regretted the words almost as soon as they left her lips. It was the reason why they hadn’t spoken. Their conversation was a direct contradiction of the fairy tale they had just experienced. Her gaze fell on the diamond broach on the floor that Ethic had given her. Instantly she felt guilty for thinking of him on this night.

  “I’m going to do whatever it takes to make you happy, YaYa. Every moment of every day I’mma be a better man,” Indie told her fiercely. Her silence spoke volumes. “Look at me,” he whispered.

  YaYa turned over, facing him.

  “I promise.”

  She nodded, and he kissed her forehead. She nestled into his chest, wishing they could stay right there forever. This bungalow that sat on the beach in Barbados was their safe haven. It was perfection. They were worlds away from anything that could tear them apart. Yet she feared that everything would fall apart as soon as they returned to the real world. She prayed that she was wrong, and as she closed her eyes she tried to play back everything about that night to keep it in her memory forever.

  1

  “Mommy!” Skylar’s voice broke through the crowd as soon as YaYa stepped off the escalator and into baggage claim. YaYa smiled the kind of smile that only a child could produce as she bent down and scooped their three-year-old daughter into her arms.

  “Hey, big girl!” YaYa shouted as she rained kisses all over Sky’s juicy cheeks. Her baby’s sweet laughter filled her ears. It was amazing how much she had grown. She was an inquisitive, beautiful, and lately talkative little girl. She was their love in human form.

  “Daddy don’t get a hug, huh?” Indie said as he kissed Sky on the forehead. Indie’s mother, Elaine, walked up behind Skylar, winded from keeping up with the likes of a young child.

  “Welcome home. How was it?” Elaine asked.

  “It was amazing,” YaYa said, grinning. “I’m a lucky girl.”

  Elaine smiled at the couple. YaYa and Indie were a lovely sight. After a tumultuous few years, they had finally gotten things together. “Well, Little Miss Skylar here just had to meet you two at the airport. I’m parked right out front. I’ll take her back to the car and wait for you guys while you get your luggage,” Elaine said.

  YaYa was floored. Life had never felt this normal. She had never been the regular girl with regular circumstances. She dwelled in the routine of it all for a moment, scoffing in disbelief. Indie turned toward her and frowned curiously.

  “You good, ma?” he asked. There was no worry, no fear or heartbreak in her eyes. It was the first time he had seen her this way. Ever since he met her, burden lived within her soul. She looked happy, and Indie made a mental note to keep her that way.

  “I’m good,” she replied as she walked toward him. He wrapped one arm around her, pulling her close as they went to gather their belongings.

  Newlywed love was the best kind. Indie couldn’t keep his hands to himself. He wanted to touch YaYa and not only sexually. He had to feel her, be connected to her, even if it was just the grace of a finger on her chin. He hadn’t felt this much pride since the day he found out he was a father. Becoming a husband gave him the same joy. He was accountable to her, and oddly it didn’t terrify him. He knew exactly what it felt like to walk through life without her, and he would do everything imaginable to make sure he never had to endure that again.

  As they grabbed their bags and made their way to the car, she paused abruptly before walking out of the airport.

  Indie turned to her. “What’s wrong? You forget something?” he asked.

  YaYa shook her head. “Once I step out these doors the honeymoon is over. Good times don’t last long with me.”

  “Do you trust me, YaYa?” Indie asked as he moved her to the side so that the flow of people coming out of the doors wouldn’t complain.

  She nodded, but that wasn’t entirely true. He had hurt her. She had hurt him. Trust was hard to rebuild. It was one of those things that just didn’t bounce back right once tarnished. The skepticism in her eyes was evident. That look he hated to see decorate her face was back. He couldn’t judge her. He couldn’t even be angry with her because he had planted the insecurities in her head the day Parker walked back into his life. The day he hesitated in choosing YaYa had changed their relationship.

  “Trust me, YaYa. If you can give me that, I got everything else. I’ll keep your heart whole. That’s for me to worry about, not you. But you got to let me back in. All the way. Okay?” he asked as he leaned into her, his forehead touching hers.

  She sighed deeply and nodded.

  “Okay,” she whispered.

  Skylar’s chattering was the only sound that filled the car on the way home. She was blossoming into a beautiful little girl, but despite how infectious her energy was, YaYa just couldn’t catch it. Her mind and heart were racing. Elaine could feel the tension in the air and remained quiet as well until they pulled up to their home.

  YaYa exited the car and grabbed Skylar’s hand. “Thank you, Elaine.”

  “Anytime,” Elaine replied. As Indie grabbed the luggage out of the trunk, Elaine looked at him and whispered, “She’s your wife now. She comes first always. Even if Parker—”

  “No offense, ma, but that’s the last name I’m trying to hear right now,” Indie said.

  “The fact that her name bothers you that much means she still has a hold on you. The only woman who should be able to make a man mad is his own. You’ll have to settle this thing with Parker, and you need to do it soon. It’ll be better for everybody if we just get this paternity test over and done with.”

  Indie absorbed the statement but didn’t respond. He kissed his mom on the cheek.

  “I’ll call you later, old lady,” he said, before disappearing into the house.

  * * *

  The buzzing of his cell phone interrupted Indie’s restless sleep, thoughts of Parker haunting his dreams. He had felt something for her, something that had been strong enough to disrupt his relationship with YaYa, and it disturbed him that she was still on his mind. He had loved her once, and a part of him still did, but her deception and lies had turned him cold. The moment he found out that King may not be his son, he became jaded toward her. Yet despite Parker’s flaws she still crossed his mind. He had thought marrying YaYa would put an end to his indecision, but it hadn’t. Indie needed closure with Parker. He needed to know why she had betrayed him. He wouldn’t rest well until he knew. It was this that urged him out of his bed, cell phone in his hand as he snuck out of the room.

  “Hello?” he answered, his voice deep with irritation. He had known Parker a long time. He knew that she had rehearsed what she would say for the past few weeks. He had always had the power to stifle her, to turn her mind to mush; with just the sound of his voice, he knew he had erased her well-prepared apology. “Why you keep calling my line, Parker? What do you want from me?” he asked. He wished the words had come out harsher than they had. Instead he’d spoken them desperately, as if distance was the only way to ensure that he didn’t fall victim to her seduction. His intentions were to be faithful to YaYa and to push Parker as far out of his life as possible, but something about his history with her we
akened him. Parker had been the one to teach him that he was more than what society labeled him as. He was young and thugging when they had met; she had taken the time to see his potential. He didn’t have it in him to hate her, but his disappointment at his weakness toward her was overwhelming.

  “So this is where we are? I can’t call?” Parker asked, a subtle break in her voice revealing the fact that she was crying.

  Indie sighed as he swiped his hand over his face and walked farther away from the bedroom, where YaYa slept. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

  “How can you say that?” Parker asked. “I know you’re mad. I should have told you the truth—”

  “That you were fucking my brother?” Indie said, louder than he intended to.

  Parker sniffled. “Indie … please, just meet with me. You can’t tell me that you didn’t feel what I felt, and King, he needs you.”

  “Is he my son?” Indie asked.

  “I don’t know,” Parker replied honestly.

  Indie had wandered through the house and now sat at the island bar in his kitchen.

  “I’ll contact a doctor to get a DNA test. I need to know,” Indie said. “Until that’s handled there’s nothing to discuss. I’ll be in touch.”

  “Indie…” Parker said.

  His heavy breathing was his only response. He could hear the remorse in her voice. The way she said his name, it had always moved him. The melody of her voice made him feel like the bad guy when his only “crime” was exposing her lies. He knew what her next words would be, and he didn’t want to hear her say them. In fact, he couldn’t. Professions of her love would only cause him to feel guilt, and he didn’t need that. He didn’t need her storming into his life, disrupting the way things were with the thought of the way things could have been. He wouldn’t have it. He wouldn’t break YaYa’s heart again, not for Parker or anyone else. So to avoid the past from haunting him, he would ignore it for as long as he could, and that meant putting Parker on a long leash until he could determine if King was his son.