Black Butterfly
Authors: Nika Michelle
Black Butterfly
A Novel
By: Nika Michelle
Copyright 2012 Nika Michelle
Published by Sullivan Productions LLC
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without prior written consent from both the author and publisher Sullivan Productions LLC, except brief quotes used in reviews, interviews or magazines.
This is a work of fiction. It is not meant to depict, portray or represent any particular real person. All the characters, incidents and dialogue in this written work are the product of the author’s imagination and are not to be considered as real. Any references or similarities to actual events, entities, real people living or dead, or to real locations are intended for the sole purpose of giving this novel a sense of reality. Any similarities with other names, characters, entities, places, people or incidents are entirely coincidental.
Acknowledgements
Let me start by thanking God because he blessed me with this imagination of mine. Thank you to my parents Ethel and Charles for always encouraging my dream. You blessed me with books at a very young age and I am thankful for that. Thank you to my Aunt Poochie for always encouraging me. Thank you to my sister Fredareka and my best friend Nekesha for always reading my stories and listening to me go on and on about the characters in my head. Thank you for not thinking I was crazy. Lol. I truly love you two. Big thank yous to all of my classmates who read my stories and plays in school. I can’t name every single person who’s supported me, so if I didn’t mention you put your name in the _______. I really didn’t mean to. Oh, and thank you to my Uncle Donald and Aunt Ruth for giving me a place to crash when I first moved to Atlanta, GA! I love you!
I want to thank everyone who took the time out to write a review for me about Forbidden Fruit, my first release. It means the world to me. To all of the groups on Facebook who have shown me love. I want to shout out Kindle Reading Club and
Fun(4)daMental’s admins for showing me love. Shawnda Hamilton, Papaya Wagstaff, Shantelle Brown, Anjela Day, and Malika McLaughlin you are the best admins on FB! Thanks for the love! I also want to thank Joey Pinkney for giving me my first interview and to anybody else that offered an interview to an unknown author. I am so grateful to my girls Christy, Trykeata, Melanie, Elle, Nicole, Valencia, Sheka, Leesa, Charnita and Tanya for the support! Thank yous to my brothers D.J., Deon, and Von and my cousin Quon for inspiring some of the drama in my books. I love you guys! Thank you to all of my aunts, uncles and cousins that I haven’t named. I love you. MUAH!
I want to give a huge thank you to my publisher Leo Sullivan and Sullivan Productions LLC.
As I said before if I forgot anybody please forgive me. I love you!!! To all of the writers who came before me who inspired me! Thank you for opening the door. To all of my new fans/friends!! I love you!! Enjoy the book! Toodles!
Find me on Facebook and Twitter @urbanlitress!
Chapter 1
Seantay
Reneah Beauvois
After a very exhilarating shower I stood in front of the mirror and applied moisturizer to my face. My Chihuahua Shea ran into the bathroom, saw the massive cloud of steam and ran out yapping. Pardon my manners; my name is Seantay Reneah Beauvois. I am the youngest daughter of Sean Rene and Tameah Beauvois, the second richest family in the black Beverly Hills of the south, also known as Newmexis, Florida. Newmexis was a gated community of expensive mansions located north of Miami. I had just turned twenty and along with my two sisters was the heiress of my father’s massive fortune. Beauvois Hotels and Suites chain as well as my father’s lucrative Architectural firm had put our family’s net worth at around five hundred million dollars. I believed that I was my father’s absolute favorite daughter, although I knew that he loved my sisters too.
Standing about 5’5, I weighed a shapely 125 lbs. Both my parents were pretty average in height, but despite genetics I wanted to be taller. More than anything in the world I wanted to be a high fashion runway model and a fashion designer. I was considered short and a little too thick to be a high fashion model, but I’d already modeled for some very hot designers. I guess that was because everybody loved my father’s wealth and power, so it didn’t matter. After all, he was the black, southern Donald Trump.
Grabbing another fluffy white towel
, I dried my long, dark brown hair with auburn highlights. The thick soft curls that I’d inherited from my father fell past my shoulders to my mid back. My father was Creole and Black and had been born and raised in New Orleans. My high cheekbones and deep, dark, almond shaped eyes were both traits passed down from my Korean and Black mother. My exotic features were all attributed to my mixed racial background. My skin was light complexioned, but living in Miami helped me achieve a golden year round tan. Thanks to my personal trainer Randy, I had the perfect body. He told me that I didn’t even need him, but I knew better.
I walked out of the bathroom and sprawled across my pillow top, California King sized bed. The air hit my nude body, causing my nipples to harden. I closed my eyes enjoying the peace and quiet. My parents were gone and my older sisters didn’t live at home anymore. I’d let most of the staff go home for the evening, but Jose’, the gardener, was working overtime. He was Puerto-Rican and sexy as hell. I got up and stood at the window to entice him. He looked up at my naked body like he was mesmerized. It wasn’t the first time I’d given Jose’ a sneak peek. I wanted to invite him inside, but decided against it. I was too damn fine to be fucking a gardener. Not only that, but my parents would kill me if they found out.
The sound of the phone
tore me away from the window. Looking at the caller ID, I reluctantly answered the phone. It wasn’t the call I was expecting. “Hello darling. How’re you?” My mother asked.
“I’m fine mother. How’s Dubai?”
I asked. I hoped she didn’t detect the disappointment in my voice.
“The same way it was the last time your father and I came here
. Of course I love the malls. You know that there’re seventy malls here right?” She asked. Without waiting for me to answer she continued. “I wanted to go to Thailand, but your father insisted we come here instead.”
“Where’s daddy
?” I asked sweetly. My father was my world.
“Oh, he’s right here honey. Would you like to speak with him?”
“Yes, please.”
I heard some movement and then
his deep, rich voice. “Hi honey. How’s daddy’s little girl?” He asked.
“I’m ok. I’m just bored as hell.
” I sighed. My father was so cool. I could always be myself around him. My mother was a different story.
“Well
, you have to get up and do something honey. Call one of your little puppy dog boyfriends and get him to blow his whole inheritance on you.”
We laughed as he brought up a fond memory of mine. My high school sweetheart Avery Nichols Jr.’s f
ather died when he was sixteen and he got his inheritance when he turned eighteen. When he got his money he went crazy. Next thing I knew I had a Bentley and two houses. It was a good thing his mother was a lawyer because she negotiated and got all of the money back. If I’d married him we would’ve been bankrupt in a year. We broke up shortly after.
“I’ll pass
. Can I drive the Denali tonight?”
“Of course you can, but be careful.
I can’t afford for you to wreck anymore of my vehicles,” he chuckled light heartedly.
I laughed.“I wreck one BMW and you never let me live it down
. Love you. Tell mom I love her too.”
After we hung up the phone I contemplated on what to wear. The sound of my phone ringing again made my heart skip a beat. I checked the caller ID. Finally, the call I’d been waiting for. “Reco, baby. What’s up?” I asked reaching for the freshly rolled joint that was on my nightstand.
“Nothing.” I could hear the smile in his voice. “How’s my favorite little rich girl?”
“I’m fine
. So, what’s up for the night?” His voice was laced with infatuation. I knew that whatever he felt for me stopped there, but that was fine with me. Any relationship I had with the opposite sex was purely physical. Emotions were not my territory. Never had been and I seriously doubted if they ever would be.
Okay, I know your mind is boggled right now, so let me explain. Reco was this fine ass
man I’d met about eight months ago at a club in Miami. He was tall, bronze complexioned, sexy and clearly one hundred percent thug. You’re probably even more mind boggled about why I would want a thug. Let me shed a little light on the subject. I have a weakness for thugs and it all started when I was seventeen. I’d just broken up with Avery and was so bored with the boys at my school. All they cared about were stocks, bonds and their endless bank accounts. Who cared about that shit other than them? Well, I’m sure some women did, but I didn’t. One night I met this guy named Raheem at a basketball game at my best friend Reba’s high school. She attended public school, so I was in awe.
Raheem was so different from what I was used to. He was exciting and I had a thirst for more. I’d lost my virginity to Avery and hadn’t been with anyone else. Spending time with Raheem made me feel like a regular teenager. I
’d smoked weed for the first time with him and later that night experienced “thug love”. After that there was no way I could go back. There was just something about a bad boy that just made my body turn into hot mush. Mmm!
I would date the usual guys to throw my parents off. They had no idea about my secret lifestyle. I became smart about it too. I loved thugs, but only those who could afford me. I didn’t have time for some broke ass guy who could slang good dick for money. I usually went after the “ballas” and “shot callas”. The men who could afford to flaunt a diva like me. I liked to
ride around in nice cars, shop and visit exotic places. Shit, I was used to those things. I could live the good life I was used to and get some good dick too. Life was great and I didn’t have to settle for those lifeless, none fucking preps in Newmexis.
I turned my attention back to the subject at hand, Mr. Fine Ass Reco. “Why don’t you come over to my crib and l
et me eat that pretty pussy,” he suggested.
“Mmm, you must be hungry,” I said as I lit the joint. I took a long pull and inhaled.
“Very hungry baby. So, why don’t you get you pretty ass up, get one of your servants to dress you and get your driver to drop you off.”
I blew smoke out of my nose. “This pussy must be mighty damn good.”
“It is mami. It damn sure is. Mmmm! I want to try some new shit with you too shawty,” he said.
“Like what?” I asked.
“You’ll see when you get here.”
I anticipated trying something new and exciting with him. I was one to jump at a risk. I couldn’t help it. I had a very rebellious nature at times and liked to go against what I’d been taught to do. I got a rush from it. Besides, my parents were hardly around anyway.
“Okay. Just let me get dressed and I’ll be right over.”
“Now that I think about it you don’t need clothes for what we ‘bout to do.”
“Oh, so you’re not going to take me out and spend some of your hard earned money on me?”
“Unt uhh, not tonight. I just wa
nt to fuck tonight baby. I am not going to front. I’ll spend some money on your pretty ass tomorrow. I want you all to myself tonight mami.”
I giggled drawing in more
marijuana smoke. “You’re a trip. I’ll be there in a little while.”
“A little while?”
“I will be there in less than an hour.”
“A’ight. Don’t over dress.”
“I won’t.”
We hung up and I fin
ished smoking my joint. Let me explain my point of view about life. Someone like me is often mistaken to not have any boring moments. The truth of the matter just so happened to be that the life of the rich could get boring and monotonous as hell. I starved for excitement and I loved bad boys. Bad boys made money and still managed to have fun. All in all I could have the best of both worlds. I firmly believed that you only have one life to live. Why not live it to the fullest?