Fortress Read online

  FORTRESS

  Copyright © 2019 by nikki blaire

  All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage or retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher, Hollyville Publishing, and the author, and copyright holder. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover design by nikki blaire

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage. - Lao Tzu

  Dear Reader,

  love is my favorite thing, by far.

  I love the twists and turns that it takes.

  the joy that it makes.

  the gift that it brings.

  love, by far, is my favorite thing.

  Marcus’ story took me two years to write. During the process, I was so frustrated, but I’m thankful now that it’s complete. I needed every single moment of those two years to put this together. Every detail correlates to a special moment, down to Marcus’ favorite color - purple. So, I hope Marcus and Charlisse put a smile on your face.

  Also, I hope I don't sound ridiculous, but we edited this book several times, backwards and forwards. So, if you find a typo...sorry to this reader. I wouldn't know a thing.

  Love,

  ONE

  Jazz music accompanied the low, blush lighting that filled the African art museum. It had been transformed into a wedding reception venue for the evening. Art still adorned the walls, but it was just a backdrop to the extravagant flower arrangements that decorated the room. The wedding was beautiful and filled with the crème de la crème of Washington D.C.’s elite.

  Marcus Forde sat with his family at their assigned table lost in his own thoughts.

  “Wishing you were up there?” His younger brother, Dwele, nudged his arm.

  “Hell no.” Marcus shot back even though his eyes were on the bride. He watched as Vanessa Monroe, now Vanessa Bridges, moved through the crowd with her brand spanking new husband. The couple smiled and greeted their guests, stopping at each table. Soon, they would be at the Forde’s table and Marcus would have to pretend that he hadn’t just had sex with her a few weeks ago.

  “Could’ve been you though.” Dwele continued to mess with him. “You could end all of this tonight, if you wanted to.”

  He downed the rest of his drink then stood up to make his way to the bar for another. Marcus knew that his brother was right, but he didn’t want to end Vanessa’s marriage even if it was just a façade.

  He surely didn’t want to marry her. Vanessa lived to "put on airs" and his life was already full of enough pomp and circumstance. And while Marcus appreciated the importance of appearances, he wasn’t in a rush to add that burden to his shoulders. He was already running a multi-million dollar company. That was more than enough responsibility.

  To him, a wife was a partner. He wanted to marry someone who took away from his burden. Not someone who added to it, like Vanessa, or most of the other women that he met in this city.

  Marcus glanced at the head table, where the bride and groom’s parents sat grinning over their handiwork. The Monroe’s were marrying the Bridges, joining two of the most notable Black families in the Washington, D.C. metropolitan area. Brandon was currently a city Councilmember and on the fast track to becoming the city’s next mayor, while Vanessa was a former Miss Washington, D.C. and a socialite.

  Arranged marriages were alive and well among Black elite Washingtonians. There was no better way to preserve their fortunes and family legacies. And the Forde offspring were not exempt. One day, each of the Forde siblings would have to take the plunge for themselves and Marcus knew he was expected to be first. He was the oldest and the heir apparent to Forde Financials, his father’s wealth management firm.

  As the firm’s Chief Financial Officer, he managed their investments and financial planning. Marcus was also the only sibling in the “family business,” which meant that it was solely his responsibility to ensure that the Fordes continued to amass wealth.

  ​He looked around the table, his eyes falling on his sister, Ayda, who was also the youngest. She sat next to her boyfriend, Tremaine, who Marcus considered beneath her. He had no pedigree and was a single father. Ayda deserved better, in his opinion, but nothing seemed to change her mind about this man. She was clearly head over heels.

  Marcus’ lips formed into a scowl, as he watched Tremaine whisper something in his sister’s ear that made her giggle.

  ​He let out a low snarl then turned his attention to his mother, who was getting up to greet another guest who had ventured over to their table.

  Claudette Forde was perfection. She was beautiful, smart, regal, and maintained their household so that their father could focus on the firm.

  She was everyone’s favorite lady. The most admired woman in the city. And Marcus could only truly fall for someone who matched her grace, wit, and style.

  A unicorn.

  He said to himself.

  “Marc, do you know where your father is? He’s late. He’s going to miss the entire reception.” Claudette asked once she sat back down.

  Marcus checked his phone, but didn’t see any text messages or missed calls from his old man.

  “No idea.” He quickly sent him a text.

  Marcus, Sr. hated these kinds of events almost as much as he did, but this was the wedding of the year. His father needed to show his face, and most importantly, write the new couple a check as a wedding gift. Of course, Marcus could write it, but Vanessa’s father would feel slighted if Marcus Forde, Sr. didn’t present it.

  He looked down at his phone to check it again, when he heard his mother sigh.

  “There he is.”

  Marcus followed her eyes to find his father strolling into the reception with a confident saunter that Marcus had spent years trying to emulate.

  First, his father went to the parents’ table, pulled something from his coat pocket, then shook Vanessa’s father’s hand. Then, he headed to the family’s table.

  "Let's go dance, baby." Ayda stood up and dragged Tremaine to the dance floor just to avoid him.

  Marcus shook his head at his sister’s growing resentment towards their father. It had loomed over their family since the beginning of time, but had recently turned into the two of them completely avoiding each other.

  “Bout time you arrived, old man.” Dwele greeted their father first, but quickly moved aside because their mother was Marcus, Sr.'s target.

  “My meeting ran over.” He stopped in front of her.

  “Don’t start.” He mumbled under his breath, but Claudette had already fixed her mouth to do just that.

  Their bickering had become a new staple in their family. Marcus was never under the impression that his parents didn’t argue, but they surely didn’t do it in public. But, recently, it seemed like Claudette took every opportunity to let Marcus, Sr. know that she was unhappy.

  “It’s always something, isn’t it, Marcus?” She tossed her shoulder length black tresses over her shoulder then sat down.

  “What is your damn problem? I brought the check. Isn’t that what you wanted me here for any damn way?”

  The two began to go at it, which meant that it was time for Marcus to find somewhere else to sit for a while.
r />   As if reading his mind, Dwele motioned for the two of them to head over to one of the food stations that spotted the room. The music shifted to a cover song of Anita Baker, while Marcus gave a wry smile to every familiar face he ran into.

  “What you thinkin’ about, man?” Dwele nudged him as he motioned to the server for a slice of prime rib. “You’re never this quiet. You sure you’re not wishing you’d snatched Vanessa up when you had the chance?”

  “Not at all.” Marcus grinned. “And I could have her now.”

  Dwele passed him a plate, but he declined. This charade had killed his apetite.

  “C’mon, man. At least pretend like she loves him. That’s what everyone else is doing.” Dwele laughed, but Marcus didn’t find it funny.

  He looked in Vanessa's direction again. This time their eyes found each other, so she quickly looked away.

  “I’m just thinking about how my own bullshit wedding will probably have to happen soon.” He finally addressed his brother.

  “I feel like Mother is getting restless. I’ll be 37 soon. She was eyeing me during the ceremony.”

  “Was she?” Dwele shrugged. “I was asleep.”

  He took his plate from the server. “And don’t you think Ayda will save us both? She’s clearly gonna marry Tre,” Dwele started to say the man’s name, but stopped short once he saw his brother wince.

  “Let’s hope not.”

  Both brothers turned to the dance floor where Ayda and Tremaine were pulled closely together, swaying to the music. They were still in their honeymoon phase, but Marcus was counting on Ayda snapping out of it once the reality of their incompatibility set in.

  “What’s your problem with him?” Dwele moved in closer, so their conversation couldn’t be eavesdropped on.

  “He keeps Ayda happy. Plus, she actually tolerates us now. " He shrugged. "You're the one always wanting the family to stick together. If he can keep her coming around, then what’s the issue?”

  “The shit doesn’t make sense.” Marcus snarled, still watching them. “He’s got a kid. He’s broke.”

  “He’s not broke, Marc. He’s just not us. Few people are.” Dwele corrected, but Marcus refused to indulge him. “Well, you’re on your own there. I like him.”

  “That’s because you want to be like that nigga.”

  Marcus never held his tongue for anyone, not even his little brother.

  “Aight big brother.” Dwele took Marcus’ cutting words as a sign to leave him alone. “I’m gonna go sit down and enjoy my food.”

  He looked in the direction of their table then let out a sigh of relief because his parents were now making rounds to say hello to friends.

  “You’ve really gotta find other shit to be upset about, Marc,” were his parting words before he left Marcus standing there alone.

  You all aren’t upset enough.

  Marcus thought to himself, but he was used to being the only sibling who cared about everything.

  His brother tried to bend to their parents’ whim as much as he could, but ultimately, Dwele daydreamed about having another life. His sister, on the other hand, had always been hell-bent on rebellion, no matter how much he looked out for her.

  To Marcus, neither of them appreciated what they had. They were always focused on the flaws of being wealthy – the pressure, the politics, the pandering. But Marcus saw the power and he relished in it. He worked hard to continue what his father built and took his role very seriously, even if his siblings resented him for it. In fact, his seriousness was what allowed them to dream of being someone else.

  Incompetence.

  He scoffed then took another look around the room. Vanessa was coming his way.

  He definitely did not want to deal with her, so he quickly slipped out onto the nearest balcony. Once outside, he let out a long sigh.

  Finally, he was alone with his thoughts. He always had so many of them, his mind constantly churning. Everyone thought he had a sharp tongue now, which meant they would surely be devastated if they knew the things that he didn’t say.

  Marcus looked out over the balcony to the bustling streets of Washington, D.C. below. Lights from the neighboring skyscrapers shined bright, while the late night traffic buzzed. The nation’s capital was his playground and he reveled in it.

  I own this city.

  He thought while surveying his empire. The Forde name was known in every nook and cranny of the city’s streets. Their influence ran deep and their pockets ran even deeper. Their family was a hard and impenetrable fortress.

  And Marcus took it upon himself to be the embodiment of their strength. He was domineering, with a broad frame, dark hued skin, and height that only added to his mystique. Masculinity, wealth, and opulence dripped from his pores.

  The mirror image of Marcus Forde, Sr., which was exactly who he had been raised to be. Still, Marcus was frustrated and often weary from all that he balanced. He wished he had grabbed a drink to temper his emotions down, but alas, he was empty handed. He also wasn’t going back in there any time soon.

  “Shit.” He sighed then leaned over the railing.

  “I know. A hell of a view, right?”

  The sound of an unfamiliar woman’s voice completely caught Marcus off guard. He turned around to find an attractive, statuesque woman standing in the corner on the other side of the balcony. She had a drink in her hand.

  Lucky.

  He thought, but made sure that he kept his comments to himself. He also made sure to quiet down his dirty thoughts once his eyes swept over her. She was beautiful. Her hair was cut into a sleek bob style and her creamy cafe au lait skin was visible through the high slit in her dress.

  She moved into the moonlight, which made it easier for Marcus to see her features. She was impeccably dressed in a black gown that was undoubtedly tailored and designer. Her makeup was natural, which he liked, and her figure was causing his slacks to feel tight. Most of the women in this city were either extremely thin, like Vanessa, or the product of plastic surgery. He could tell that she was fit, but her curves were still very visible.

  “You picked the wrong hiding place if you were trying to be alone.” She grinned at him. “And I’m not offering to leave because I was here first.”

  She took a sip of the dark red wine in her glass then looked back over the edge of the balcony.

  Marcus fought back the grin that was forming on his face. She was witty. He liked that, but for all he knew, this woman was a friend of Vanessa’s. He didn’t need that extra layer of drama in his life, so he pulled himself together and thought of something casual to say.

  “I don’t hide from anything.” He let the words slowly fall out of his mouth.

  She turned back to face him, now wearing a full-blown smile.

  “You’re right, what was I thinking? You Forde’s don’t seem like the hiding type. My apologies.”

  “Ah, so you know who I am.” Marcus nodded, but that wasn’t a shock.

  Everyone knew him, but he had never seen her before. “And you are?”

  They eyed each other before she opened her mouth to speak.

  “Charlisse Lageaux.”

  Marcus ran the name through his mental Rolodex to make sure they really hadn’t met before, but he couldn’t recall.

  “No, we haven’t met before.” She read his mind. “I’m just in the business of knowing everyone.”

  She turned back to facing the moon.

  “And what business is that?”

  “Crisis management.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Councilmember Bridges is my client. Hence my invitation to the wedding of the year.”

  She worked with the groom. That was reason enough for Marcus hesitate, but he didn’t want to stop. Charlisse Lageaux was the most interesting person he’d spoken to all night. He knew nothing about her, but their immediate comfort made it seem as if he knew everything.

  “I’m a friend of,”

  “Everyone.” She finished for him with that same mischievous grin that she
had been giving him throughout their conversation.

  It was sinfully flirtatious, yet subtle, and teasing. He chuckled, actually finding her funny, which was rare.

  “Lageaux sounds French.” He moved a step closer to her, finally getting a waft of her perfume.

  It was a light, clean scent that made him lick his lips.

  “It is. I’m from New Orleans.”

  “How long have you been out here?”

  “Since graduate school. No city has more crises to manage than Washington, D.C., right?”

  “Right.” He took another step closer, but was stalled at hearing his name being called from behind him.

  This woman’s voice was painfully familiar. He turned around to find the bride standing in the doorway.

  “Marc,” She stormed over to him, completely ignoring Charlisse’s presence.

  “Vanessa.” He faced her. “Congratulations.”

  He said genuinely, which annoyed her. He could see it on her face.

  “Marc, I swear to God,” She started to get angry with him.

  “Yes, Vanessa, congratulations.” Charlisse graciously cut in, almost as if she knew that Vanessa was about to embarrass herself.

  “Charlisse,” Vanessa finally registered that they had company.

  Her eyes darted back and forth between the two of them. Another flash of anger sizzled in her eyes, but she kept a calm tone. “Thank you for coming. I know you’re an important asset to my husband’s team.”

  She tried to assert herself over Charlisse. It annoyed Marcus, but seemed to entertain Charlisse. And that made her even more endearing to him.

  “I’m just happy to be on the team.” She beamed then waved goodbye. “It was great to meet you, Mr. Forde. I’ll get back to the festivities.”

  She touched Vanessa’s shoulder then departed.

  The small act seemed to flare Vanessa’s anger even more. Her usually brown face was hot with an undertone of red.

  “As you were saying,” Marcus’ eyes were still on Charlisse as she walked away.

  “That bitch. She’s fucking my husband and now she’s trying to fuck you.” Vanessa’s words dripped with jealousy.