Panders Crime Book Series: A Women's Fiction of Power in Urban Crime: Volume OnePart One by F.L Prince

Author:F.L Prince [Prince, F.L]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Micobie Publishing House LLC
Published: 2024-05-21T00:00:00+00:00

Sixteen

Bishop and Fierce stood together near the church’s entrance, their hands clasped in front of them as they watched the congregation disperse. Bishop’s expression remained stoic; his eyes focused ahead with a hint of tension in his posture. Fierce, standing beside him, felt the weight of his silence hanging in the air. She longed for a word, a gesture, anything to break the quietude that had settled between them since this morning.

Fierce pivoted on her heels, her gaze locking onto Bishop’s face. “What’s the matter with you?” she demanded, her tone a mix of frustration and curiosity.

Bishop’s pace slowed as he exchanged pleasantries with an elderly couple, his smile genuine but his eyes distant. “It’s good to see you.” After offering blessings to the next person that passed by, he turned to Fierce, his expression guarded.

Fierce, her voice thick with emotions, closed the gap between them, her eyes searching for a glimpse of recognition in Bishop’s gaze. “I’m your wife; you can’t keep pretending I’m not here.”

Bishop’s eyes narrowed, a shadow of resentment flickering across his features as he took a deliberate step backward. His jaw tensed, the words escaping in a low murmur filled with accusation. “You sure act like it.”

Fierce’s brows knit together, her lips forming a taut line mirroring Bishop’s restrained demeanor. “What are you implying?” Her hand instinctively slid to her hip, a gesture of both defiance and a silent demand for clarity. However, before she could press further, the unexpected intervention of Ms. Maribel and Ms. Agnes disrupted the charged atmosphere. Fierce’s muscles tightened with a surge of frustration as the two elderly ladies unwittingly inserted themselves between her and Bishop, oblivious to the brewing tension. She gritted her teeth, suppressing her words as her clenched fists betrayed the turmoil within, her mind echoing with unspoken expletives.

As Ms. Maribel’s weathered hands clasped Bishop Thomas’, a connection bridging generations, formed, each crease on her palm telling tales of hard work and devotion. Her voice, though gentle, resonated with a deep passion. “The service today was a blessing,” she uttered, her words weaving a tapestry of appreciation. “You bring the word of God to life, and I will pray that God will bless you countless times in return.”

Ms. Agnes’ aged hand enveloped Bishop’s other hand, her grip firm yet filled with a motherly warmth. Her eyes sparkled with anticipation as she said, “My grandson turns two next Saturday—”

* * *

The hallway pulsed with the click-clack of stiletto heels, a symphony of power and allure. Amidst the lively chatter of feminine voices, silhouettes draped in an array of thongs and G-strings glided with purpose, their every step a statement of confidence and sensuality. Legs clad in leggings or peeking out from miniskirts and babydoll dresses added to the mesmerizing dance unfolding in the corridor, drawing attention to the diverse expressions of femininity converging towards the conference room of “The Red Velvet.”

As they entered, each woman seamlessly slipped into her designated role, embodying a blend of charm, elegance, and allure that defined the essence of the establishment.

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