The Reluctant King: Book 1: The Book of Shadow Read online

  Shadow wiped away the steam from the bathroom mirror and stared at himself. He was an athletically built young man with skin the color of midnight and thick black hair that he wore in cornrows. He was beginning to sprout hair on his chin too, but it was taking its time growing in. Shadow was a handsome devil, though it had taken him years to realize it. Of all his father’s children, he was the only one who hadn’t inherited his fair skin. He was even darker than his mother, who had a smooth brown complexion. Being the darkest one in the house sometimes made him feel like an outsider. His mother had always reinforced that his black was beautiful and that him being darker than the others was what made him unique. But Shadow didn’t want to be unique, he wanted to look like everyone else. It wasn’t until he was older that he learned to be comfortable in his skin, but he still had his moments of low self-esteem. Though he’d never admit to it, his insecurities were part of why he dogged women the way he did.

  Shadow came out of the bathroom and wasn’t surprised to find the women gone. They were likely pissed at how he’d given them the boot, but they’d get over it. Even if they didn’t, what was it to him? There was no shortage of women who would eagerly occupy his bed and consider it an honor. After all, he was royalty.

  Once he finished dressing, he inspected himself in the mirror. His cashmere sweater was crisp, and the cuffs of his black jeans fell over his suede Timberlands just the way he wanted them too. A few spritzes of cologne and he deemed himself presentable enough to join his family for breakfast.

  CHAPTER 2

  Maureen King stood over the stovetop, scrambling eggs in a T-Fal pan. Using a ball of paper towels, she dabbed at a bit of sweat forming above her brow. It was hot in the kitchen and she hoped her hair would hold up under the silk scarf tied around her head as she finished working her magic. Normally breakfast would’ve been prepared by their housekeeper, Mrs. Norma, while Maureen slept. This morning, though, was different. It was an important day and she needed to dictate how it went from start to finish.

  After giving the eggs one last whip, she hustled over to the stainless steel refrigerator to grab the carafe of orange juice, which she had spent a good portion of the morning squeezing. She untied her silk robe and shuffled the heels of her plush slippers across the linoleum floor. Maureen was a diva at all times, even in her night clothes. She paused to examine her reflection in the refrigerator door. Even though she was in her early forties, you’d believe it if she told you she was younger. Her skin was a high-yellow shade and her eyes were a brilliant hazel. When she puckered her lips, they looked like tangerine slices. She couldn’t help but smile at the vintage beauty staring back at her. She took good care of herself and always had. Maureen was a queen and wore her crown well.

  Twenty-five years ago, if someone had told Maureen she would go from living in a roach-infested tenement in Harlem to a 3,300-square-foot home in Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey, she’d have laughed in their face. Little girls from the ghetto don’t get happy endings, or so her mother used to say. Maureen’s journey argued against such wisdom. She was a street chick—turned-housewife, and her road to the throne was anything but well-paved. A drunk and part-time heroin addict, Maureen’s mother couldn’t keep her shit together long enough to make sure she ate dinner. Her father was slightly better but he didn’t stick around long enough to add to Maureen’s suffering. Life had been unkind to her, but she refused to accept what it dished her way. As a kid, when things got really bad, she learned to shut off part of her brain and transport herself into a fantasy land where she reigned as queen. It was her only escape from the pain, and the vision that drove her to making her imagined life a reality.

  The time for fantasies ended when she got pregnant at sixteen. Upon learning that her baby was a girl, she chose to name her Millicent, after her grandmother—Millie for short. Maureen had no maternal skills to speak of and no support from the man who impregnated her, but after Millie was born she managed to keep them both alive and fed. Having an extra mouth to feed only made Maureen want to more quickly actualize her dreams of queendom. To stay above the poverty line she did things she wasn’t proud of, but it was her and her baby girl against the world. This all changed, of course, when Chancellor King entered her life.

  The circumstances under which Chance and Maureen met were just as unconventional as their twenty-six years of marriage. A man by the name of Roth was making a run at the district attorney’s office, and one night he threw an exclusive campaign party at a high-end Manhattan hotel. Socialites and power players from around the city gathered in a swanky ballroom, and Maureen found herself standing in the center of many important people. This was thanks to a well-to-do older gentleman she had been keeping time with back then. He’d brought Maureen with him as a showpiece to bolster his status, but it turned out that she was the one who received the boost.

  That night she laid eyes on Chancellor King, who everyone referred to as Chance. She remembered seeing him amble across the room, dressed in a well-cut black suit, shaking hands and smiling like he belonged among the elite. His eyes, however, told a different story. They were the eyes of a man who had seen things in life that no one else in the room had … except for Maureen. A quiet inquiry revealed that Chance was there as the guest of a real estate tycoon who had contributed to Roth’s campaign. Apparently, Chance was his protégé. Back then, Chance still rode the bench, flipping slum houses for a few thousand dollars’ profit, but he’d yet to be officially subbed into the game. While the bigwigs focused on properties in Manhattan and downtown Brooklyn, Chance operated in the trenches. His first few property flips were dilapidated buildings in Brooklyn slums that no one else cared to deal with. On paper, the properties were a waste, but Chance was hopeful they’d become something worthwhile. In addition to Brooklyn, Chance was involved in an investment group that focused on an area of the city called Five Points. Although he served as the low man in these negotiations, he soon established himself as a major player, proving to be an excellent property buyer and seller. But real estate wasn’t his real gift. Politics was where he shined.

  That night at the hotel, a mutual associate introduced Chance and Maureen. Over a glass of expensive wine and dry conversation, their eyes spoke more than their mouths, detailing an instant spark. Once they moved past small talk and flirtation, they exchanged their life stories. It was as if they had been destined to meet that night.

  Although Chance was a little older than Maureen, he had a boyish charm that didn’t make her feel like she was being pressed by a dirty old man. Chance spent half the night watching her. She knew that when the evening wound down he would make his move, and he didn’t disappoint. As he left, surrounded by members of his investment group, he slipped a business card into Maureen’s hand and whispered, “Give me a call when you get tired of renting.”

  Three weeks passed before she called him. It wasn’t for lack of wanting to; she was intrigued and wanted to get to know Chance, but she was hesitant. He was a rising star who appeared to be on his way to achieving great things, while she was a single mother stuck in the projects and living hand to mouth. Maureen feared that her baggage might scare him off. But to her surprise, Chance proved to be not only accepting of her situation but also of her daughter, Millie. In the following months, Maureen got to know who Chancellor King really was.

  The Kings had been players in the New York underworld since the 1930s, starting with Chance’s grandfather, Richard King. Richard made his bones smuggling booze for the Mafia during prohibition. He made even better money by skimming off the shipments and selling the extras in Black neighborhoods. He was making a killing from this side hustle until the mob made a killing of him.

  The next to hold the reins of power was Edward King, Chance’s father. He and his brother Butch monopolized the market during the heroin epidemic, which ran rampant through American ghettos after the Vietnam War. The brothers became very rich very quickly, yet they also had two very different ideas about how to spread their newfound wealth.
Butch spent his money on material things like cars, jewelry, and women. Soon enough, he was one of the biggest hustlers in town. Meanwhile, Edward lived modestly, investing in properties and opening businesses. At the end of their run, Butch found himself doing thirty years in prison, while Edward had laid the foundation for something his children could build upon.

  When it was Chance’s turn to sit at the head of the table, he had a different vision for what the King family would become. The mistakes of his grandfather and uncle had shown him that the only real way to secure the King legacy was to legitimize some or all of it. And thus began his reign and his mission.

  Things progressed quickly for Chance and Maureen. In a little over a year, she took his last name and gave him his first child, Chancellor Jr., who went by Ghost when he got older. Maureen proved herself not only to be a good wife and mother but also a valuable consigliere during troubled times, of which, in those first few years together, they had had more than their fair share. But Maureen’s polish and drive inspired Chance to move deeper into power circles; her cunning helped him fortify his position on the streets. In one way or another, Maureen had orchestrated the events that led Chance to believing that he was a king in more than just name. It was her idea to establish a monarchy.

  For as long as anyone could remember, the different ethnic groups that occupied Five Points had been at odds—until Chance stepped in. Thanks to a complex plan that Maureen helped put together, Chance accomplished something that hadn’t been done in more than one hundred years: bringing the heads of all the major crime factions in Five Points together at one table. It was she who subtly suggested that Chance combine his criminal and political connections and use them to offer each organization something they wanted but couldn’t obtain. It was like a grab bag of earned favors. Chance had something to offer everyone that they couldn’t refuse. To ice the cake, Maureen began whispering into the ears of the wives and girlfriends who would sit at the table. They used their influence over their lovers to push them toward Maureen’s goals. When the group of gangsters unanimously elected Chance to serve as the chairman of their new collective, it was he who received the pats on the back, but Maureen was the one who had made it all possible. She was a sweetheart, but she could be a cold-blooded snake, something that made her far more dangerous than Chance. The criminal empire she had inherited might not have been the fairy-tale kingdom she had once dreamed about, but she sat on a throne nonetheless.

  With Chance’s star rising, and his hold over his criminal enterprises now solidified, Maureen persuaded him to set his sights on a much bigger game than the one they had been playing in Five Points. She wasn’t content with a slice of the pie. She wanted the whole thing.

  “Happy birthday, Ma!” Shadow said, startling Maureen when he came walking through the swinging kitchen doors. He ambled over to his mother and planted a kiss on her cheek.

  “Thank you, Sean,” Maureen replied, calling him by his given name. “It must be snowing in hell if you’re the first one down for breakfast.”

  “Ma, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to call me lazy.” Shadow plucked a piece of bacon from the platter on the table, not realizing how hot it was until it burned his fingers, causing him to drop it back onto the platter.

  “I’m not calling you lazy,” Maureen said, picking up the now slightly cooler piece of bacon and popping it in her mouth. “You just aren’t the most motivated of all my children.” She added honey to the breakfast biscuits. “I take it you must’ve had quite a wild night if you forgot my rule. What’s my rule, Sean?”

  Shadow looked at the floor. He had hoped to avoid one of his mother’s speeches, but it didn’t look like he’d have that kind of luck this morning.

  “Let me help you out,” Maureen continued. “Get them vampire bitches in after dusk and out before dawn. The last thing I wanna see on the wake-up is one of your skeezers.”

  “I’m sorry, Ma. I was going to send them home last night, but I fell asleep.”

  “And that’s your problem, Sean. You’re always sleeping and need to wake your ass up. This home is our sanctuary, the place where all my Kings, and the princess, rest their heads, which makes it a sacred place. That being said, I shouldn’t have to constantly remind you that we take the trash out, not bring it in. You’re royalty, and you need to start acting like a prince instead of the damn joker. How can you be trusted to help carry your father’s legacy if you’re looked at as irresponsible?”

  Shadow sucked his teeth. “Come on, Ma. We all know who Daddy is grooming for the big chair. I’m not even in the running. That’s been made clear to me.”

  “Don’t act like you’re being slighted because C.J. is next up. He’s the oldest male, so by right it goes to him. It’s been that way for almost a hundred years.”

  Shadow rolled his eyes. “I know, tradition. I’m cool with that, Ma. Ghost is more than welcome to the headaches that come with being king.” It was true: Shadow had little stomach for the family business.

  “Do you hear yourself? Ghost is more than welcome to the headaches of being king,” Maureen said. “Spoken like a true sucker and not one of my boys. We were Kings long before your daddy took his seat at the head of the table. We are of noble blood and are expected to carry ourselves accordingly. Don’t matter which King sits in the big chair, what matters is that every King can be depended on to hold what we got. Every one of you I pushed out of my crotch is here for a purpose, and that’s to help make sure we stay on top. You need to get your head out of your ass and get with the program.”

  Shadow took his customary seat at the foot of the breakfast table and muttered, “Whatever you say, Ma.”

  “I need you to run uptown for me today,” Maureen told him while dumping eggs into a serving dish.

  “No problem. I’ll go as soon as I get out of school.”

  “School can wait. This can’t.”

  “If you’re cosigning me cutting school then this must be important. What do you need me to go get?”

  “Not what … who,” she said. “I hear Millie’s been hanging around the projects. I need you to go and see if you can track her down for me.”

  Shadow’s face darkened. “Not this shit again. Ma, why do you even bother stressing yourself out over that girl?”

  “Watch your mouth!” Maureen spat. “And that girl is still just as much my child as your Black ass is.”

  Millie was a sensitive subject in the King household. She was Shadow’s half sister and Maureen’s firstborn. Of all the King children, Shadow and Millie had the most turbulent relationship. She constantly picked on him when they were younger about being darker than the rest of them and would often make him cry by calling him cruel names like Tar Baby and Monkey Boy. Shadow was relieved the first time Millie ran away from home, but unfortunately, she returned. Unlike Shadow and the others, who had been born into privilege, Millie came up rough and wore her emotional scars on her sleeve. Chance always treated Millie like she was one of his and provided her with all the same comforts as he did his biological children, but it never seemed to be enough. She was a rebel who refused to play by anyone’s rules but her own. Things only grew worse when she got hooked on drugs.

  Chance and Maureen tried everything, from putting Millie in overpriced rehab facilities to threatening to cut her off, but Millie just couldn’t stay straight. The last time she stayed under the King roof she had stolen some of her mother’s jewelry and one of Chance’s cars. Chance washed his hands of her after that but Maureen still held onto hope that one day her daughter would get her act together.

  “Sean,” Maureen went on, “I know things ain’t never been easy between you and Millie, but try to understand that not everything she’s said or done has been her fault. Drugs change people … take them out of their right state of mind. Millie can be foul, but she’s sick. It’s up to us as her family to try and help her get well.”

  “Okay, Ma,” Shadow responded, “I’ll go hit the hood and find out if
anybody has seen her.”

  “Thank you, Sean.” Maureen kissed her son on the forehead. “I know you don’t want to, but in this life we have chosen to live, we sometimes find ourselves doing things we don’t agree with. It’s all a part of being a King, putting the good of the family above what you feel is right or wrong. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Ma.”

  Maureen wiped her hands on a dish towel. “Now, this little mission I’m sending you on has to stay between us. I don’t want your father to know what’s going on and I sure as hell don’t want you to tell C.J.”

  “Tell me what?” the elder son said as he entered the kitchen through the back door. He was decked out in a tailored blue suit that hugged his wide frame. Beneath his jacket he wore a salmon-colored shirt and a blue necktie. The two brothers favored each other, but unlike Shadow, who was borderline pretty, C.J. was ruggedly handsome, with fair skin and a square jaw covered in fine black stubble. He looked from his mother to his brother and back again, waiting for an answer.

  “Nothing, it’s just that Sean got in trouble in school again,” Maureen lied.

  C.J. popped Shadow on the back of the head. “What the hell is wrong with you? How many times do I gotta tell you how important education is?”