The 4Mula (Prologue)

May 3, 2018

Nearly four hours earlier, the beautiful Eve Evangeline Adams, had nervously left her home in the Bay Area, and boarded an Atlanta-bound, luxury jetliner. She had playfully debated with her “friend”, that flying her to his home, private, wasn’t necessary. That she had no problem soaring the friendly skies on a 747 with a plane full of passengers, all with a shared destination. “If it makes you feel better, I can even do first class . . .” she had stated, in an attempt to persuade him to see things her way. But he had insisted that she fly private. “Just let me spoil you,” he had plead.
When she ascended the stairs of the jet, and entered its cabin, Eve was in awe of the luxury she was met with. Black carpet speckled in white, served as her walkway. Ahead sat seven leather white on black passenger seats, several swivel chairs, and a mini bar. Nothing but comfort—and she had it all to herself.

Eve finally caved to the fact, that being spoiled wasn’t so bad. And so, it made it easier for the time in the air, to be spent thinking about how much life had changed for the better. And how much she couldn’t wait to spoil her baby in that new life.

But that was all before she heard the pilot announce that they were over Atlanta.

Suddenly, as the plane awaited clearance for landing, Eve’s nerves returned, and once again kicked into high gear. The flight was coming to an end, but the night was just beginning. Was she ready for whatever that came with, though? Should she have accepted his apology and let him be that one fun piece of the past? Leering out of the windows at the dark skies, Eve took in the beauty of the city. Atlanta wasn’t new to her, but it always gave her a feeling of euphoria. It held a certain power, elegance, and allure for her.

The bright lights beamed below. They were so seductive, so inviting.

Although the illuminated city tried to convince her that nothing but luxury, and fun awaited, Eve felt a resistance. It was a nagging pull . . . in the direction of caution. It was one that killed any excitement she might have had. In fact, the tugging pinched at her, violently. Restlessness ensued. Her nerves abound. Right in that second, Eve wished she had the authority to instruct the pilot to reroute and take her back to where he had picked her up from. Home.
She couldn’t shake the feeling, that she had mistakenly ignored a guttural instinct. Especially, when her right leg began to involuntarily tap up and down. Up and down it went, until she consciously stopped it. At this point, it was all for nothing anyway. For when the jet finally graced the tarmac, Eve received the stern reminder that there was no turning back. She had arrived.

So, she did what made sense to her in that moment. She coached herself with, ‘You’re overthinking. Shake it off.’

Once off the plane, a guy of large stature, but very little dialogue, held open the back door to a stretch hummer. “Good evening,” were his only words before closing her in behind the dark, tinted windows. Immediately, the smell of cinnamon latched onto her senses, playing around at the entrance to her nostrils. Made Eve instantly think of her grandmother’s sweet potato pie, and how it used to smell up the entire kitchen. “Mmmm,” she sighed, reveling in the sweet aroma. She inhaled several deep breaths, then released them between a tiny hole formed between her full lips. She was trying to reach that calm mental space where the thoughts weren’t so frenzied.

Luckily, for her, the longer they drove along, the more her efforts to reach a calmer state, were slowly beginning to work. The extra push she needed, came when music suddenly filled the space. The soothing sound of vocals against instruments, allowed her to instantly surrender to peace. She dismissed all else that had previously tried to dissuade her.

Right on time, they reached their destination. Even before the spiked, ten-foot-tall wrought iron gates parted, the multi-level home’s beauty came into view, about a quarter mile ahead. It was an attractive vision, and for sure fit for a king, on the inside. From where they were in the distance, Eve could tell that it was an all-glass residence that seemed to have every light on. It was lit up like the Mormon Temple in Oakland. That thing could be seen from the freeway, it was so bright. Same with this home they were slowly approaching.

She tried counting the windows, but soon gave up because some of them seemed to form into one! Then there were others that were so wide, she found herself wondering if it belonged to a single room, or if it stretched across a few! It was insane architecture, for sure. She was fascinated by the see-through feel of the residence. But, technically, you can only see inside if you’re invited.

As if the grandeur of the home wasn’t enough, there were water fountains spouting water, the color of indigo, from large stone structures. “Sooo fucking beautiful,” she whispered. About a minute later, the driver reached the massive circular driveway, and everything, including the waterfalls, magnified taking Eve’s breath away. Seeing them in the distance was just the tip of the iceberg. “Lifestyles of the rich and fucking famous,” she mumbled to herself.

She wanted to pull out her phone to capture a picture. A picture just to gawk at later on, maybe put on a vision board! But she decided against that. She instead, chose to focus on the evening that she was walking into, in just a short few minutes.

However, the more the scene played out before her, and more amenities came into view, Eve changed her mind. No, fuck that, she said to herself, as she quickly retrieved her phone from her purse, took it out of airplane mode, and snuck a few shots.

The door opened a short time after her last image was shot. The driver stood erect at the door’s edge, allowing Eve to make her exit. “I’ll grab your bag from the trunk,” he said.

“Okay, thank you.”
At first, Eve stood in place confused about what she was to do next, but then the monogrammed double glass doors parted, and there he stood. He looked as good as ever. Sexy. Short-sleeved white shirt, faded jeans, and a pair of snow-white Givenchy tennis shoes on his feet. His hair, as always, was immaculately cut with a light fade on the sides, and the goatee was arguably designed by someone who had graduated at the top of barber school.

“There she is,” he said, approaching her and wrapping her in his arms covering her with Tom Ford’s Black Orchid.

“You look good, girl. Tried to match me with the white on denim, I see.”

“Seems like,” she responded, more excited to see him than she thought she would be.

“Here you go, sir,” the driver stated, handing over Eve’s single overnight bag.

“I told you not to bring anything,” he laughed. “Told you, I got you. Had to do it your way.”

She chuckled lightly. “You knew I would.”

“Yeah, I did. Let’s get inside.”

Entering into the massive foyer of his large home, made Eve feel guilty for having experienced jitters. Once again, she was met with more amazing visuals. It was all-white, black, and glass everywhere. The floor was mesmerizing. It was made up of black and white diamond shapes that gave the illusion of a massive puzzle! And the illusion that the floor went on forever, which it probably did. There were four different grand staircases leading to their own hallways, that led to other levels—both above and below. She wanted to ask what floor they were actually standing on, but didn’t, and left it to the imagination. It was like some kind of elegant maze. A riddle, of sorts, with the question being, ‘Where do the hallways lead to?’

“I’ve been pushing this whole agenda about not being a groupie and all that, and here I am ready to cream about your damn house . . . if a house, is even what it can be called. Shit,” she gasped. “You probably have one of those fancy-ass names to call it, huh? Like Casa something or another?”

“Nah, just a crib.”

“Shiiit, this is far from, ‘just a crib’. This is beautiful, Quincy.”

“Thank you,” he said, walking her further inside. “I’m glad you like it.”

“MmmHmm,” she nodded while slowly taking in the full design of her surroundings. “Do I hear water?!” she asked.

“Is that a river or something down there?!”

“Nah,” he laughed. “Not a river, but yeah . . . water. Let’s go see it,” he said, leading the way.

“When did you get that tattoo on the back of your neck?” she queried, reaching to touch it. “What is that? Is that a pyramid with a third eye?”

“Yeah,” he said, retreating from her touch. “It’s been there.”

“No, it wasn’t. I would’ve noti . . .” Eve was preparing to disagree with his claim. However, when they reached the first of eight black marble stairs, her breath was taken away at the sight. “You gotta be kidding me,” she said, forgetting all else.

In front of her, was an indigo-illuminated indoor pool. High above the pool, was a glass ceiling, that brought outside, in. There were tall tree plants surrounding the area, giving it a tropical feel. In the distance, she spotted a large owl statue, with its wings spread. It was made of black marble, standing at the top of about seven-feet of steel.

“Wow . . . I mean, I don’t even have words for this. I would never leave here if this was my house. Ever.”

“Well, that’s good to know . . . because you won’t be leaving.”
What?! the voice inside her mind, screamed.

Eve’s eyes stretched wide, and the thin hairs all over her body stood at attention, when she realized that it wasn’t Quincy who spoke the cryptic words. The voice was different. She wanted to jerk around to find the owner of the voice, but something stopped her. Something about the tone of the voice. When Eve saw the blank stare in Quincy’s eyes, her antennas shot up.

“What the fuck is going on?” she whispered to him.
But she didn’t need him to answer her. She already knew. She knew that when she felt that gut instinct both on the plane, and off, she shouldn’t have ignored it. The tapping of her leg before the flight even landed. The nagging feeling that stuck to her like honey. She should have listened to it!

“Why are you asking him? I’m the one with the answers,” the person taunted, from one of the glossy black railings above. “Q!” he called out. “You can leave now.”
Without hesitation, Q turned on his heel.

“No, wait! Quincy, don’t go! Tell me what’s going on!” Eve screamed at his back as he began walking in the direction from which they had come. “Quincy! Please!”

“All the pleading in the world won’t save you from what I have planned. So, unless you’re doing it to test out your vocal chords, you might as well stop . . .”

Eve turned around to face a scary-looking man wearing a sports jacket, slacks, and expensive leather shoes. She seethed, shouting out, “Who the hell are you?! What is happening right now?!” She refused to show weakness in the face of the pompous white man.

He descended the stairs, a tight smirk across his face, his eyes never leaving her. Almost as if he was studying her or something. Suddenly, out of nowhere, two men were on either side of her, hovering.

“Now, now, Miss Adams, I could tell you who I am. But I’m willing to bet you already know the answer to that.”

“No, the fuck I don’t!” Eve charged.

“I don’t believe you. After all, it is my business you’ve signed on to be in the middle of. Did you not think I’d come for you? They should’ve done a better job of protecting you. Shame on them.”

The strange man had made his way to where Eve stood. She smelled bad energy all over him. It was a feeling she had never experienced before. He was pure evil, and that evil lurked proudly behind his aqua blue eyes. He was soulless. She saw it clearly. And with no soul, there was no remorse. She had no doubt that he was going to kill her, and not think twice about it.

At first, Eve refused to break her combative glare. Fuck you! she thought. However, just as quickly as that thought came, another one hit even quicker. Ego, had no place in this moment. She had a switch to flip—in the direction of her son. It was right then, with the realization she might never see Jaxson again, that tears began to fall down Eve’s face. Game over. She had failed. It was all for nothing and there was no rewinding the time. Nor was there an escape. And the fact that nobody knew where she was . . . might just seal her fate.