INFLUENCE

Chapter ELEVEN Morning light spilled through the tall windows of the Flushing Queens Mansion, bouncing off marble floors & glass surfaces like the house itself was watching her.    Yeturah was ready. Mirror check, after mirror check, after mirror check. She stood in front of the full-length mirror, hands adjusting herself automatically. Tugging the Christian Dior two-piece just right. The fabric clung to her body like it was custom-molded: stretch knit hugging her waist, cinching her curves, riding high on her hips. The top was cropped but intentional, structured enough to scream luxury, soft enough to feel sinful. The Dior logo reflected subtly, not loud - confidence that didn't need to shout.    Her island twist fell down her back, scalp freshly oiled, swinging every time she shifted her weight. She turned sideways, checked again. Front. Back. Chin up. Shoulders back. Skin glowing, J'adore lotion layered everywhere: arms, breast, stomach, legs, inner thighs, ass. She'd put it on slowly & deliberately, letting it warm under her palms before smoothing it in. Now she lifted the bottle of J'adore perfume, dabbed her wrist, neck, the hollow between her breast. The air smelled expensive.     Tina & Aisha were quiet at first, watching, appreciating. Tina loved how merciless & cold she could be. Aisha thrived on her conniving, devious ways. Both adored the confidence, fire & chaos Yeti carried. Smiling at her reflection she noticed her phone was going off nonstop. Shaderoom. Worldstar. AviLanezPodcastPage✔️. Tag after tag. Annoyed she tapped the notification she was tagged in so many times. The screen loaded & then her breath caught hard in her throat. A sex tape of Novi & Brittney in the Avi Lanez studio, the same area Novi pulled Yeti in to so many times between interviews & filler episodes. Heart breaking as she hears Brittney's moans "uhhhh Novi, ohhhh my godddd." Fans Comments: @citygirlcourt: nahhhhhh this is WILDDD 😳 @transvoices-global: see why black trans women don't trust nobody. SMDH @AviNation: Yeti about to crash out 🤦🏻‍♀️ I'm scared but I'm also seated 👀 @lanezloyalclub: He bout to have theses trannies boxing it out. Idc idc idc he grown 😌 @gossipqueen: why do I feel like this was dropped on PURPOSE. Y'all know my baby Yeti is off the hinges.    Her chest tightened."...WHAT THE FUCK." The room tilted. Heat rushed through her veins, fast & violent. Her hands started shaking, the phone slipped from her grip & hit the floor. Screen still glowing & playing the tape. The fit came fast. Yanking the Dior top over her head, followed by ripping off the skirt, kicking off her heels, ripping & scattering her jewelry. The clothes that took hours to pick out now meant nothing. Ruined by the betrayal & humiliated. Her breathing turned sharp, erratic. Tina leaned in, voice icy. Almost a hiss. "Oh... This nigga wanna play." Aisha smirked, whispering with that conniving edge. "Let's show him how it's done." Yeturah paced the mansion, digging her nails in her palms. Her mind flashing between beating Brittney's ass, the sound of Novi fucking her, the way Novi's name was now a sour taste. She forgot about her makeup appointment & lash appointment. Somehow still giving bad bitch, emotionally gone. Brooklyn's POV: Clocking out early, loving the perks of being an owner. Her bob was sleek, pressed to perfection, barely grazing her shoulders when she moved. She wore a Prada set - tailored, structured, soft pink undertones balanced with authority. Feminine but firm, HBIC without trying. Her skin smelled like Paradoxe body lotion & perfume, clean & polished. Anxiety buzzed quietly beneath her ribs, but work helped today - paperwork, emails, legal drafts. Structure being her therapy.    She was buried in documents when Rye quietly stepped out of her office, cleaning cart rolling behind him. Brooklyn didn't even notice - she was wrapped in the newspaper spread already covering Rosé ownership, rereading it. When Romare walked in to the office, he closed the door & locked it behind him. Brooklyn looked up & smiled. He was a distraction from everything. "Hey" she said softly. Romare didn't smile back, "Why the fuck is he still here?" Her brow furrowed. "Who?" Romare responded frustrated "the janitor!" Brooklyn's tone stayed low & controlled. "Romare" he cut her off "you fired everybody else." Straightening in her chair, she replied "I fired staff & kept who I wanted, last time I checked I'm the owner of this firm now." Romare's jaw tightened, voice stayed low & sharp. "So you don't see the way he looks at you?" He questioned with a raised eyebrow. Brooklyn's anxiety spiked but she didn't crumble. "You need to remember where you are, I'm not giving him the attention he's looking for but that's neither here nor there." Silence stretched. Then Romare mumbled under his breath "unbelievable" storming out the office. On the way down the hall, he stopped Rye "stay away from her." Rye blinked, caught off guard, not backing down. Romare didn't wait for an answer, he exited Rosé & got in his delivery truck. Brooklyn exhaled slowly, hands trembling just a little. The city was loud. The internet was louder. Both women stood at the center of it - mirrors cracked, glass shaking, influence intact.