Pride, p.1
Pride, page 1
Praise for WRATH
“In the fourth installment of her Seven Deadly Sins series… Murray delivers another intense morality tale…. Offer Murray’s novel to readers who are looking for gritty Christian romantic suspense about love gone wrong.”
—Booklist
Praise for ENVY
“[Envy] captures the drama of The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills while also bringing this well-developed work of urban fiction to a satisfyingly redemptive conclusion.”
—Kristina Giovanni, Booklist
Praise for LUST
“Murray has penned hot, steamy scenes in which her protagonist’s imagination runs wild, followed by the consequences of her realizing her dangerous dreams. A jarring twist at the end has the reader wondering who the good guys really are.”
—Booklist (starred review)
“Murray mixes quite a bit of passion, a touch of treachery, and some good old-fashioned revenge.”
—Library Journal
“Keeps you at the edge of your seat until the last page.”
—Urban Reviews Online
“A topsy-turvy tale of passion on steroids.”
—Essence
Praise for STAND YOUR GROUND
“Murray has written a tension-packed novel around the hotbuzz national topic of an unarmed black youth shot by a white male, an act then subjected to the Stand Your Ground rule as a legal defense tactic…. Murray’s writing admirably shows the often overlooked human emotions following racial violence…. The pulled-from-the-headlines story line will captivate readers.”
—Library Journal (starred review)
“Murray, winner of several African American Literary Awards for fiction, powerfully captures the nuances and tragedies engendered by stand-your-ground laws. A must-read.”
—Booklist (starred review)
“Using a vivid, realistic premise, [Murray] takes a 360-degree view to bring all sides to the forefront for us to enjoy, learn from, judge, and celebrate. Stand Your Ground has great literary relevance for our time.”
—USA Today
Praise for FOREVER AN EX
“Murray spices up her story line with plenty of juicy scandals…. Readers seeking an inspirational tale with broad themes of trust, betrayal, and forgiveness will do well by choosing Murray’s latest effort.”
—Library Journal
Praise for FORTUNE & FAME
“The scandalous characters unite again in Fortune & Fame, Murray and Billingsley’s third and best collaboration. This time brazen Jasmine and Rachel, who has zero shame, have been cast on First Ladies, a reality TV show that builds one’s brand and threatens to break another’s marriage. Sorry, buttered popcorn is not included.”
—Essence
“Priceless trash talk marks this story about betrayal, greed, and stepping on anyone in your way. A great choice for folks who spend Sunday mornings in the front pew.”
—Library Journal
Praise for NEVER SAY NEVER
“Readers, be on the lookout for Victoria Christopher Murray’s Never Say Never. You’ll definitely need to have a buddy-reader in place for the lengthy discussion that is bound to occur.”
—USA Today
Praise for THE EX FILES
“The engrossing transitions the women go through make compelling reading…. Murray’s vivid portrait of how faith can move mountains and heal relationships should inspire.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Reminds you of things that women will do if their hearts are broken…. Once you pick this book up, you will not put it down.”
—Urban Reviews Online
Praise for DESTINY’S DIVAS
“With Destiny’s Divas, author Victoria Christopher Murray triumphs again. The depth and storytelling mastery in her latest novel demonstrate why she is the grande dame of urban Christian fiction.”
—FreshFiction.com
Praise for SINNERS & SAINTS
“Murray and Billingsley keep things lively and fun.”
—Juicy magazine
“Double the fun, with a message of faith, Sinners & Saints will delight readers with two of their favorite characters from two of their favorite authors. It’s a match made in heaven!”
—Grace magazine
Praise for THE DEAL, THE DANCE, AND THE DEVIL
“Murray’s story has the kind of momentum that prompts you to elbow disbelief aside and flip the pages in horrified enjoyment.”
—The Washington Post
Praise for SINS OF THE MOTHER
“Final word: Christian fiction with a powerful kick.”
—Afro.com
Praise for LADY JASMINE
“She’s back! Jasmine has wreaked havoc in three VCM novels, including last year’s Too Little, Too Late. In Lady Jasmine, the schemer everyone loves to loathe breaks several commandments by the third chapter.”
—Essence
“Jasmine is the kind of character who doesn’t sit comfortably on a page. She’s the kind who jumps inside a reader’s head, runs around, and stirs up trouble—the kind who stays with the reader long after the last page is turned.”
—The Huntsville (AL) Times
Praise for TOO LITTLE, TOO LATE
“[In this book] there are so many hidden messages about love, life, faith, and forgiveness. Murray’s vividness of faith is inspirational.”
—The Clarion-Ledger (Jackson, MS)
“An excellent entry in the Jasmine Larson Bush Christian Lit saga; perhaps the best so far…. Fans will appreciate this fine tale… a well-written intense drama.”
—Midwest Book Review
Praise for A SIN AND A SHAME
“Riveting, emotionally charged, and spiritually deep…. What is admirable is the author’s ability to hold the reader in suspense until the very last paragraph of the novel! A Sin and a Shame is a must-read…. Truly a story to be enjoyed and pondered upon!”
—RomanceinColor.com
“A Sin and a Shame is Victoria Christopher Murray at her best…. A page-turner that I couldn’t put down as I was too eager to see what scandalous thing Jasmine would do next. And to watch Jasmine’s spiritual growth was a testament to Victoria’s talents. An engrossing tale of how God’s grace covers us all. I absolutely loved this book!”
—ReShonda Tate Billingsley, Essence bestselling author of I Know I’ve Been Changed
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1
He’s the one who got away!
I stood at the threshold of Ethan’s office in the prestigious Williams Towers, where he sat behind his mahogany desk with only the dim light of the desk lamp illuminating the space.
It was a wonder he didn’t hear me enter; he should certainly be more aware of his surroundings at this time of night. Although I guessed with a thirty-second-floor office in this zip code, there were no concerns about safety. And I knew how Ethan was when he focused. Without even a glimpse of his brown eyes, I imagined his expression—thoughtful—as he studied the papers on his desk. A legal brief, perhaps?
For a moment longer, I stood staring at the man I once loved. And then something stirred inside me. Once loved? Everything I felt for Ethan Thomas was supposed to be long gone, severed by the last words he’d spoken to me before he walked out of my door.
But now old emotions collided with common sense and exploded into confusion. I wasn’t sure what to feel. There was a time when something would have stirred inside Ethan, just having me in such close proximity. But now… I guessed not.
I tapped on the door. Ethan raised his head, and his shoulders straightened.
“I’m sorry,” I said when he didn’t speak. Stepping inside, I added more to my apology: “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
His eyes followed me as I sauntered toward him, but still, he said nothing, and I tried to discern what I saw in his eyes. If his complexion were lighter, I believe I would’ve seen the heat rising beneath his skin. Or maybe just the opposite; maybe I would have watched the blood drain from him, since the way his eyes widened and his brows shot up, he looked like he’d seen a ghost.
Finally, his lips moved. “Journee…” He still said my name like it was the opening notes of a love song. “What… what are you doing here?”
Slipping my shawl from my shoulders, I tossed it onto one of the high-back vintage chairs facing his desk. But I remained standing. “It’s good to see you, too, Ethan,” I said, as if he’d expected this visit.
He shook his head before he stood, then buttoned his suit jacket, always needing to look composed. He said, “I’m surprised.”
“I can understand that.”
“Security didn’t… um… call to tell me you were coming up.”
“That’s because I didn’t stop at security.” With a shrug and a half smile, I said, “You know how I do.”
I didn’t give him a chance to reply as I moved to the massive windows behind his desk. The floor-to-ceiling glass exposed the still-somewhat-heavy traffic on the 610 freeway—even if it was already well after eight. Life in Houston, especially on the Thursday night before Labor Day. My eyes made their way to the gushing fountains below. That tourist attraction was a more beautiful sight in the night’s light.
“What an amazing view.” Glancing back, I took in the expansive corner office with its wall-to-wall windows. The mahogany furniture alone—the desk, chairs, credenza—could be a down payment on a home. “I like your new office. You’ve done well.” I wanted to add a question to my compliment. Ask if he had any regrets that here, in his own law firm, was where he’d ended up instead of pursuing his political dreams.
He nodded, then gestured toward the chairs. “So, when are we going to talk about why you’re here?”
“Now is good.” I took my time rounding his desk, my hips swaying, knowing his eyes were on me. I’d dressed for this occasion. He was seeing me for the first time in almost fifteen hundred days, so I’d chosen this purple (his favorite color) Chanel (his favorite designer) wrap dress. When I sat down and crossed my legs, I watched him watch the hemline of my skirt rise. He cleared his throat before he sat down but didn’t make a move to add more light to his office. Just left us sitting there, staring at each other in the glow of the lamp on his desk. It felt almost… sensual. It seemed almost… purposeful.
He said, “So, I know you weren’t just in the neighborhood.”
“Actually, I was. I just finished a business dinner at Roka Akor.” His head tilted at the mention of that four-star restaurant, but I didn’t elaborate. There was no need for Ethan to know this was at least the twelfth dinner I’d had over the past three months as I pursued a multimillion-dollar city contract—the WestPark revitalization project—for my firm.
When I stayed silent, Ethan asked, “And so, you decided to drop by on your way home?”
“Not heading home. Not yet. I have to stop at my office, and that’s not too far from here.”
“Your office is in River Oaks, not the Galleria.”
That made me sit back a bit. “I know why I knew where you worked, but I didn’t send out announcements, the way you did, when I opened J. Alexander and Associates.” I paused. “You’ve been keeping tabs on me?” There was joviality in my tone, but I was more serious than not. It pleased me that I was still on his mind.
He shook his head, a bit too quickly for me to believe him when he said, “No, I just know someone in your building and saw your name on the directory. But I know you didn’t come here to discuss that.” He pressed the tips of his fingers together, and I recognized that stance. “So, Journee, this isn’t a social visit.”
I nodded. “It’s not.” I took a deep breath before I said, “I need your help.”
His eyebrows rose. “You need my help?”
Now the chuckle was in his tone, which annoyed me, and I half expected Ethan to launch into a lecture about how surprised he was to hear those words come from me.
I was grateful when he didn’t add anything else, and I pulled my cell from my purse, scrolled through my texts, then held the cell so Ethan could read the screen.
You’re going to spend the next twenty years in prison. Vengeance is mine.
Ethan’s eyes stayed on my phone as if he was reading the message a few times. Finally, he sat back and gestured for me to speak.
I said, “I’ve been getting messages like these for a few weeks. It’s weird. I’ll get a message like that, and then another one, like this.” Once again, I held up my cell.
This time, when Ethan leaned forward, he read the text aloud: “ ‘The prudent see danger and take refuge, but the simple keep going and pay the penalty. Vengeance is mine.’ ” He paused, raised his glance toward the ceiling as if he was thinking. “The first part is Proverbs 27:12.”
Impressive. But Ethan being a man of God was just one of the thousands of reasons I had for once loving him. Once?
“But the ‘vengeance is mine’… that’s New Testament. Romans 12:19.” He steadied his glance on me.
“Every text ends with that scripture.”
He said, “So someone is sending you scriptures.”
“Scriptures and threats,” I told him.
“Who could be sending these to you?”
I half shrugged. “The first time, I called the number, and all I heard was white noise, like the number was out of service. Since then, every text comes from a different number.”
Ethan nodded. “A texting app. So, why would someone be sending these to you?”
Again I shrugged, but this time rather than meeting his eyes, I glanced at the view over his shoulder. “I don’t know… I’m not sure.”
“Journee,” he said. This time, my name didn’t sound like music at all. Sounded more like Ethan was losing patience with me.
I connected my eyes with his. “Did you hear about Simon’s arrest?”
He stared at me, and I waited for him to say something like, I told you so. But all Ethan said about the man who’d been my mentor, the man who’d taught me everything I knew about being a real estate broker, the man who’d made it so that I had the kind of lifestyle I could never have imagined when my mama had my sister and me wandering around the streets of Houston homeless, was “Yeah, I heard. A multimillion-dollar fraud investigation of one of the city’s most notable residents is hard to miss in these streets. Not to mention how his arrest was a ratings draw for the media.” His eyes narrowed. “But what does Simon’s arrest have to do with those texts?”
I wondered just how much I should say at this point. “I got the first text the day Simon was arrested. I think it’s all connected; someone is trying to link me to Simon and all his troubles.”
His gaze was steadfast. “Are you linkable?”
I squinted. Was that an accusation in his tone? “No,” I said. “I left Simon”—my voice lowered—“and all his schemes behind. I left him not too long after you left me.”
I half expected Ethan to say, You finally listened, but instead he said, “I’m glad to hear that.” Then he cocked his head. “So then, why are you here? Because from what you’ve said so far, you certainly don’t need me.”
A thousand memories of the millions of times I’d spoken those words to Ethan cascaded through my mind. But rushing in right behind the memories of the few times we fought were all the moments we loved.
Dang! I was thinking about our love again. I sighed; it was amazing that all it took was this man’s presence, and my heart was racing back to the past. Now all I could think about was that Ethan Thomas was the first man I loved—actually, the only man besides my daddy.
And Ethan had loved me, until he didn’t anymore. Or at least until he told me that he loved himself and his career more.
The heaviness of what we once were hung in the air, but finally, I responded, “I do need you.”
Ethan was stone-still, as if those four words shocked him. Four words he’d waited years for me to say. He finally said, “How do you think I can help?”
“I need to find out who’s sending these texts. I need to know what they may know so I can figure out if I’m in any true jeopardy when it comes to Simon.”
His eyes thinned. “If you left Simon, what would someone know?”
“I did… I mean… I just wonder…” I stuttered, then took a deep breath. “I’m sure this has something to do with my past business dealings. Not with how I conduct myself today.”
He nodded. “Well, if you want to find out who’s sending those texts, you need a private investigator.” He leaned forward as if he wanted his next words to make a point. “But… you don’t need me.”
Inside, I flinched. He’d been waiting a long time to punish me with words I’d always said to him. Had my words in the past slashed him with the same sharpness I just felt?
“I know what I need,” I said through my hurt. “And I know who I need. I need an attorney, a criminal defense attorney, the best criminal defense attorney in Texas.” I held up my hands to proclaim my innocence. “Just in case. You know I’m always prepared.” I paused. “And I came to you because you just handled Sara Nelson’s case.”
