Coup: The French Connection Series, Book 2

By Brooklyn Knight

What happens when Interracial Love and Afrocentrism collide?

All Dylan Hamilton knows is that he loves the vivacious and vibrant Laila Renaud, and would do anything to make her happy; including support her decision to work at the firm owned by his arch nemesis, Michael Sawyer.

All Laila Renaud knows is that Dylan Hamilton means the world to her, and there has never been another man to love and support her, the way he does.

But the minute Michael Sawyer lays eyes on Dylan's prized possessions - both his woman and his firm - his blinding rage and jealousy ignite, driving him to bring an end to their 'unnatural' relationship and force Dylan to his knees.

Will Dylan and Laila be able to defend their special love?

Or will Michael be successful in getting them to doubt everything they think they know about each other... and themselves?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Brooklyn Knight
• Release date: May 14, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005781903

Brooklyn Knight

Brooklyn Knight is a romance enthusiast who lives in the island of Bermuda and has been writing stories since she was a little girl. Over the years, her gift for designing and bringing characters to life has evolved, and she enjoys creating vivid, memorable characters and unforgettable situations. Her characters are thought-provoking and evocative; and they will draw emotion out of you like water from a well.

Book preview

Chapter One

Michael

‘We Are Now’

Who is that? The question passed my lips in an intrigued whisper.

The woman who was the center of attention, walked across the stage with an elegance and grace that she could only have been born with. I observed the splendor of her details: petite frame, proportionate curves, cute face. She was the epitome of a beautiful, black female and the powerful curiosity I’d developed in a matter of minutes was mind-boggling.

Sasha, my assistant, leaned close. Her name is Laila Renaud, she answered, tone tight "She’s Johnson and Wales’s top student. She was also the intern at Hamilton Associates..."

My eyes swung to meet hers. The intern who – l

You know the one. She flicked her braids and pursed her lips.

My eyes narrowed and I scanned the rows of seats until I saw him. He was four rows ahead of me, a fact that irritated me beyond measure in and of itself. Everyone knew that seating was akin to status. The fact that he was front and center would only feed his fucking ego; but when I caught a glimpse of the way he was looking after her – like a dog in an SPCA kennel searching for an owner – something deep inside me burned.

I stroked my beard. So that’s Dylan Hamilton’s little plaything? I was talking to myself.

Dylan Hamilton and his boys at Hamilton Associates had done a fine job of keeping the sordid story under wraps; the story of how he’d been fucking a university student and even proposed to her. The word on the street was that he’d gone all the way to France to buy her a custom Carterime Durand ring.

My gaze shot to her left hand as she waved into the whooping crowd.

The finger was empty today. Either it was part of the ruse, or the entire rumor was false, but I had a feeling that it was the latter. His posture told the story. His shoulders were rigid, his jaw was tight. Dylan Hamilton either wanted this woman, Laila Renaud, her or he’d already had her.

Both scenarios angered me beyond reason.

I peered at Miss Renad and leaned over to Sasha again. I want to meet her, I whispered the order. At the gala tonight, find her and bring her to me. I’d like to introduce myself.

Introduce yourself?

A deafening round of applause sounded as they announced her name and the president of the university handed her a degree interrupted what would have been my response.

I ignored Sasha’s sarcasm and clapped along with the masses.

I didn’t realize we were hiring, Michael, she said flicking her braids again. That’s the only legitimate reason you’d have to meet her.

I chuckled, loving the excuse my personal assistant had given me to get up close and personal to the beautiful woman who’d captured my rival’s attention. We weren’t, I confirmed, but we are now.

Chapter Two

Dylan

‘Sworn Nemesis’

My eyes were pinned onto her.

Fastened.

Laila Renaud made her way across the stage, but even beneath the slack graduation gown, I still detected the sensual swell of her hips and the mesmerizing roll of her ass. I took in every aspect of her perfection, from her creamy caramel skin and her bright, vibrant eyes, to her perky breasts, which were pressing against the gown.

My cock jerked.

Shit…

Only she could do this to me. It didn’t matter what she wore, Laila had a way of turning me up one thousand degrees. During her internship she’d always been impeccably dressed: tailored pants suits with jackets that flared just above her snatched waist; pencil skirts that highlighted her hourglass shape, and silk necktie blouses that emphasized the gracefulness of her neck. Laila was a small fille, yet her ratio of curves was astounding; and the way she carried herself commanded respect and attention.

My attention…

I tried to focus on other things, like the names of other graduates or the schedule of events. After all, I was one of the guests of honor. I’d offered the most coveted internship position to one of the university’s students. The last thing I should have been doing was slavering after the woman crossing the stage. I was supposed to be clapping my hands, offering congratulatory smiles; yet the only thing I could do was gawk and anticipate what was to come.

Six hours, ma belle fille…

She looks great.

My business partner’s words barely sliced into my lewd thoughts, but I pulled my eyes away just long enough to give him the impression I was paying attention.

She looks amazing, Cater, I muttered. "She is amazing, but of course, you know how I feel about her." I lowered my voice to add that part and Carter grunted; but a small smile tugged the edges of his lips.

Yes, I know, he admitted. "And you know how I feel about that. For Christ’s sake, when you said you were in love with the intern, I didn’t think you were serious!"

Well, know you know, was my succinct reply. I’m as serious about Laila Renaud as I am about my next paycheck, I stated. The best suggestion you ever made was when you insisted I bring her on."

Carter rubbed the back of his neck. The jury is still out on that. His tone was wary. But I can’t deny that the two of you are doing the right thing by keeping this little affair of yours on the hush. Until news of the wedding breaks, that is…

Don’t worry about that. We’ll be ready.

Suddenly, the President of the university declared Laila’s name, followed by a slew of accolades – summa cum laude, first in class, valedictorian – and my eyes flew back to the stage. I rose to my feet and joined the masses in congratulations. My heart swelled until I was certain it would come through my shirt. The smile Laila wore brightened her entire face and my life; and when our eyes locked, a searing heat ripped through me.

I ran my thumb across the edge of my mouth and pressed my back against the seat as she disappeared from the stage.

Six more hours…

* * *

Later that evening, I was sitting in the back of a sleek limo, being whisked to the grand City Hall Convention Center, where Johnson and Wales University was hosting an elegant gala in honor of its graduates. I whipped out my cell phone and scanned the various text messages which had accumulated over the last thirty minutes.

Carter, Brenneman, Stefan…

I mumbled the names to myself and flipped each of the screens closed before opening a new one. My fingers hovered over the phone’s face for a second and I smirked.

Me: 4 more hours…

Ma Belle Fille: You’re so nasty, Mr. Hamilton.

I smirked, liking her response. I also liked the physiological response that came wth reading her messages.

My fingers flew over the screen: The dress I bought you, are you wearing it?

Ma Belle Fille: Yes sir.

Me: And underneath…

Ma Belle Fille: You’ll find out in 4 hours.

I shoved the phone back into the inside of my dinner jacket and rested my back against the leather seat as the limo wheeled through the streets. Soon, it was pulling up at the front of City Hall.

Sir, we’ve arrived. Without saying anything more, my right-hand man, Ignacio, parked and hopped out to open my door.

I offered him a grateful nod before setting one spectacularly polished Oxford onto the sidewalk and hoisting myself out of the car. I tugged on the hem of my white dinner jacket and trotted up the front steps towards the entrance to look for my buddy, Stefan. Immediately, people whispered and pointed, but I brushed past them with only one thing on my mind.

The place was filled to the brim and buzzing with graduates, their families and my contemporaries, who, like me, had supported the university both fiscally and in terms of physical presence. I stretched my neck above the multitude when I saw Stefan’s raised hand alerting me to his location, though his meticulous afro would give him away every time.

I started towards him, but then I saw her approaching and everything went in slow motion. The gold, sleek gown I’d purchased looked like a shimmering second skin. It clung to her body just the way I knew it would, and it slinked down her length until it pooled on the floor. A deep v-cut in the rear revealed the sexy crease of her toned back, and another one in the front teased the eye with the tantalizing swell of her buttery-brown breasts. Her hair had been snatched into a ponytail during the graduation, but now it was in an array of curls and pinned up high, so that I could get an unobstructed view of her throat.

In a matter of seconds, our energies synchronized.

Laila’s lips fell open, the nude gloss on them making them look like prepared peaches. Her eyebrows drew and her posture slackened. Her expression turned tortured.

I knew that expression very well…

I inhaled, feeling my cock expand against the fabric of my pants.

Three-and-a-half more hours…

I nodded respectfully before forcing myself to continue in Stefan’s direction, lest I accost Laila and take her to the top of the building like a Godzilla.

When I approached, Stefan took me into a strong hug, and we slapped each other on the backs.

Right so…. He cleared his throat and tugged at his skinny tie. I’m just gonna go ahead and act like I didn’t see that eye-action, because I’m sure that if I was a total stranger, and not your best friend who is fully aware of everything that is going on between you and your former intern, that’s what you’d want me to do. He pushed his lips out and pressed them against his glass.

I rolled my eyes and grabbed a flute of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter. I have no idea what you’re talking about.

Come the fuck on, Dylan, he charged me laughing. I’m your brother-from-another-mother. I’ve known you since undergrad!

What’s your point?

"That I know you, he answered. I know your body language and I know what you’re thinking without you saying a word." He tossed in head in Ma Belle Fille’s direction, That hot and heavy exchange between you and Laila Renaud is electric, he said. The two of you are acting like you don’t know each other from a hole in the fucking wall, but I’m not sure if it’s working. You’re about to set this place on fire!

Then let it burn to the ground, I said. Besides, that was the agreement. We arrive and leave separately. The last thing we need is people speculating, thinking that I have anything to do with how amazing she is. I can only imagine what tomorrow’s tabloid headlines would be if they saw us leave together. I scoffed.

The truth was, I couldn’t care less what anyone would say or think if they knew the truth about Laila and me. In fact, I was plotting ways to lure her into one of the lavish restrooms – women’s or men’s, I didn’t give a shit – so I could peel that golden dress off her body and see what color lingerie she was wearing tonight.

The raunchy text messages soared into my mind and my cock jerked.

You have a point, Stefan agreed. And based on the few things you’ve told me about her, it’s sounds like she’d have it no other way. She gave you a run for your money from the very beginning.

Another reason I loved her. The cat and mouse thing had turned me primal. I’d been no less than a caveman. It had been nothing to obliterate any obstacle that presented itself.

She’s driven, Stef, I reminded him. Even if I’d wanted to, Laila wouldn’t let me influence her professional progress – and I tried.

I know you did, Stefan nodded.

She’s not one of these gold-digging bimbos, looking for a wealthy crutch, I continued, mentally listing off all the reasons I wanted her in my life. She’s perfect for me. I wouldn’t want her any other way.

We fell silent, each of us nursing our champagne, as I engaged in the mundane pleasantries that came with being one of the most influential businessmen in Miami. A few of my contemporaries meandered over to discuss Wall Street’s performance, and several graduates introduced themselves to me, verbally vomiting their resumes.

I congratulated them and forwarded them to my Human Resources department, even though the firm wasn’t hiring. Besides, if I was going to hire anyone, it would have been Laila Renaud, but she didn’t want to work at Hamilton Associates.

The thought grated me, but I let it go, the way I had when we’d first had the tension-laced conversation.

Stefan’s elbow against my ribs pulled me out of my thoughts. Well, lookie there… he whispered pushing chin forward.

My eyes shifted across the room and my face turned to stone when I saw Michael Sawyer, my sworn nemesis, standing cocky in the distance. His pompous vibe radiated towards me and my lip curled.

But that wasn’t the thing that had me about to spit nails. I watched him walk up to Laila and another level indignation slammed into me.

My jaw clenched and I sipped my wine in an attempt to wet my drying throat.

Relax, Dyl, Stefan advised, staring at our mutual target.

Do I seem uptight?

Hell yes. He stretched his neck and couldn’t help but think he should take his own damn advice.

Still…

What the fuck is he doing? O whispered.

Doesn’t matter, Stefan answered. The real question is, since when have you been intimidated by anyone, especially Michael fucking Sawyer? Dude is jealous of you, plain and simple. Been that way since university. He shrugged, like none of it mattered.

You’re right, I agreed. My lips hardly moved. He hasn’t changed since graduate school. Still cocky –

Still covetous.

A fucking asshole. I turned my gaze away so I wouldn’t have to look at him anymore.

Stefan shook his head. "The two of you never did set. He used to watch everything you did and try to one-up you. He wanted to be you, though he’d never admit that. Stefan grunted. Hell, the way he’s always on about ‘the white man’, it’s no wonder he can’t stand your guts!"

My eyes thinned and I turned back to look again.

Now he was in Laila’s face, and Ma Belle Fille stood stoic in front of him. It was the same way she’d acted when we’d first met. It had taken a little less than an army to convince her that if she gave ‘us’ a chance, she could have it all.

Sawyer’s laugh resonated through City Hall.

A sour taste filled my mouth.

Stefan dipped his head forward. I’ve been made to understand he’s been eating the crumbs that fall off the Hamilton Associates’ table, he said.

I shrugged. They all do, I spat. Good for him. It just confirms that he’ll forever be one step behind me. I’m not concerned about Michael Sawyer.

I know you’re not, but I still I don’t trust him.

Neither do I, I confirmed, which is why I deliberately keep my distance. The only time I see him is at charity events. We’re cordial, but even that requires a considerable amount of effort. As long as he doesn’t touch what’s mine, I…

The words evaporated off my tongue when I noticed Laila’s brightening smile and the firm handshake she offered the man.

The edges of my eyes quivered and Stefan frowned.

What the fuck was that? he asked.

The muscle in my jaw twitched.

I had no goddamn idea.

Chapter Three

Dylan

‘Release Me’

It was 1 AM.

I headed for my limo, which was parked in a secure area of the City Hall lot. Laila and I had effectively maintained our distance for the majority of the night, though her conversation with Sawyer had me ready to yank her into a private corner.

What the hell had he said that had warranted her smile and a handshake?

Why the fuck had he approached her in the first place?

I wanted to know. It had taken everything in me not to pull her to the side and ask these questions and more; but that would contravene our agreement, and Laila was firm on her stance about business. Under normal circumstances, so was I, but when it came to Laila…

I looked at my Patek Philippe as the Mercedes drew up to the curb and Ignacio stepped out to perform his duty. He opened the back door for me, and I thanked him with a gracious nod, before ducking my head and slipping into the back seat.

I pulled out my cell phone to message Laila, but before I could get it out of my pocket, my nose pricked.

In an instant, a certain aroma – fruity, floral, musky – arrested me and a small hand snaked over my thigh.

Who are you messaging?

My hand slackened around the device and I stared into Laila’s flashing eyes.

Her hand inched up to my already expanding anatomy and she squeezed my cock.

You’re not supposed to be in here, I reminded her. The reporters are still on the premises. If anyone saw you –

I don’t care about anyone, she declared.

Neither do I…

Then shut up and fuck me, Dylan. Laila crawled over the seat and into my lap. The gold gown slid up to reveal her honey-brown thighs as she straddled me, eyes low and heavy.

I pressed a button to black out all the windows as the limo pulled away. Your language isn’t becoming of a Valedictorian, I mumbled, slipping the expensive material off her bra-less breasts with shaking hands.

My mouth watered and I swallowed.

I dipped my mouth to one of the tight nipples and took it against my tongue. A sated breath fled from my nostrils. I ran my tongue over the point of her nipple before sucking it into my mouth. The woman was sweet all over. This was my second favorite part of her body. My most favorite part was…

My hand slid up her leg until I was at her center.

Heat greeted me and she moaned.

No fucking panties.

We have thirty more minutes, I reminded her in a low growl against her lips. I ran my tongue across the bottom one – my favorite one. But you’ve pushed me too far now. I slipped two fingers inside of her and her neck stretched back.

The car whizzed through the streets.

Dylan… she moaned.

I smirked. "You’re that hungry for me, ma belle fille? I asked rhetorically. You couldn’t wait until we got home?" I continued to touch her center.

Reviews for Coup

[RedHobo · Rating: 2 out of 5 stars]

This story had me scratching my head. It was really a miss for me. Laila turned into some stupid, clueless woman who doesn't know a single thing about the world until someone pointed it out to her and that disappointed me to no end. 'Ethnic hair'? African dresses?! Really, woman ? What kind of white nonsense is it????!!! Michael was a walking caricature of the 'angry and spiteful black man' who made a mockery of blackness with all of is afro centric mumbo jumbo about 'brothers' and 'sisters'. And the whole Dylan learning about Laila's background had me rolling my eyes hard! And don't get me to the business side of that drama that was unrealistic as possible. Like girlfriend got promoted after 3 months to the Board and then flipped it like she's been doing it for decades???! What a waste of perfectly decent characters.