It was midday and the sun beamed down on the surface of the oil rig, which was owned and controlled by Sinclair Enterprises. It sat in the middle of the ocean and the beautiful blue water just below them was a sight to see. The state-of-the-art rig stretched just over four hundred feet, about the size of two football fields. Six people had just gotten out of a helicopter and walked onto the platform. They all were wearing professional attire and had clipboards in hand, all except the two men who led the bunch. All wore yellow hard hats and they followed the gentlemen as they explained the sophisticated logistics of their operation. The two men out front were father-and-son duo West and August Sinclair Sr. One wouldn’t guess them to be father and son because of the shades of their skin; however, blood wouldn’t have made them any closer. West Sinclair was a thirty-something-year-old black man, and his father, August Sinclair Sr., who everyone simply called “Senior,” was a tall, slim Caucasian man with long legs and a diamond-encrusted belt buckle that glistened in the light. His full beard was snow white and his teeth matched the shade. His eyes were deep-sea blue and his voice was deep, textured, and even. West and Senior led the way, taking their time while giving the group a mandatory tour. Both West and Senior wore snakeskin cowboy boots with spurs, a Texas staple that symbolized wealth. They both wore big straw hats as well, rounding out their cowboy look.
As they moved about the rig, the group of people held clipboards while making observations and jotting down notes. West wore Wrangler jeans with a dress shirt; his sleeves were rolled up as he described the daily routine of their workers. Senior was letting his adopted son lead the conversation. West expertly broke down the logistics of the company’s operation, making sure he covered every possible regulation and assuring them their rig was run with care and up to code.
“We run maintenance on all of our machinery once a week to ensure safety,” West said as he tipped his hard hat to a maintenance worker who was on a ladder tending to a lift.
“That’s right. Here at Sinclair, we make sure employee safety is our top priority,” Senior added as he stopped and turned to face the group of inspectors that trailed him. Just as West was about to follow up about their new lighting systems, the sound of loud music sounded. Also, the roaring of an oncoming speedboat engine filled the air. All eyes went toward the water as the shiny, sleek watercraft sliced through the water, causing a steady splash. The logo SE was on the side of the speedboat, making it crystal clear who the boat belonged to. Senior’s biological son, August, drove the boat. He was shirtless, belligerent, and loud, splashing a big wave of ocean water onto the platform as he whipped next to it recklessly. He almost crashed the boat into the rig but missed it by only inches.
The speakers blared Pop Smoke and a half dozen girls danced and twerked their asses to the beat. Another girl held a bottle of champagne to August’s mouth and poured it down his throat as he gripped the steering wheel. Instantly the inspectors all looked at each other, growing confused. The expression on Senior’s face told a thousand words. His naturally pale face turned plum red and his insides boiled at the sight of his drunken son. He was instantly embarrassed and ashamed. West noticed his father’s rage, although he remained expressionless. He knew him well enough to know that his fire was going on his insides and quickly moved to try to rectify and calm the situation. He leaned into his father and put his lips near Senior’s right ear.
“I got it, Pops.” West patted him on the back.
Senior clenched his jaw tightly and shot a look to his son. He wanted to say something to him, but he understood it wasn’t the right time. He just plastered a fake smile on his face and looked at the inspectors.
“Let me direct you guys over here to the new drills we had installed,” Senior said as he pointed toward the southern part of the rig, which was opposite of where August was. West gave the group a huge smile and spoke.
“Pardon me for a sec.” He removed his cowboy hat and placed it on his chest. As he watched the crowd move away, West’s smile slowly became a frown. He spun on the spurs of his heels and beelined directly to August, who was drinking champagne as he looked down at the young, sexy, ebony girl twerking on him. He watched her ass wobble on his pelvis area. Her big cheeks shook, waves traveling through her ass like a tsunami.
“Aye! Aye! Aye!” the group yelled in unison as they cheered the girl on. West walked briskly over to the edge of the dock and looked over his shoulder to the inspectors to make sure they were out of earshot.
“What the fuck are you doing, bro?” West said under his breath and harshly as his face frowned in displeasure.
“Bro! What’s good?” he asked as he briefly took his eyes off the fat ass in front of him.
“Why in the fuck would you pull up to the rig like this?” West hopped onto the boat and stepped in August’s face. The girls immediately stopped dancing. He then reached past August to push the boat speaker’s off button, causing the music to die.
“Chill the fuck out, bro. I just needed some gas and decided to pull up,” August said with a dumb-looking smile across his mug. West shook his head in disappointment as he realized August was wasted.
“You have to move smarter. This ain’t it, kid,” West said as he shook his head and stepped off the boat, back onto the rig.
“Man, you sound like the old man. You gotta relax.”
“No, nigga, you relax!” West said, raising his voice, getting totally out of character. He’d temporarily reverted to his true origins. He was decades removed from anything street, but at times it came out. It was very rare, but when it happened, August knew he was dead serious.
West noticed himself getting loud and looked around as he clenched his teeth, so much so that his jawline muscles were on display. He gathered his composure and cleared his throat. In a lowered tone, he added, “We are running a billion-dollar company and you try to find a way to sabotage it every chance you get. You gotta tighten up.”
August had just popped a few pills, so he wasn’t listening to anything West was saying. His mind was on that ass that was a few feet away from him.
“A’ight, man. I hear you,” August replied to appease his adopted brother.
West looked over at one of the workers and stuck two fingers in his mouth, whistling to get their attention. When the worker looked, West put up one finger, signaling the sign for gas. The worker instantly headed to fetch the rolling gas pump that could supply enough gas for the speedboat to make it back to shore. West put his hands on his belt buckle and shook his head at his careless brother. The rig worker approached the edge and began to prep the rolling gas station to fill the speedboat.
West looked over at August and talked in a low tone. “Get out of here before you cost us a violation. I’ll be by later this evening,” West said quickly.
“A’ight, bet,” August said just before he took a huge swallow of champagne. West walked away, leaving them at the edge, and headed toward his father who had continued giving their visitors a tour.
The sun was just setting against the purplish and orange-hued sky. The view from the downtown Houston condo provided a perfect skyline of the city. The glass front provided no privacy for the people inside. However, they didn’t care who watched. In the middle of the studio-styled layout was a king-sized bed. An ebony woman with a huge ass slowly rode August’s face. Her thick legs and thighs were spread and his mouth lined up perfectly with her love box. His hands rested on her cheeks, massaging them as she waved her body in a snakelike motion. Her short hair was cut in a Caesar style and her baby hair rested perfectly along the edges of her hairline. She looked like a chocolate version of Betty Boop with her big, full lips that were painted in red lipstick, and her big, fluffy eyelashes stuck out an inch from her eyelids.
She moaned as she moved her hips in circular motions, ferociously grinding against August’s pale face. It was the same girl from the boat earlier that day, but she was the one driving this go-around. She motorboated his face as he licked away. A petite-framed Latina woman was giving him oral while massaging his sack. She used her free hand to please herself as she rested her body against his thigh. They were all in unison as soft moans and slurping sounds filled the spacious high-rise. As the Latina girl took August in and out of her mouth, she looked up at the big, chocolate cheeks grinding and she rubbed them, following it up with a firm smack. An echoing slap sound resonated. This made the ebony girl moan in pleasure and subsequently turned her on even more.
As their threesome was underway, they were so tuned in to the sexual acts that they didn’t see the man walk into the middle of the room. It was West. He looked away, not wanting to see what was going on. He let himself in because he had a spare key to his brother’s spot. He didn’t know he would be walking into a full-fledged orgy.
“Okay, that’s enough,” West said as he turned his back to the action and stared out of the window onto the city’s horizon.
“Agh!” the ebony girl yelled as she hopped off August and covered herself with the bedsheet. The other girl shrieked as well and jumped in terror. August sat up in confusion and saw his unwanted visitor turned away from them. He still had the woman’s nectar dripping from his mouth as he frowned, trying to figure out what was going on.
“What the fuck, bro?” August yelled as he threw his hands up.
“Young ladies, it’s time to go. Sorry to interrupt.” West turned around and waved toward the door. Both girls looked at August and tried to make sense of what was going on. He quickly backed his brother.
“You heard him. Get lost.” August stood buck-ass naked and walked across the floor, heading toward the bathroom. He didn’t have a care in the world and let his Johnson swing freely. He didn’t put up a fight because he knew exactly why West was there. The stunt he’d pulled earlier was the reason, because West never visited the condo.
West didn’t say a word, waiting patiently for the women to get dressed and leave before he addressed the situation. He followed them to the door and opened it for them, nodding to them as they exited like the true gentleman he was. As soon as he closed the door behind them, he barged directly to the shower where August was. His brother stood under the running water with his hand resting against the wall, letting the water cascade down his body.
“What the fuck were you thinking, man? That had to be the dumbest shit you’ve ever done and with your track record … that says a whole fucking lot.”
“I know, West. I know,” August said as he shook his head in guilt.
“‘I know,’ my ass. Do you know I had to promise the head inspector a million-dollar donation to his wife’s charity just for him to overlook your bullshit? Huh?”
“I fucked up,” August admitted. He turned off the water and looked at West. West grabbed a towel and threw it at August’s head before he walked into the living room. August followed while wrapping the towel around his waist. “I was drunk as shit,” August revealed.
“And high! I saw that shit in your eyes. Your pupils were big as pennies. Who the fuck drinks and gets high before noon?” West asked, shaking his head in disbelief, trying to make sense of August’s stupidity.
“Did you see that bitch’s ass?” August imaginatively outlined the girl’s hourglass shape with both hands. He tried to make light of the situation to ease the tension. He ended it by playfully humping the air. West couldn’t help but crack a smile and they both burst out laughing.
“Pops is hot though, bro. You have to move smarter. You are making the family business look bad. This isn’t some mom-and-pop operation that you can just play with. This oil business is a multibillion-dollar industry and Sinclair Enterprises is at the top of it. You have to think before you act sometimes, bruh,” West said in a concerned tone, rather than one of condescension.
“I know. I know. I’ll go and talk to Pops in the morning and smooth shit over,” August said, not being new to having to clean up a mess that he had made.
“Good, because he’s on fire, you hear me?” West said as he walked over to the china cabinet that was in the corner of the flat. West began to pull out a small glass and then poured himself a glass of Scotch. August slipped on a pair of slacks and began to think about things other than his fuckup.
“Yo, you going to New York this weekend?” August asked as he buttoned up his shirt. He assumed West would be there considering his brother had a few athletes under contract who were projected to go in the first round of the NFL Draft.
“Yeah, I’ll be there. The Lions have been blowing my phone up, saying that they might move up to get Jay,” West said, referring to his quarterback client who was projected to go between the fifth and seventh pick.
“That fucker has a cannon for an arm,” August said as he put gel in his blond hair.
“Yeah, he does. He just has to stay healthy and make it to that second contract. That’s where the real money is.” West finished up his drink and set his cup down, pointing at his brother as he headed toward the exit. “Make sure you clean up that shit with Pops. That million-dollar donation has him tight. And check on Ma too. She asked about you this morning.”
A sports agency was one of his many business ventures and he was one of the very few African Americans who was head of a reputable one. Although August knew his brother hated going to public functions where there would be a lot of sack-chasing women and younger crowds, West understood it was a necessity for acquiring future clients. He was getting money at the highest level on many fronts, and representing athletes and negotiating their deals was one of them.
“Love you, bro,” West said as he disappeared into the hallway, leaving August there alone. August began to think about how he would turn up in New York too. So in August Sinclair fashion, he pulled out his phone, planting the seeds for any groupies he might have on the East Coast. He instantly opened his Instagram account and prepared to go live. He put up the camera and pointed it back at himself for the best possible angle. He waited for a few seconds before he spoke to let his followers join in first. He patiently watched the numbers climb by the second. He had over a million followers and a strong social media presence. He didn’t do anything to be famous … he just was. All the socialites and entertainers followed him because of his extravagant lifestyle and his willingness to show it.
“Okay.… A’ight, so look. New York this weekend. I’m looking for a few of the sexiest ladies in the city to jump on the Private with me. What up?”
“What up, RiRi?” August said as he saw a famous female singer had logged on and watched along with the others. The pop star sent him a heart eyes emoji in the comments for everyone to see. August grabbed his other phone and began to shuffle through his playlist, finding one of the singer’s latest songs. He pressed play and made it sound on his Bluetooth speaker while playfully swaying back and forth. He was vibing to her new popular song. In return, his viewership climbed and climbed rapidly. Before he knew it, many celebrities and influencers were giving him shout-outs in the comments and cheering him on as they all listened and watched him. He made his way to his dresser drawer and opened it up, exposing rubber band–wrapped money in neat stacks completely filling the drawer. He pulled out a stack of all hundreds and placed it to his ear boastfully. This continued for the next few minutes as he played more songs, getting a text from the singer with a link to some unreleased tracks. She’d asked him to play snippets on his live and August was doing just that. She knew his influence would get the buzz going for her upcoming album. She used August’s influence for her album awareness. This was something money couldn’t buy. It worked like a charm because everyone was tuned in to see what new music was on the way.
“Who wanna go to New York with me this weekend? Let me know. Share this video … tag me. Let’s go.” He burst into playful laughter, tossing the money into the air. The bills slowly fell like snow onto his condo’s floor. He looked at his viewers and over a half million people were tuned in. He logged off and began putting his plans into motion for the weekend in New York. He was about to make it legendary.
“You see this shit?” Luna asked as she held up the phone, showing August on his social media as he flaunted money. He had just gone live and invited random girls to go to New York with him. The girls were at the LaCroix Group offices preparing to head out for the day and Gadget had stumbled across something interesting. August Sinclair. Luna always stayed on top of who and what was trending; and since she saw this man trending once again, she logged on to see what he was talking about.
“Look at this white boy’s numbers,” Honor said as she watched them climb by tens of thousands by the second.
Honor stared at Luna’s phone screen. “Who is that?”
“August Sinclair.”
“He’s playing that new RiRi record and people are going crazy. Look, it’s almost at a million viewers.” Honor held her phone up and pointed to the corner of the screen where the view count was displayed.
“What does he do?” Sutton asked, loading up her briefcase to end the day. She stood behind her desk as her other sisters were visually invested in August’s live feed.
“That’s the thing. No one knows. He just flashes money, yachts, and jets on a daily basis,” Honor said, trying to best describe the lure of his popularity. “He’s always in pictures with the Kardashians in Calabasas. Plus, he is always front row at all the nationally televised Lakers games.”
“Those fifty-thousand-dollar seats?” Sutton asked, getting more and more interested by the second. She didn’t like to not be in the loop of the movers and shakers of the entertainment industry. She knew celebrity row was a great place to get clients, referring to the Lakers’ courtside seats.
“Yep, he’s there every time, front and center where the cameras can see him,” Honor confirmed.
“Gadget, who is this guy? Look…” Sutton said. However, Gadget had already popped open her laptop and begun to type. She cut her sister off, already knowing what was going on.
“I’m on it, sis. Okay … here he is.” Gadget slightly turned her screen so her two other sisters could see. “His name is August Sinclair. Heir to August Sinclair Sr., who is CEO of Sinclair Enterprises. Which is—”
“The biggest oil rig in Texas,” Sutton interjected as her ears perked. She walked around her desk, her eyes glued to Gadget’s computer screen. She knew immediately what company Gadget was referring to when she heard the name. This was a company she’d had on her radar for years but never had too much intel about them. Sinclair was a tight-knit, family-owned company no one knew too much about, other than the Sinclairs were one of the wealthiest families in Texas. Her mind instantly began to spin and work overtime, seeing a possible entry point for their firm. A client like this was what firms aspired to get. Sutton understood the chess move of acquiring a client of that magnitude, not only for the potential business, but also for the future acquisitions of more big-name companies.
“It says here that he has a net worth of two point four billion dollars, just himself alone,” she added.
“Oh yeah,” Sutton said as she began to ponder the possibilities. “Where did he say he was going this weekend?”
“New York,” Honor answered while smiling, already knowing what her sister was thinking.
Sutton smirked and ran her tongue across her teeth. “Gadget, get a full profile on this guy. I want to know everything about him. Where he banks, where he eats, where he fucks, and who he’s fucking. I need to understand what type of person he is and what are his vices. This is our way into Sinclair Enterprises, ladies.” Sutton leaned back on her desk and crossed her arms. She was already orchestrating a plan inside her mind.
“I’m on it.” Gadget started to type away, beginning her intel. Her first task was to search the black market and get his financial records to understand how much he really had in the bank. After that, she would create a virtual paper trail and take a full analysis of his spending patterns. This would allow them to understand him more as a person. Gadget would deep dive into August’s life and by the end of it, they would know and understand him better than he knew himself.
“Guess we are going to New York this weekend?” Honor asked as she smiled. Sutton looked over at Honor and winked, confirming their next target.