TRICK

by Treasure Hernandez

Genres: African American Urban

Synopsis

How do you beat a trick at his own game? You become the treat.

Amber Halloway is what some would call “forbidden fruit” because she is so stunning. When her father is murdered by the local kingpin’s mob, she uses her beauty to her advantage.

Step 1: Infiltrate. With the help of her older brother, Dawg, she gets a job at the biggest strip club in the city to gain the attention of the man responsible for killing her father.
Step 2: Make him fall in love. Amber just never anticipated that he would be so charming.
Step 3: Rob him blind and deliver the same fate as he did her father.

Falling for the man she’s supposed to hate isn’t a part of the plan. When Dawg sees that his sister is hesitating to get the job done, he takes matters into his own hands, not caring whose blood he spills.
 

Release date: June 24, 2025

Publisher: Urban Books

Print pages: 288

Sample

Money, power, or love were usually why people got out of bed in the morning. But me? Revenge was what woke me up. I yearned for the taste of it on my tongue for months, doing whatever I had to do just to get one taste. But you know what they say: plans don’t always go as planned. Kind of like how my dad wanted his baby girl to make him proud with some degree in something big. But school was never my thing. I was an art girl.

“Art won’t pay the bills. Art will starve you. You’re a Halloway, Amber. Never forget that.”

My father’s voice used to play repeatedly in my head, but it was never loud enough for me to change my course. Sometimes, I thought that if maybe I had listened, things would be different. Maybe I could have been some famous doctor or surgeon and made my entire family proud. But that just wasn’t in the cards for me. Sooo, I was what many young women aspired to be . . . a bad bitch. And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love the kind of attention I got when I stepped into a room. I always planned to use my looks to get what I wanted, and that was why I knew my art career would thrive. I had beauty and talent. Paired together, I didn’t see how I could lose . . . until I lost.

The things about myself that I loved deeply at one point in time were the things I had started to regret as I stared into the barrel of a shiny pistol. Being shapely and sexy as hell with a doll face didn’t seem to matter as my life flashed before my eyes. I trembled as my eyes slowly left the gun and traveled up the arm of the person holding it.

“Please, don’t,” I begged.

“You’re his heart, and I want it broken.”

His voice was cold and steady. I knew that meant he was standing firm in his decision, and there was nothing I could do. I sat there staring into the familiar face of a man who I loved deeply as he stared back at me with hatred.

“But . . . I love you.”

“You don’t love shit.”

I jumped when I heard the gun cock back and felt warm tears streaming down my face. He didn’t care about what I had to say. I was hoping that it wouldn’t have to come to that. I was hoping that my gift of gab would save me. I wished I could just go back and change it all. But it was too late. Fate had already played its hand for me, and it was time to sweep the cards off the table. As I stared into his eyes, our time together as kids flashed before mine. It was time to say goodbye, but not before I played the recent weeks back. I took a deep breath and returned to the beginning of it all in my mind.

“Daddy!” I bustled around our large five-bedroom family home in search of my cell phone.

I’d just had it at breakfast, but when I went to the restroom and came out, it wasn’t where I’d placed it. Or where I thought I’d placed it. Sometimes, I did things so automatically I didn’t store them in my memory. Like when I came home after a night out, set my purse or keys down somewhere, and didn’t remember the next day. I had all but torn the kitchen apart trying to find my phone, and I was starting to think maybe I was crazy. I needed the help of the only other person who was home at the time.

“Daddy!”

“What’s wrong, baby?” His voice finally sounded as he came into the kitchen.

He stopped in his tracks when he saw my handiwork in the kitchen. It was then that I took it in too. I’d pulled out every chair from the table, the placemats were on the floor, the jars on the kitchen counter were in disarray, and the island in the center looked like I’d taken my arm and swatted everything off it.

“What the hell . . .”

“I can’t find my phone, and I’m going to be late meeting this art dealer if I don’t leave now.”

“Phone? You mean this phone?” He brandished my pink cell phone from his pocket and handed it to me.

“Yes. Where did you find it?” I asked, checking my notifications.

“In the bathroom on the towel rack.”

“I must’ve been moving too fast,” I said sheepishly.

“Lina is going to be pissed at you. She worked hard on organizing the island.” He shook his head, looking around at the damage I’d caused.

Lina was our housekeeper. She stayed with us but returned to Mexico to visit her family for a week. She was due back today, and I couldn’t wait. She wasn’t Black, but she sure cooked like it. I’d been almost dying having to fix my own food, and I couldn’t even play like my cooking skills came close to hers.

“Can’t you just give her a nice bonus or something?” I asked, and Daddy gave me an incredulous look.

“Excuse me?”

“Daddy, please. I’m sorry. I’d clean it up if I had the time.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot. You’re meeting some art dealer in hopes of . . . what exactly?”

“In hopes of showcasing some of my work in his show.”

“And who is this dealer?”

“Antonio Rondell. Retired, a renowned artist, and his shows generate millions of dollars. He just had a show in Paris, and one piece alone sold for $700,000.”

“Well, if he’s so renowned, why is he retired?”

“MS. He physically isn’t able to hold a paintbrush anymore so he continues his work by shedding light on other artists. And hopefully, after today, I’ll be one of them.”

I could tell by the exasperated breath he took and the way he clenched his lips together as if to stop his original thought from escaping he was going to say something to get on my nerves. A part of me hated that his parenting got on my nerves, but the other part wanted him to let me live my life. I understood why he had reservations about me chasing my art dreams. Years ago, my mother left him to raise my brother and me so she could fulfill her dream of being a Broadway singer. I had to have been about 8 at the time of their divorce, and I didn’t remember much but my father’s sadness. That was when he hired Lina to care for us since he was a high-profile lawyer and needed the help.

I always thought he hoped my mom would come back, but that hope was shattered when she was mugged after one of her greatest shows. She’d just performed in Hamilton, and afterward, when she left to meet up with a few of her friends, she was attacked for her purse. My mom was a fighter and wouldn’t let go of the bag. The mugger shot her and left her for dead. Well, that was what I was told anyway. I felt like the thought of her lying there like that plagued Daddy’s mind so much that he started to blame her career for what the mugger had done. He hated the arts, any form of it.

“When are you going back to school, Amber?” he finally asked. “You’re only a few credits away from your degree, and I don’t see the point in waiting.”

“Daddy, what’s the point in getting a degree I won’t use?” I said and sighed.

I didn’t want to have the “college” talk again. My dad really wanted me to be like him and my older brother, Allun. He’d gotten his nickname “Dawg” at an early age because he was the type to sniff out anything he wanted and any information he needed to know. He’d followed in our father’s footsteps and became a lawyer just like him. He even worked for Daddy’s firm, where I was expected to work one day. But I didn’t want to be a lawyer or anything along those lines. I had my own path, and I wanted to follow that and only that. I didn’t want to be Supergirl in the day and Batgirl at night.

“You’re just like your mother, you know that?”

“I don’t think that’s a bad thing,” I said, kissing his cheek. “Bye, Daddy. I’ll see you later, okay?”

He grumbled something under his breath, and I couldn’t help but laugh a little as I approached the door. Before I left, I grabbed the painting I hoped Antonio would showcase in his show. It was wrapped and leaning against the wall underneath my hanging purse, which I also grabbed. I bustled out of the house and rushed to where my pink Range Rover was parked in our circular driveway. Pulling out, I checked the dash and saw it was about nine o’clock. Antonio agreed to meet me at a coffee shop downtown at 9:30. I was pushing it, but I was sure I’d get there on time. I would prove my dad and anyone else who doubted me wrong.

I didn’t know what to do with that child of mine. Amber had so much potential, but she wasted it chasing a pipe dream. Now, don’t get me wrong. The girl was gifted with any kind of drawing or painting tool. However, I wanted her to chase longevity. I didn’t want her to waste her most important years on something that wouldn’t help build her legacy. Now, the Halloway firm was something she could pass down to her children and her children’s children. I’d built my business from the mud up, which was something to be proud of.

Growing up, I lived with my parents. Our home wasn’t just dysfunctional; it was chaotic. My father was an abusive alcoholic, and my mother turned to drugs to deal with his abuse. Not only that, but we were also dirt poor. I hated being home on the weekends and in the summer because school was the only place I got consistent hot meals. And that was bad because school wasn’t my favorite place either. Although there have been many noticeable changes in the education system since then, I could say that, without a doubt, back then, the education system wasn’t meant for Black students to excel. Not to mention the unsupportive teachers. I was nothing but a scruffy kid they tolerated for a paycheck. Between that and my finally being taken away from my parents at age 12, I knew that the only person who could save me from a life of turmoil was me.

The Halloway firm was a testament to my struggles and my success. I didn’t understand why Amber wanted no part of it. What she didn’t know was that she didn’t have a choice, and I was putting my foot down. The only reason she felt free enough to gallivant around doing what she wanted to do was because she was on my dime. I paid for every part of the lifestyle she loved so much. It was June, and I expected her to reregister for school by July first and finish her degree, or else she could kiss her lifestyle goodbye. I would never put my child on the streets. I would put her in a simple apartment and downgrade her car to something she could afford, working whatever low-paying job she could find. Some might call me harsh, but I would disagree. I refused to work hard while my child just lived off the fat of the land.

I pushed my disappointed thoughts about my daughter out of my head and sat at the table to sip my morning coffee. While doing so, I checked the messages on my phone. My son, Dawg, reminded me that we had to meet a client this morning. He was always on his toes, but I was always a few steps ahead of him. I would never forget about a meeting with a high-profile client like Theodore Lavy, the oldest of the Lavy brothers. He was currently fighting a gun charge and attempted murder. It wouldn’t have been a tough case if it weren’t for the fact that he was already a convicted felon and wasn’t supposed to have a gun in the first place.

While the prosecution was building a case against him, Dawg and I were putting together our defense, which demanded we work tirelessly. See, the Lavy brothers owned a lot of property in Atlanta, and it was said that they were also underground drug traffickers as well. That side hadn’t surfaced yet, so I wasn’t sure how true it was. However, if I were to find out it was true, I’d drop him as a client. I’d experienced firsthand how drugs can ruin a person’s life, and I wouldn’t defend the freedom of a man poisoning the world. I finished my coffee and prepared to get up from the table when I heard the front door open and close.

“Mr. Halloway, I’m back. I—” Lina stopped midsentence when she entered the kitchen and looked around. “Oh my God. Was the place robbed?”

I couldn’t help but to laugh at her wide eyes as she looked around at Amber’s handiwork. Lina was a petite woman who looked more like a fresh 31-year-old than a woman pushing 50 years. Her dark brunette hair usually stayed in a single French braid, and she, like Amber, stayed on top of her beauty regimens. Her nails and eyelashes were always freshly done, and she wore just enough makeup to give her a glow. Nothing more, nothing less.

“No, no. The place wasn’t robbed, Lina. It was that daughter of mine looking for her phone.”

“That damn girl,” Lina groaned. “I thought I’d have time to unpack and rest a little.”

“How about a nice tip for this mess, and you take the rest of the day off? You can start your full regular shift tomorrow,” I said and handed her $200 from my wallet.

“Thank you, Mr. Halloway, but I’m afraid I won’t be able to take the full day off. The kids clearly couldn’t wait for me to return from Mexico.” She chuckled and shook her head. “Dawg called me as soon as my flight landed and wants me to come clean his condo today.”

“You do know you were gone for a week, right?” I said, thinking about what creatures she might encounter when she walked into my son’s place.

“I know. And I have my gloves ready,” she said jokingly.

“Thanks, Lina.” I got up from the table and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead before grabbing my briefcase.

“Have a good day,” she called after me.

I left the house with a smile on my face. I hadn’t realized just how much I’d missed her until she was back at home. Lina had come into my life when I needed her the most. As a newly widowed man with two children and a career, I needed a miracle. And that miracle came in the form of a feisty, sharp-tongued woman. She helped me raise my children while keeping me sane at the same time. Although some people mistook us for a married couple over the years, Lina and I were more like brother and sister. I didn’t know what I would have done without her.

I drove my freshly washed Benz CLE AMG coupe to the office, listening to some Run-DMC and LL. Real music. I didn’t know any of the trash the kids listened to these days. I just knew it wasn’t for me. When I got to the firm, I did what I always did when I arrived. I parked in my designated spot right by the door and looked up at the beautiful two-story building. Dawg and I weren’t the only lawyers the firm had. We had three more of the brightest minds Atlanta had to offer. Tiana Campbell specialized in family law and was a shark at what she did. Gaven Holt specialized in corporate law, while Anthony Sinclaire covered all our civil cases. Dawg and I handled every defense case, and he was also a senior partner of the company.

After taking in my masterpiece for what felt like the millionth time, I got out of my car and went inside. We all had our own personal secretaries, and mine was waiting for me at his desk right outside of my office. Jeffrey was a flamboyantly gay man dressed like he was showing up to a fashion show every day at work. He had a light complexion and wore designer prescription glasses on his overly chisel. . .