The Prada Plan 2: Leah's Story

The Prada Plan 2: Leah’s Story
The Prada Plan 2: Leah’s Story
Ashley Antoinette


I dedicate this to the new little man who came along and stole my heart. I never knew I could love so deeply until I helped create you. You bring out all the best parts in me. I want to be better because of you. This one is for my new joy, my son. Your father and I prayed for you…our dream baby…our first child…

Quaye Jovan Coleman



I also dedicate this to my husband and soul mate, JaQuavis Coleman. We’ve been through a lot…more than the average couple could withstand. Good thing we aren’t average, huh? We are extraordinary together.


wholeheartedly, without apology, and through controversy. There isn’t anyone or anything that can tear us apart. Nobody! Many have tried, but no one has succeeded because they have no idea how strong the glue that binds us is. Only we know the type of love we share. We are two halves of the same puzzle; one doesn’t make sense without the other, and I am so honored to be the leading lady in your life. In addition to so many other things, you are my very best friend…always have been, always will be. Other people don’t have to understand it. They don’t live on our planet anyway. It is you and I against the world, fuck everybody else. Oh yeah, I guess we have to add Quaye into that equation now too, lol. It’s all about our family. No one else matters. Every time you tell me you love me, I know that those words and your heart belong only to me.



“Many waters cannot quench love, neither can the floods drown it…”

—Song of Solomon 8:7


I have to thank God, because only He knows the challenges that I have faced along this literary road. Writing this one was a miracle, considering all the obstacles I had to go through, and although I don’t understand why certain things happened in my life, I know that He will never give me a test that I cannot pass. This gift that He has given me, this amazing life that I have been afforded, and the beautiful husband and son that I was blessed with are enough for me to always be grateful to Him.

I would like to thank all of the fans that continue to support me. I do this for you, and I appreciate all of you who have been on this ride with me since my
Dirty Money
days. I hope you enjoy this new Ashley Antoinette classic. You are the best, and I will do this for you until I can’t do it any longer. I read your e-mails, and I appreciate your positivity. Know that all of you are my inspiration.

I would like to thank my mom for her constant and unyielding love and support; my daddy for his strength, wisdom, and heart; my siblings for their purity and motivation. I love you all so very much. I’m blessed with an amazing circle of unending love, and the more I experience life, the more I appreciate how genuine you all are.

I would like to thank Carl Weber, of course. You are truly family, and you have taught me so many things about this business. This is a partnership, a team, and I know that I would not be where I am without the intricate part that you play in my success. I appreciate your belief in me and in my ability as a novelist. Thank you for your patience with this one. Forty weeks of pregnancy definitely slowed me down, but I’m back and better than ever! Time to take it to the next level…no ceilings.

Speaking of which, I would like to thank our super agent, Mr. Marc Maguire, lol. You are truly the best at what you do. I am so thankful to have you on this Ashley & JaQuavis team. You singlehandedly took me into a crazy tax bracket, lol, and you have turned what I once considered a hustle into a lifelong career. I can’t wait to see what the future has in store for us. I see big business ahead. Of course, I have to include Ms. Sasha in this acknowledgement for all of her hard work as well. You two are a pleasure to work with.
is next on the
New York Times
list, guys. Just wait and see. It is going to be epic!!!

I would also like to thank Natalie, Brenda, Denard, Martha, Walter, and the entire Urban Books/Kensington family for your hard work, for all of the feel-good e-mails throughout my pregnancy, your dedication to our brand, and for your support. You guys are the best in the business. It is all in the family, so my success is your success as well. We’re in this together.

I would like to thank some of my dearest friends for being authentic and for being true even when it is not easy: Ashley Mustafaa, Shonda Gaylord, Charlynn Midock, and Christine Love.

Last but most certainly not least, I would like to thank Cash Money Content for choosing Ashley & JaQuavis as one of the starters for your new book line. We’re going to knock this thing out of the park. I promise! Can’t wait to get started.



You can visit me at or

Previously in
The Prada Plan

Disaya sat straight up in the middle of the night and looked around the darkened room. She was in a cold sweat and her heart was beating erratically. She looked at the clock. It read 4:45
. She held her breath as she listened silently.

“Indie,” she whispered as she shook him out of his sleep.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he asked.

“Something’s not right,” she said, her eyes wide and alert.

“Everything’s fine, ma. You just got to get used to the new house,” he urged as he kissed her lips. “Go back to sleep.”

Disaya threw the covers off of her body. “She usually wakes up, Indie. Skylar doesn’t sleep through the night yet. She wakes up around three every morning.” She stood up and raced out of their room. Her panicky mood made Indie follow her into their daughter’s room.

The sight of the empty crib brought Disaya to a halt as she stared into the darkness in anguish. “She’s gone! Indie, she’s gone!” Disaya screamed as she fell into his arms crying. “Where’s my daughter, Indie? Where is she? Who would take her, Indie? Who would do this?”

Her terrified screams only intensified as the situation sank in and the shattered heart of a mother awoke the neighbors and pierced through the still of the night. She had no idea that her worst enemy was lurking around her. She had left New York in hopes of leaving her horrid past behind her, but trouble always seemed to follow. It was the story of her life.



Leah looked down at the tiny child in her arms. She was so gorgeous that Leah couldn’t help but imagine what her own baby might have looked like. The child in her arms was still asleep, but the crying in her ear was as loud as ever.

Waaa! Waaa!

“Shut up!” she yelled. Baby Skylar whimpered, but settled down without so much as a peep. Leah was confused.
Where is the crying coming from?

As she stood in the back yard of the house that Indie had built, her eyes darted around frantically until she found the source of the ear-piercing sound. It was coming from the grave where she had buried her dead baby. He was screaming, taunting her…haunting her.

Leah then looked at the tiny grave she had dug next to her baby’s, and a smile crept across her face as she looked down at Baby Skylar. Indie and Disaya were going to pay for fucking her over. They were going to pay for all of her pain.

“Your mommy and daddy should have never fucked with me. Now, their precious little baby has to pay.”





I know you want to label me the bad guy. Every story needs one, right? The conniving bitch that is only out for self, the crazy one with nothing to lose. That’s how you see me. Every pair of eyes that’s scanning this page would love to see this bad girl die slow, but I’m used to that. It’s the story of my life. Leah Richards has always been spoiled goods.

But you all are looking through a jaded lens. If you knew the true story behind my rage, you would understand. Little Ms. Prada Plan isn’t as perfect as she seems, and I’m not as cruel as you would like to make me out to be. Rivalry, betrayal, friendship, rejection, loneliness, jealousy—those were the ingredients that brought me to this point. All of that mixed with rage contributed to the deterioration of my mental health. Now I’m teetering on the edge, and depending on which direction the winds of life blow, I could be pushed over.

I should have never opened up my life to YaYa. The greedy bitch just took and took from me until I had nothing left. Emotionally, she drained me. She left me on E, and now it’s payback time. It’s my turn to watch her suffer.

You’ve already chosen teams, and I get it, because you have only heard YaYa’s side of the story thus far.
The Prada Plan
made that bitch look like a saint, but by the end of
Part 2,
you just might change your mind about me. I’m not a fake bitch, so I’m not saying you are going to love me; because frankly, I don’t like any of you Indie and YaYa fan club members either. All of those reviews were sickening. Damn, I mean they are a far cry from Barack and Michelle. Get off their jocks. So no, I don’t care for y’all that much, and you for damn sure don’t like me, but let’s just say that after my story you will understand me, and you most definitely will know it’s not a good idea to cross me.

My life has been one constant struggle, and one exhausting tale of survival. When nobody wants you, envy can easily corrupt your heart, and when you have no loyalties, no one is indispensable. I’ve always done what I had to do in order to get by, and the people who got in my way always felt my wrath. Fuck a mother, a father, and a friend; all I’ve ever had was me, and I
to lose—especially to Disaya Morgan. I’ll let my body hit the dirt before I let that bitch beat me.

I had learned to control my anger. Years of therapy and padded rooms had snapped me out of my vindictive nature, but YaYa brought me back. She unlocked the devil in me, and from the very first time I looked into those green eyes, I secretly hated her. She had what I wanted, everything that I desired. She was so beautiful and loved, yet was clueless as to how blessed she actually was. She was who I wanted to be, who I should have been.

Befriending the bitch was easy enough. Getting rid of Mona’s tag-along ass was simple, because she was a weak ho from the beginning. Being close to YaYa fulfilled my need for attention, but after I helped her Baby Phat—wearing ass sleep her way to the top, she forgot that we were a team. I introduced her to real money and a completely new lifestyle, then the bitch fell in love, and she had the nerve to turn her nose up at me—like lying on her back hadn’t just been her way to get paid too.

She acted like what we had didn’t mean shit to her, as if Indie could offer her so much more. The bitch was stupid, because the way I see it, he was using her. At least my love was genuine. My love had been there all along. It was based on a much deeper connection, not just on the sex. Indie didn’t decide to wife her until she gave him some pussy. I, on the other hand, appreciated her for so much more. YaYa’s dense ass couldn’t see that, though, and her brand new attitude turned me off completely.

I don’t get clipped; I clip bitches. She should have known that there could only be one queen B, and now I have to teach her a lesson. It’s time for her to kneel at my feet and know what it feels like to be second best.

I know I’m rambling. It is so easy for me to get caught up in my emotions and vent about this situation all day, so before I take it there, I’m going to hand this story over to someone who can do it justice. If I kick it to you, you are going to be biased. You already hate me, so you won’t judge it with an open mind, so Ms. Ashley Antoinette is going to deliver it for me—raw and uncensored, the way that only she can do it.

I’m about to flip this entire shit upside down. Fuck a Prada Plan and the bitch that created it. It’s Leah’s turn. Welcome to my story.

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