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"So, Britain, how have you been adjusting to Italy?" Havani asked.

Britain shrugged lightly. "It’s been a smooth transition," she stated, immediately overthinking her response after she let it out. Knowing that Havani was about to document notes on her had her feeling like she was in an interrogation room, and she had no option but to be perfect. She wasn't at a point where she could be completely open and honest with Havani, so as of right now, she had decided her responses would be sugarcoated and made pretty until she got comfortable enough to do otherwise.

"You miss home at all? I know for me, when I made the move here, I was in shambles," Havani admitted as she laughed lightly.

Britain chuckled. She could relate to the feeling, but because of her circumstances, she didn't have much time to actually stress over the move. For her, it felt like one minute she was in New York, then the next, she was in Italy. "Yeah, it's a little nerve-racking when you think of it as one big change, but I'm just taking it day by day."

"Okay, and besides taking it day by day, how are you in general?" Havani kept her light smile etched on her face as she tilted her head slightly while questioning Britain.

Britain could feel the tension rise in her shoulders as she tried her best to keep her posture straight. Her nerves causedher to subconsciously rub her palms against the denim material of her jeans. "Good. Everything has been great, really," she nodded her head and said, offering Havani a quick response. It was evident that Britain was trying to sound as convincing as possible.

"I believe you," Havani replied, instantly causing Britain to furrow her brows. She was confident that she put on her best convincing tone, but she didn't expect Havani to fall for it so quickly and easily. The more she thought about it, the more she came to terms with the reality that Havani's response wasn't what one would typically expect to receive when you told someone you were doing good. The inquisitive part of Britain wanted to question Havani, but she didn't want to turn her session into an interview. She knew she could derail the entire session with the number of questions she could ask, but for the sake of her personal healing, she decided against it.

Britain watched uneasily as Havani tapped away on her iPad. Silence had now circled the room as she waited for Havani to actually start the session. She had seen many dramatized versions of first sessions with therapists, and it always led to an enlightening moment for the client. She was eager to have that moment. She felt as though it would be an accomplishment to finally come to terms with her trauma.

As she continued to sear her feline-like orbs onto Havani, she watched as she finally pulled her attention from the device she had in her hand and faced her. "The floor is yours," Havani gestured, advising her that she was the one who was actually awaiting a response.

Britain felt a knot form in her throat. Her eyes descended to her hands that were toying with her engagement ring. "No disrespect," Britain finally spoke out. "But aren't you supposed to be leading the session?"

Havani chuckled, finding Britain's question amusing. "I can't necessarily lead the session when there's already been a wall put up." She motioned her hand at the invisible wall Britain had fenced around her feelings. "I have to respect your boundaries or else you will leave this session and let your fiancé know that you never want to come back, so if you're saying you’re doing good, I can't question that. I believe everything you tell me," Havani further explained.

When Priest told Britain that Havani was good, she didn't think she would be that good. All Britain's life, she spoon-fed people the highlights of her life while she stored the crippling downfalls in the back of her mind. She had gotten this far without introducing anyone to her trauma, but she never really noticed how bad it affected her until recently. Havani wasn't the person who needed to be spoon fed. Quite frankly, she couldn't be. She saw past Britain's barrier. She knew deep down inside, all Britain wanted was to express all that she felt, but she feared judgment.

Britain pursed her lips as she exhaled a deep breath. As she leaned back in the chair, her soft brown orbs gazed up at the ceiling, avoiding eye contact. "I'm lying," Britain blurted out.

Havani crossed her legs as she pushed her iPad aside so she could focus her full attention on to Britain. "Lying about what?" She was fully aware of what Britain was lying about, but she needed Britain to admit it. Hearing herself say it would be the first step of her healing.

Britain kept her sight fixed to the ceiling as she offered Havani another response. "Being good," she clarified. "I'm not okay. I haven't been okay for practically half of my life, and no one ever even noticed, except—" Britain halted as another depleting sigh fled from her.

"Except who, Britain? Priest?" Havani asked.

Britain shook her head, this time sitting up so she could lock eyes with Havani. "No. The only person that ever really noticed wasCameron."

TRIBECA, NEW YORK

Withher head resting against the wall of the elevator, Jazzy let out a heavy sigh. She was set to call it a night after spending some much-needed time with Taylor. After Britain's departure, she was trying her best to get out more since she realized all she did was try to fill Priest's shoes since he left. The night with Taylor was thrilling. After club hopping and getting a bite to eat, Jazzy was ready to take a shower and get right into bed.

The elevator came to a smooth halt as the thick steel doors parted ways. A furrow embedded itself into her forehead as she entered the penthouse. She could hear some movements being made within the penthouse, which provoked her to reach into her purse and extract her pistol. With her small hands clenching the handle of the gun, Jazzy cautiously stepped out of her heels so her footsteps wouldn't give away her presence. As she inched further into the penthouse, she aimed the gun out in front of her.

Bending the corner, she felt a sense of relief wash over her once she saw both J'Ru and Kaymen standing at the island of the kitchen. "You niggas would have been dead if I was trigger happy," Jazzy enlightened them as she stuffed her piece back into her designer bag.

Both J'Ru and Kaymen looked over their shoulders, surprised to see her. J'Ru smacked his lips. "You ain't crazy," he waved her off before returning his attention to the multiple duffel bags that crowded the countertop.

Jazzy paid him no mind as she shuffled toward the counter. Her eyes hawked over the unzipped duffle bags that wereall filled to capacity with money. "What's going on?" Jazzy’s attention strayed from the money and shifted between Kaymen and J'Ru.

They both had their own money counter going as they extracted stacks from the duffle bags so they could be counted and accounted for. "We ran into a little issue. Nothing you gotta worry about," Kaymen advised Jazzy as he quickly wrapped a rubber band around a stack of money.

Jazzy crudely smacked her lips as she turned to J'Ru. "What's going on?" she reiterated, knowing that she had a better chance of getting information from J'Ru than Kaymen.

J'Ru and Kaymen exchanged glances with each other as they continued to put the money through the money counters. They were both hoping the sound of the cash whirling through the machines would drown out Jazzy's questions. "So, no one hears me?" she asked.

"I told you that it's nothing for you to worry about," Kaymen stated once more with a much sterner tone.

She scoffed as she reached over the island, snatching the stack of money out of Kaymen's hand so she could wrap it in a rubber band. The three created a new system. Once the stacks flowed through the money counter, they would be handed off to Jazzy so she could rubber band them and then sit them aside. The three operated like a well-oiled machine, getting through the duffel bags quickly. Silence webbed between the three as they grew content with the sounds of the money machines.

"Does PJ know about this problem?" Jazzlyn asked, sparking the conversation once more.

Kaymen smacked his lips. "What part of you don't gotta worry about it you don't understand?" he asked her. He wasn't easy to get over on like J'Ru was when it came to Jazzy.