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Britain shook her head. She felt like Priest wasn't understanding her perspective of things. He was so focused on being remorseful enough to convince her to stay, he was missing the point. She massaged her temples in hopes of calming herself down. Her frustration was causing her anger to brew, and the last thing she wanted was to explode on him.

"You're not understanding. You taking on that role shouldn't have been a conversation period. I didn't come all this way to be the king pin's wife. As a couple, we made the decision to relocate for your betterment. Do you not understand how it looks now that we're out here and instead of you moving forward, you dragged your ass right back to what you were fleeing in the firstplace? I feel played. It's a bad look, especially when my mother warned me of this exact situation happening."

"Britain, when have I ever not kept my word to you? I would never mislead you into thinking I was going to do something and not get it done. What you have sacrificed and done for me will never be overlooked, and I will never take advantage of it," he assured her. He didn't want her thinking he was trying to get over on her. He was still going to uphold his end of the bargain.

She shook her head. She still didn't think he was understanding and seeing things from her perspective. "Priest, you saying all of this won't help the fact that you agreed to the job and there is no way out of it now. I'm angry that you did that, and no matter how much you apologize, it won't help the fact that I feel like I gave away everything just so you could lose nothing and go back to the same thing. For that, I think I deserve some space just so I can get some clarity."

It was clear to Britain that Priest couldn't go back on the word he gave to Suzette. She had no choice but to just deal with it. A part of her felt as though he was aware of that, which was why he agreed to take on this business venture with Suzette in the first place. This made her feel exactly how she used to feel in her past relationship: weak and naïve.

Pursing his lips, he nodded his head. "Alright," he agreed before clearing his throat. Apologies had been made, and it seemed like neither had gotten to the point of acceptance. Priest didn't want her leaving, and she was still baffled by his choice to disregard everything he promised her when it came to Italy.

The two sat in a thick silence, neither bothering to say a word to break it. She aimlessly stared at her packed suitcase, and his dark brown eyes peered at her. He was sure if he said anything, it would be another apology pouring out of him. She heard enough of those.

He reached over, cupping her hand in his. Seamlessly, their fingers intertwined together. He lifted her hand up to his lips, making sure to place an extra number of kisses onto her ring, giving her a slight reminder that this wouldn't be the end of their relationship.

Amused, Britain rolled her eyes with a light laugh. "I'm upset, but I still love you," she admitted. "That's why I unpacked."

With a light smile, he extended his arm across her shoulder, pulling her closer. "I love you too," he professed while sitting a kiss at the top of her head. "I'm gonna make this shit up to you. Don’t count me out yet."

Britain rested her head on his chest, listening to his strong and steady heartbeat channel through her ears. "Don't tell me. Show me," she advised him. That was something he used to say whenever he wanted her to understand how in love he was with her. He was well aware that actions spoke louder than words. Now was the time to put the little saying into full effect.

Priest nodded in confirmation. "You got my word." He sealed his promise by placing his right hand over his heart.

THENEXT DAY

As Priest misted his pulse points with his Creed cologne, he looked himself over in the mirror. The navy-blue Palm Angels tracksuit did him well as his fresh white tee peeked from underneath the zipped jacket. As he eyed himself in the mirror, he could see Britain leaning against the threshold of the bedroom door admiring him. "You alright?" he asked, a bit concerned by the distant look that webbed her eyes.

A curt sigh eased out of Britain as she nodded her head. "Yeah," she confirmed. The two hadn't made complete amends,but there wasn't any thick hostility between the two. They were still affectionate and loving toward each other, but Britain had her mind set on leaving for New York for however long she needed to.

Extending her arm from behind her back, she revealed one of the new pairs of porcelain white Air Force 1's he had Catarina pick up from the galleria. Priest had a surplus of shoes, and for the sake of never being without options, he made sure to stack up on as many cocaine white Air Force 1's as he could. When Catarina came in hauling seven boxes of the same shoe, Britain couldn't help but roll her eyes. A light smirk etched Priest's face as he rotated around to take the shoe box from her.

"‘Preciate it," he thanked her.

Britain folded her arms across her chest as she resumed leaning against the threshold of the door. "And so, it begins." She motioned her hand towards Priest.

Furrowing his brows, he shot her a questioning look. "What begins?" he asked as he extracted one of the sneakers out of the box to lace it up to his liking.

Britain brushed some of her hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. Her shoulders motioned up and down in a shrug. "Y'know, the early mornings and the late nights."

It was now crystal clear to him what she was alluding to. It prompted a deep sigh to drift out of her. "That's not what this is at all," he denied, shaking his head.

She stepped further into the bedroom, shutting the door behind her. "Then what is it? An empire of a business just got handed over to you yesterday, so of course you're heading out early and coming in late because you have to run everything just like you did back in New York," she explained to him smugly. The hostility and tension he thought they didn't have had begun brewing between them, and she was getting upset all over again.

He smacked his lips lightly as he shook his head. He didn't bother to look up at Britain. Instead, he continued to lace his sneakers, being sure to keep the laces equal on both sides. "Britain, if you want to know where I'm headed, all you have to do is ask. You don't need to tip toe around the question like I'm hiding anything. We grown," he advised her.

Britain placed her hands on her hips as she gazed at him. "Okay, where are you going?" she outwardly asked him.

Priest shifted his attention from his sneakers, setting it on her. She stood before him, her brown orbs hawking him, awaiting an answer. "Was that so hard to ask?" He smirked as he tilted his head to the side.

"Priest, we're not at a point where you can joke right now," she warned him.

"Alright." He nodded as he sat the shoe aside momentarily. She watched as he reached over to the nightstand near their bed, grabbing ahold of a business card. He handed it over to her so she could read it.

She held the card in her hands, reading over the serif print that inked it. "Havani Tucker," Britain read the name aloud. "Who is this?"

"She was my therapist when I first came out here, before I started unloading my trauma onto you," he enlightened her. He still offered her no eye contact, now shifting his focus over to the second shoe so he could lace it up just like he did the other.

Britain pursed her lips, feeling bad that she had just hounded him, assuming that he jumped right into the swing of Suzette and Matteo's operation. "You didn't tell me you did any counseling," she said, extending the business card back to him.