Page 9 of Blake University HBCU Chronicles: Nuri & Silas

"I'ont know how the fuck it happened, but somebody got live footage, and I ain’t talkin’ blurry shit. I mean pictures… live clips. You and Nuri. Last night. Walking out the club together wit’cho hand on her thigh.”

"The fuck? Who got footage?" He asked calmly.

Silas’ heart didn’t race.

His breathing didn’t shift.

But his mind went haywire.

"I'm already on it boss, tryna figure out who the fuck would have motive to be watching you. Whoever it was knew what angle to use. Where to stand. How to move without bein’ seen." Silas' thoughts went haywire.

Silas clenched his jaw because he understood that kind of exposure wasn’t just dangerous and messy. It was bait.

“That ain’t all, boss,” Memphis said, releasing a deep sigh. "I peeped that nigga Tree choppin' it up with the Superintendent, and was in his office for longer than twenty minutes."

Silas nodded once.

Didn’t flinch.

Didn’t raise his voice.

“Tree.”

“Yup.”

"Both them muthafuckas know not to play wit' me," Silas snapped. "Find out what the fuck all that shit is about. I'll be in touch."

“I’m watchin’ that nigga, and I already tapped his line.”

“Good deal,” Silas said quietly. “Watch both them muthafuckas, and get in touch wit’ Dro.”

Silas ended the call without another word.

Placed the phone down on the counter, and he knew it was coming.

That storm energy had seeped in right after he’d had the time of his life.

He didn’t have all the answers yet, but the moment his name got attached to a scandal with Nuri, the superintendent’s daughter—it became war.

He had a tough decision to make for himself, and one that was made automatically when it came to Nuri.

Beyond the explosive love they’d made, Nuri was one of those women that was meant to be in the spotlight and destined for greatness.

Therefore, Silas knew he needed to fight for her, not because she was weak, but because he knew her light wasn’t built for the dirt that threatened to taint her reputation.

Some men destroyed their enemies with bullets.

Some with money.

But, Silas… he destroyed muthafuckas by outsmarting them with moves made in the dark, with power no one could trace… and with vengeance served cold, clean, and impossible to outrun. Somebody was gone regret the day they decided to fuck with him.

The sun caused a glow that radiated over Blake University.

The speakers came alive and Pardison Fontaine he blended in—but anyone paying attention could feel his presence.

He wasn’t there just for show. He was there because his word went out, and promises were meant to be kept.

Just like moths to a flame, Nuri maneuvered through the thick crowd, confidence in her step, her hands swinging at her sides like she had nothing to prove but everything to say as she found her way to him.

“Hey Professor Sullivan,” she said, lips slick with Fenty , teasing like sin in a Sunday dress.

Silas gave her that look—the one that peeled panties, and made women forget every warning their homegirl whispered the night before.

He chuckled, but didn’t miss a beat. “Didn’t I tell yo’ ass not to call me that, Miss Sinclair?”

“Not you checkin’ me,” she laughed.

He kept a respectable distance, but leaned in just enough to make her breath catch. “You heard me.”

Nuri giggled. “Y’all killed that routine. Had me workin’ overtime to tame these wild thoughts of mine.”

“You a wild girl?”

“You would know.”

Before the heat could build any further, Bre interrupted, grabbing Nuri’s wrist. “Come on, boo. We gotta get ready for the next step.”

Nuri’s lips parted, like she was about to say something slick—but she let herself get pulled away, as she glanced over her shoulder at Silas one last time.

Ten minutes later, 5th Ward Weebie’s Bend It Ova dropped like a bomb, and that’s exactly what the VETA’s did—and they didn’t disappoint.

They shook everything God gave them with precision and the crowd ate it up.

The eyes of all the guys present were glued to their asses while all the other ladies joined in with them.

Every guy in the crowd approved, mouths open, and phones raised.

Moments like this couldn’t be recreated, they were authentic, and would live in the memories of every college student in attendance forever.

Silas stayed in the cut watching. His jaw tight, and his hands clenched together in front of him because that was his ass out there moving like it needed to be tamed. That shit didn’t sit right with him. He wasn’t the jealous type. He was the territorial type. Very possessive.

Silas wasn’t here to make a scene. Nuri belonged to him now—even if she didn’t know just how deep she was in.

He had a different type of fire to put out though, so he left it alone for the time being, but then his phone buzzed.

He already knew what time it was, and without checking his phone, he knew it was Memphis.

He didn’t answer, just gave Nuri one more look.

Took in her smile, her skin, and the way she laughed like life was good and easy.

She didn’t know it yet, but shit was about to shift.

He turned, slid the phone from his pocket, and left after slapping hands with his frat brothers.

Somebody had started something they couldn’t finish, and Silas was prepared to remind them why he was never the one to play with.

As the crowd roared and Nuri performed, Silas took one last look—locked her into memory, then turned to leave.