Page 33 of Certified Pressure 2

But it was too late. The cracks was showing. Silky straightened up like she wasn’t fazed, but her eyes cut at Sterling, and he looked everywhere but at her.

I sat back, watchin’ all this shit unfold, and it hit me that Kashmere wasn’t lyin’ when she told me her family was messy.

They loved each other, sure, but there was a lot of pain under that roof, and it leaked out in every word.

For the first time, I saw her not just as the wild, sexy woman in front of me but as the product of all this damn dysfunction.

And that shit, more than anything, made me look at her different.

We finished lunch, but the vibe was off. Silky kept tryin’ to act unbothered, Sterling kept the peace by changin’ the subject, and Kashmere sat quiet next to me, her hand grippin’ mine under the table like she needed an anchor.

After lunch, me and Kashmere’s pops lit the cigars he gifted me and took a walk around the estate.

The chef had laid us out good, but I knew we both needed a lil’ air after all that tension at the table.

Sterling struck the match himself, touched the flame to his cigar, and puffed like a man who’d been doin’ this all his life.

I followed suit, tastin’ that smooth Cuban flavor he blessed me with, and I had to admit, dude had good taste.

Sterling was easy to kick it with once it was just us.

He talked about sports first, askin’ me who I had for the next championship and tellin’ me how he played ball in college before decidin’ the business world would pay him better.

He started talkin’ about golf, the courses he’d been on, how relaxin’ it was to get out there with a cigar and a drink and just swing away.

That wasn’t really my thing, but I respected the way he said it like it kept him sane.

Then he went into the charity work he did back home—fundin’ schools, hostin’ drives and puttin’ up money for programs that helped kids off the street.

I respected that, and the more he talked, the more I could see how Kashmere grew up with everything she wanted.

Sterling had done his job as a man. He made sure his wife and daughter never had to worry about the lights being on or if the bills was paid.

You could hear it in his voice too. He was proud, and he had every right to be.

We walked along the garden path that ran beside the pool, smoke curlin’ in the air between us. He paused for a second, lookin’ out over the estate like he was soakin’ it all in. Then he said, “What happened at that table earlier… that wasn’t for you to hear.”

I puffed my cigar, let the smoke roll out slow, and nodded. In my head I was thinking, no shit , but out loud I just said, “Ain’t no thing. Families argue. I ain’t judging.”

Sterling cut his eyes at me, and I could feel the weight behind it. “I always feared that the way I moved with Silky, the mistakes I made… would come back on me. I knew one day my daughter might fall for a man that treated her the same way I treated her mama.”

I glanced at him, and caught the hint in his voice.

He was tryna see if I was gon’ be the nigga to hurt his daughter.

In my head, I laughed a lil’, like what the fuck you think I’m out here for—practice?

But I kept it respectful. “I ain’t built like that,” I told him.

“Any woman I call my wife, I plan on committing to her. I don’t got time for all that other stuff… no disrespect.”

I didn’t say out loud how burnt out I was after havin’ damn near twenty women in my house at once.

This competition shit had taken everything outta me, and the last thing I had the mental strength to do was keep jugglin’ women once this shit was all said and done.

But that was for me to know, not for him.

Sterling nodded slow, puffed on his cigar, and we walked in silence for a lil’ while.

When we finally circled back toward the house, I could see Kashmere standin’ just inside the glass doors, watchin’ us.

Her eyes flicked to me, then to her mama, who was a few feet away with that same glossy smile plastered across her face.

“Thanks for the walk,” Sterling said, shakin’ my hand again.

“Thank you. It was much needed,” I told him, and he went inside.

That’s when Silky slid up on me, her heels clickin’ against the marble floor like she was announcing herself. She was flawless, like she ain’t aged a day since her twenties, and she carried herself like every man in the room was supposed to look twice.

“Pressure,” she said, her voice smooth as honey. “Can I have a word with you?”

I looked at Kashmere, and the stress in her eyes told me she already knew her mama was on bullshit. I wanted to say no, but outta respect, I nodded. “For sure.”

We stepped into one of the rooms off the main hall. Silky closed the door behind us, and I leaned on the arm of the couch, cigar in one hand, watchin’ her.

She started with small talk, askin’ how long I’d been in Trill-Land, what inspired me to build the estate the way I did and how I managed my businesses.

She was sharp, askin’ the type of questions that made her sound genuinely interested, but I could feel the edge under it.

It was like she wasn’t just tryna know me—she was tryna measure me.

“You’re impressive,” she finally said, walkin’ a lil’ closer. “Most men your age wouldn’t have the discipline to run what you run. You’ve built an empire already.”

I nodded, keepin’ my eyes on her. “Appreciate that.”

Her smile lingered as she looked me up and down. “But Kashmere… she’s not disciplined. She’s impulsive. She always has been. Beautiful, yes. Loyal, yes. But is that enough for a man like you? Honestly, Pressure… you need a mature woman.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. In my head I was thinkin’, if anybody loose, it’s yo’ ass, but I held my tongue.

She stepped closer, her heels soft against the rug now, and laid a hand on my chest. It was just a light touch, but it was enough to make my whole body tense.

I wasn’t scared of her, but I damn sure wasn’t expectin’ her to cross that line, especially while her fuckin’ husband and daughter was right outside the room.

I ain’t know what kind of freaky ass shit Silky and her husband was on, but I wasn’t feelin’ the shit at all. To say I was shocked and disturbed as fuck would be a fuckin’ understatement.

“You deserve someone who knows how to handle a man like you,” she said, her voice droppin’ lower. “Someone who won’t embarrass you. Someone who understands what it means to keep a man satisfied.”

Her perfume was strong, the kind of scent that clung to you long after the person left, and she was lookin’ at me like she wanted me to take the bait.

I didn’t move though. I just stared at her, thinkin’ about how wild this shit was.

Kashmere’s mama—bold as hell, talkin’ down on her daughter one second, and the next, tryna slide in her place. This old bitch wanted this dick.

She rubbed her hand across my chest again, slow this time. “Think about it, Pressure. You could have someone experienced… someone who wouldn’t make mistakes the way she does.”

I clenched my jaw and exhaled through my nose, keepin’ my voice calm. “Respectfully, Mrs. Charm, I ain’t with that. Kashmere’s my focus.”

She pouted a lil’, like she wasn’t used to being turned down, and before she could say more, there was a knock at the door. Kashmere’s voice carried through, shaky. “Pressure? You okay in there?”

I damn near thanked God. “Yeah, I’m here,” I called back.

Silky stepped back quick, fixin’ her dress, and smoothin’ her hair like nothin’ happened. I opened the door, and Kashmere stood there, her eyes dartin’ between me and her mama. I didn’t say a word. I just walked past both of them, feelin’ violated on too many levels.

As night fell, I sent the driver to take her parents back to their hotel. I sat alone after, the same cigar burnin’ down between my fingers, replayin’ everything in my head. Lunch was messy enough, but this with her mama tryna come on to me? I couldn’t believe the shit that went down in one day.

Imagine if I married Kashmere and had to deal with her mama tryna sample my dick like it’s hors d’oeuvres at our wedding reception.

But for real… if Kashmere ever found out just how bold her mama really was, I knew shit between them would never be the same.