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I a i n ’ t n e v e r pictured myself on no damn honeymoon. That was some fairytale shit I didn’t think gangstas like me got to live. But there I was—on a private island on the coast of Belize—watching my wife sway through white sand in a silk robe that barely covered that body I couldn’t get enough of. And her little baby bump? That shit had me grinning like I ain’t have bodies buried across five states.

Parker was glowing. Skin smooth and gleaming under the sun. Belly just poking out enough to remind me that I did that. Planted something real in her ass. And it was crazy because even with all the blood I got on my hands, she still chose to love me. Or maybe she ain’t had a choice—after all, I claimed her from the beginning.

“You gon’ stare or come rub this baby oil in?”

she called over her shoulder, looking back with a smirk that made my dick twitch.

I walked over slowly, lazy with it, eyes raking down her thighs. “You askin’ or beggin’, ma?”

“I don’t beg, remember?”

she teased, lying back on the lounger.

I chuckled. “That right?”

The waves crashed behind us. Gulls cried overhead. The scent of coconuts and grilled lobster wafted through the salty breeze. I lowered myself to my knees, pulled her robe open, and palmed that stomach first. I kissed just under her navel before I slicked oil across her soft skin with slow, circular strokes.

“You good?”

I murmured against her belly.

She nodded, breath hitching when I slipped my hand higher, brushing over a nipple on 'accident.’ “Sebastian…”

“What?”

I said innocently, kissing her collarbone. “I’m just followin’ orders. Rubbin’ the oil in.”

Her laugh was low and husky. “You’re trouble.”

“Nah, trouble is the nigga over there on the deck starin’ at you like he tryna memorize how your ass move.”

She froze, brows furrowed. “What? Where—”

“Don’t worry about it,”

I growled, rising to my feet.

“, don’t start nothing!”

But I was already moving. Nigga was leaned against the bar with sunglasses on, sipping some overpriced island drink and staring my woman like he ain’t know she was spoken for. And maybe he didn’t. But he was about to learn.

I stepped to him and he barely had time to react before I cracked him in the face so hard he dropped his drink and his shades. Body hit the deck hard, drawing stares from everybody.

His boy rushed over. “Yo, it’s not that serious!”

I just looked down at the dude on the deck holding his bloody nose and said, “Next time you look at a man’s wife, make sure you ready to get fucked up over it.”

I turned back toward Parker, who had her face in her hands, laughing despite herself. Security rushed over—our security. I waved them off. I was good.

Back on the sand, Parker was shaking her head when I approached. “You embarrassed me,”

she said, eyes dancing. “Again.”

“Nah,”

I said, brushing my thumb over her lip. “I protected what’s mine.”

“That’s what you call it?”

“Parker,”

I said, voice low. “Every muthafucka gon’ know that you’re mine. That ring on your finger? That baby in your belly? Your heart? All of that shit is mine. And anybody breathe your name wrong, stare too long, blink outta place gon’ find out exactly what it means to be claimed by a nigga like me.”

She stared at me like she could see all the ugly behind the love, and loved me anyway. I pulled her close, kissed her slowly, and let the whole damn island know what was up.

I had everything I ever wanted. Power. Territory. Respect. But this? This woman curled against me on a beach I owned, carrying my baby and making me crash out behind her—that was the one thing I didn’t know I needed until I had it.

The past few weeks hadn’t just been about love and lust either. I’d been expanding shit—quietly but aggressively. New routes. Cleaner fronts. Fewer weak links. Parker didn’t know the full details, and I wasn’t about to dump that weight on her, but I’d been moving in silence, setting up an empire that wouldn’t crumble like the ones before me.

I’d even been working on shit with my father too. Slowly. This nigga was old and stubborn, and so was I, but after everything that went down, we saw each other clearer. I wasn’t tryna be his clone, and he finally understood I wasn’t here to be his shadow either. We had a long way to go, but at least now, we were talking more like father and son instead of just businessmen. Parker made all that happen and I respected the fuck out of that. I loved her.

This shit might’ve started this shit with a mission to control her, to tame her, to break her into the kind of wife I thought I needed. But now, I just needed her for real. I needed her love and loyalty and her ass wasn’t going no fuckin’ where.