Page 18

Kenyatta’s Impala rolled through the gated entrance of Bayfront Heights, the scenic coastal neighborhood looking like it belonged on the front of a billionaire’s magazine. The road was lined with palm trees and luxury vehicles, the kind of wealth that didn’t just flex; it whispered, making you feel the weight of money without it ever being spoken.

Kaliyah’s little face was glued to the window, eyes wide as they passed waterfront mansions, private yacht docks, and sleek infinity pools that shimmered under the early evening sun.

“Daddy…” her voice was full of awe, her small hands pressing against the glass. “Where we at?”

Kenyatta was in awe. “Somewhere we don’t belong.”

She turned to him, frowning slightly. “Then why we here?”

He exhaled, gripping the steering wheel. “‘Cause I guess I know somebody who do.”

And then…they pulled up.

Krys’ house sat on an elevated lot, modern and sleek, yet still warm in its design. The glass-paneled facade reflected the golden hues of the sunset, the sprawling driveway leading up to a three-car garage. The immaculate landscaping was curated to perfection, the backside of the estate spilling out into private waterfront views.

Kenyatta parked, but he didn’t move. Neither did Kaliyah. They just stared.

“This their house?” Kaliyah whispered, still looking out the window.

Kenyatta nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

“They rich?”

He huffed out a laugh. “Somethin’ like that.”

Kaliyah turned to him, her big brown eyes full of curiosity. “They got a pool?”

Kenyatta glanced at the massive home again, then nodded, uncertain. “I think so.”

A slow grin crept onto Kaliyah’s face as he and Kaliyah got out and made their way to the door. And Kenyatta couldn’t lie; even he was impressed.

The second Krys opened the door, the smell of expensive vanilla, clean linen, and something soft but feminine filled the air. She stood there in a silky fitted number, looking effortlessly polished, like this was just another day in her luxurious world.

She took in the sight of them both, then gave a warm smile. “Well…took y’all long enough.”

Kaliyah peeked from behind Kenyatta’s leg, her curiosity battling her shyness.

Krys tilted her head, smiling slightly. “Hey Miss Ma’am.”

Kaliyah’s fingers twisted in the hem of her hoodie, eyes flicking up at Krys briefly before looking away.

Krys crouched slightly, balancing effortlessly in her heels. “Well, I been hearing about you all week, so I’m glad I finally get to meet the famous Kaliyah.”

Kaliyah blinked at her, still unsure.

Krys smiled again, then added, “And between you and me, I think your daddy talks way too much.”

Kaliyah’s lips twitched. Then, the slightest giggle slipped out. Kenyatta raised a brow, completely off guard.

Krys grinned, standing up straight. “See? Told you we’d be cool.”

Kaliyah tried to keep her composure, but she stared at Krys like she was the prettiest person she had ever seen in real life. She didn’t say it out loud, but it was written all over her face.

Krys saw it too. She asked gently, “Wanna come inside?”

Kaliyah hesitated, then nodded.

Kenyatta was shocked. His daughter wasn’t rude, but she also wasn’t the type to just warm up to people instantly. It usually took time, trust, a certain level of effort. But with Krys, one moment in, and she already had Kaliyah on her team. Kenyatta wasn’t sure if he should be impressed or concerned.

The second they stepped inside, Musa was there.

Not in the way a regular dog would be; barking, wagging his tail, running up to greet them. Nah. Musa didn’t do all that.

Instead, he was stretched out near the sleek, glass coffee table, massive and regal, his glossy black coat soaking up the warm interior lighting. His golden eyes lifted lazily, sweeping over them in disinterest at first…until they landed on Kaliyah.

His expression didn’t change; it never did. But Kenyatta could tell he was making an assessment. Calculating. Measuring.

Kaliyah stilled at the sight of him, her little fingers curling into the fabric of her hoodie. She wasn’t exactly scared, but she wasn’t stepping too close either.

Krys noticed. “You can pet him if you want. He won’t bite. Unless I tell him to.”

Kaliyah’s big eyes flicked up at her, uncertain. Kenyatta grimaced, shaking his head. “That supposed to make her feel better?”

Krys just grinned. “Musa, come here.”

The dog stretched first; one of those exaggerated, bone-deep stretches, then moved toward Krys with a slow, measured gait, like he had all the time in the world. He was huge, damn near the size of a small horse, his muscular frame moving like he owned the place. Which, to be fair, he did.

Krys motioned toward Kaliyah. “She’s with me.”

That was all the instruction needed. Musa closed the distance, coming to a careful stop in front of Kaliyah, then lowered his giant head just enough to sniff at her hand. A test.

Kaliyah’s little shoulders stayed tight at first, but then, with careful hesitation, she lifted her hand and let it rest against his fur.

Musa didn’t flinch. Didn’t react. Just let her.

“Whoa…” Kaliyah whispered, fingers running over his smooth coat. “He’s soft.”

Kenyatta chuckled, watching her get comfortable. “Yeah, don’t let that fool you.”

Krys laughed. “Musa’s got a reputation, but he’s well-behaved.” She glanced at Kenyatta, lifting a brow. “Probably better trained than you.”

Kenyatta huffed, shaking his head. “Here you go.”

Musa let out a slow, uninterested yawn, completely unbothered, before turning and padding toward his usual spot near the sunken living room. His presence was always known, but never loud.

Kenyatta took in the house again, this time really looking.

Floor-to-ceiling windows. Open-concept layout, pristine furniture in a soft, expensive color palette. Marble floors, high-end art, an open floor plan that flowed seamlessly into a state-of-the-art kitchen, chandeliers that probably cost more than a car. Everything about the place screamed money, but not in a loud way; controlled wealth. The kind that didn’t need to flex.

“This where you live?” Kaliyah asked, her eyes bouncing between the high ceilings and elegant decor.

Krys nodded, leading them toward the spacious living room. “Yep.”

Kaliyah blinked. “By yourself?”

Krys gave a perky response. “Yep.”

Kenyatta sat on the arm of the couch, shaking his head. “Ain’t no way you need this much house for just you.”

Krys shrugged. “I like space.”

Kenyatta scoffed. “You could fit a whole village in here.”

Krys rolled her eyes and turned her attention to the shopping bags on the coffee table. “I got something for y’all.”

Kaliyah’s eyes widened as Krys pulled out a soft white designer dress, shoes to match, and a little gold bracelet.

“This mine?” Kaliyah asked hesitantly.

Krys nodded, handing it to her. “Yep. You gotta match your daddy.”

Kaliyah’s tiny fingers ran over the fabric, her excitement barely contained. She mumbled a shy, “Thank you.”

Krys smiled. “You’re welcome, baby.”

Kenyatta watched the entire interaction, something stirring in his chest.

Then Krys pulled out another bag and tossed it at him.

Kenyatta caught it, eyebrows raising when he peeked inside. Expensive. Classy but bold. Designer, but not too much.

He whistled lowly. “Damn. I ain’t wore shit like this in a minute.”

Krys smiled. “Well, tonight, you’re gonna remember what it feels like.”

Kenyatta pulled the outfit out, the feel of it triggering something inside him. It reminded him of who he used to be before prison, before his reality got flipped. He ran his fingers over the fabric, then looked at Krys.

“Damn,” he muttered. “You really went all out.”

Krys lifted a brow. “You think I’m about to show up with a man wearing basic shit?”

Kenyatta chuckled. “Nah, I see you got an image to protect.”

She smirked, grabbing her wine glass. “Exactly.”

Kaliyah ran her fingers over her dress again, then looked up. “Can I go change?”

Krys nodded. “Of course, baby. The guest room’s upstairs, second door on the left.”

Kaliyah took off running, excited.

Kenyatta watched her go, then looked back at Krys. “You got her wrapped around your finger already.”

Krys sipped her wine. “I tend to have that effect.”

His eyes casually assessing her. “That you do.”

She rolled her eyes. Quickly switching the mood back, she asked, “Is her mama White?”

He nodded. “Something like that.”

Krys tilted her head, amused. “So, is that your type?”

“Are you White?”

She knew what he was implying. Rolling her eyes, she glanced away from his gaze.

Kenyatta stood, stretching slightly. “That’s what I thought. Now let’s talk about this big-ass house.”

Krys groaned as he walked toward the floor-to-ceiling windows, peering outside.

“You got a damn infinity pool?”

She sighed. “Yes.”

He turned to her, leaning against the glass. “And you live here alone?”

Krys rolled her eyes. “Why does that keep shocking people?”

Kenyatta chuckled, tilting his head. “Because…ain’t no way you should be living this good, this fine, and this alone.”

Krys gave him a dry look. “You tryna flirt?”

Kenyatta smirked. “I ain’t trying.”

Krys shook her head, sipping her wine again to hide her smile.

Then Kenyatta lifted a brow, suddenly serious. “You really trust me enough to know where you live?”

Krys stared at him for a beat, then lifted a shoulder. “Should I?”

The way she said it, calm, controlled, and just a little challenging made Kenyatta chuckle lowly. “That’s a dangerous question, Bae.”

Krys simply smirked. “Then I guess we’ll find out.”

Musa let out another slow huff, like he was just as unimpressed with their banter as he was with everything else.

Kenyatta chuckled, shaking his head. “Yo, he coming with us?”

Krys leaned against the counter. “Nah, he’s fine right here.”

Kenyatta lifted a brow. “You sure? What if he get lonely?”

Krys sipped her wine. “Musa don’t get lonely. And if anybody’s stupid enough to try him?” She tilted her head toward the dog, who was stretched out but still alert. “They won’t make it past my front door.”

Kenyatta chuckled, rubbing his chin. “Yeah…I believe that.”

Musa let out a deep sigh, closing his eyes, as if even the suggestion that he needed protection was beneath him.

Krys smiled. “Told you. He’s good.”

Kenyatta shook his head. “Man…this house, this dog…you really out here living different.”

Krys lifted a brow, playful. “You jealous?”

Kenyatta just smirked. “Nah. I just know you ain’t as lowkey as you act.”

She dismissed him with a wave. “Whatever. Can you go get changed?”

“Sure, Bae. Let’s go show me off.”

Krys chuckled, shaking her head. “You mean us .”

Kenyatta leaned in slightly. “You ain’t gotta hype me up. I know I’m the main attraction.”

Krys rolled her eyes. “Just put the damn outfit on, Yatta.”

Kenyatta grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”

To them both, that sounded a little too natural.