Page 19 of Imperial: The Corvidae Family

“Why the hell do your co-workings know about my personal shit?”

“Girl relax. They don’t know you and I didn’t tell them who or the details. Just the situation after you played in my face trying to keep this from me.”

My mouth fell open. “And you placed bets on my personal life?”

She grinned. “Just a small office pool but don’t worry, I won. I knew that man was gonna slut you out because you were trying too hard to act like it wasn’t a thing. You owe me lunch, friend.”

I groaned, throwing a pillow at her again, but she just caught it, laughing.

“Alright, fine, I’ll give you a break,” she said, smirking. “But just know, the second I get one drink in me later, I’m gonna be asking for all the details.”

“Why are we friends?”

“Because I’m amazing.” She stood up, stretching. “Now, let me get dressed. We’re going shopping. You need sexy things to keep this glow up.”

My stomach flipped at the thought of putting on something sexy because the first thing that came to mind was Emir taking it off.

We hit Shops at Crescent Falls first, stopping at every store that piqued our interest with no agenda other than to spend money and talk shit.

At some point, we wandered into the lingerie boutique Kameron Tyler had just opened.

She was the Black designer. Her black labels were expensive and exclusive but she recently started an affordable line that still carried the same quality of her original brand.

Rachelle immediately started grabbing things off the racks.

“Oooooh, Baylyn,” she sang, holding up a red lace set that barely covered anything. “This is so you.”

“That’s see through.”

“Exactly,” she said, tossing it over her arm. “It’s sexy.”

I sighed, running my fingers over a rack of silk robes. I hesitated before picking up a black one with lace trim.

“Ohhhh. So you are thinking about him.”

“It’s just a robe.”

“Mmhmm. And I bet he would love to see you in it...or out of it.” She stuck her tongue out.

I ignored her and headed to the dressing room, but she wasn’t wrong.

I picked up a matching black lace set too. After we were done we stopped at a Brewed Bean, indulging in fancy pastries and lattes because why not? I was in the middle of taking a bite of my cheesecake square when my phone vibrated.

Emir: What are you up to, beautiful?

I smiled drinking my latte.

Me: Shopping. Girls' day with Rachelle.

Emir: You having fun?

Me: Yes. What are you doing?

Emir: Thinking about your pussy and wishing I was in it.

My stomach flipped.

Rachelle caught the expression on my face immediately.

“Oh my God,” she whined. “He texted you, didn’t he?”

I tried to fight my smile, but it was too late.

She groaned dramatically. “You’re officially a goner. It’s disgustingly cute.”

I laughed. “Shut up.”

But she was right.

And I didn’t even care. I texted Emir back that he had an open invitation then locked my phone so I didn’t bail on my girl and go wherever he was.

"Let’s go out," Rachelle said suddenly, spinning in her seat.

"Out where?"

"A lounge. Somewhere fun where we can get cute, drink, and dance."

I hesitated for a second. Going out wasn’t exactly on my agenda, but I missed my girl and it had been a while. Plus I didn’t want to get too comfortable spending all my time with Emir.

“Fine,” I sighed, feigning reluctance.

Rachelle grinned. “Don’t act like you don’t want to be in these streets with me!”

She immediately pulled out her phone and started looking up spots. After some quick searching, we settled on Black Diamonds. The vibe was always chill, I loved the glass bars, live DJ, and the drinks they blended with Black Ops were unparalleled.

It was perfect.

We stopped by my place so I could grab my stuff then headed to Rachelle’s to get ready for later. We chilled until about nine before changing into full glam mode.

I kept my outfit cute and sexy, a fitted, all-black mini dress with a deep neckline, paired with gold strappy heels. My hair was still in soft waves from earlier and I added a bold lip to finish the look.

Rachelle, of course, went for drama, a tight, silver satin dress that clung to her body with perfection and barely covered her ass, paired with her signature gold jewelry.

By the time we were both dressed, I checked my phone and there was no text from Emir so I shifted into girl mode and focused on my night with Rachelle.

I snapped a quick mirror selfie of Rachelle and me and posted it to my story with the caption...

We’re outside…

Black Diamonds was packed but not overwhelming.

Most of the tables down here were tall but there were a few exclusives near one of the bars with plush, black, leather, tall booths for privacy.

We lucked up and grabbed one, ordered drinks, and let the night settle around us. As expected, men noticed.

“Damn,” Rachelle smiled over the rim of her glass. “We’ve been here five minutes and these dudes are already plotting.”

I laughed, stirring my drink. “You act like you don’t love it.”

“I do,” she admitted, flipping her braids over one shoulder. “And you should too.”

Before I could respond, the waitress reappeared at our table, holding two fresh glasses of champagne.

She smiled, setting them down. “These are from a gentleman across the room.”

My heart jumped. I immediately thought of Emir. Had he seen my story? Did he know we were here? I reached for my phone and snapped a picture of the glasses against the candlelit table.

The caption came effortlessly:

He always knows what I like.

I didn’t name him and didn’t tag anyone. Just let the words speak for themselves. I uploaded the post to my page and drank, savoring the bubbles knowing Emir was going to see the post.

Eventually a like floated onto my screen but not from the account I knew was Emir’s. It was the one I had assumed was him but didn’t have confirmation on. My stomach tightened.

I frowned, clicking the profile, but the page was still the same, no new pictures, no name, just a dark, nondescript aesthetic. Before I could think too hard about it, Rachelle snapped her fingers in my face.

“Hello?”

I blinked. “What?”

“Girl, you just checked out hard as hell. What happened?”

I hesitated, debating if I should mention the weird page and likes.

“…Nothing.”

She gave me a suspicious look but let it go.

"Alright, well, I’m letting you know now, I’m engaging tonight." She motioned toward a group of guys eyeing our table.

“What happened to Mr. Sweet Accountant?”

“Sweet fucks too soft. I’m back up on my bullshit.”

I laughed. “I figured.”

“You sure you don’t wanna talk to anyone?” she teased, nudging me. “We could double up.”

I shook my head, smirking. “I’m good.”

Her brow lifted and she grinned. “Oooooh. Emir got you acting right already.”

I ignored her. About twenty minutes later, were off again.

I got that weird feeling like someone was watching.

I casually glanced around the lounge, scanning the crowd and my eyes landed on a man who appeared out of place.

He leaned against the bar, watching me a little too hard.

My stomach twisted because he smiled like he knew me, or wanted to, which had me wondering if he had sent the drinks?

I kept my expression neutral and looked away, pretending I didn’t notice him.

The last thing I wanted was drama tonight. Rachelle was blissfully unaware of my thoughts, dragging me to the dance floor, and I was grateful for the forced escape.

"Come on, let’s have fun!" she yelled over the music.

She pull me into the crowd and the heavy bass of the song that was playing vibrated the floor as we moved.

It was easy to get lost in the music, let go of my thoughts, and just be present.

Rachelle danced with a tall guy in a navy-blue button-down who looked too preppy for her but she was half tipsy and didn’t care.

I kept to myself, swaying solo. I wasn’t in the mood to entertain anyone, well at least not any of these men.

On impulse, I pulled out my phone and recorded a quick video of Rachelle and me dancing, laughing, living our best lives, and uploaded it to my story. Within seconds, the new page liked it.

I froze. It wasn’t Emir. Couldn’t be. So who the hell was it? A strange unease settled in my stomach. I tried not to let it show. The night had been exactly what I needed. Chilling with my girl having fun and completely drama-free.

Rachelle and I danced until our feet ached, drank just enough to keep a buzz but not be sloppy, and laughed so hard my stomach hurt. By the time we walked out of the lounge, the night air wrapped around us, cooling my skin after hours of being inside with the heat of bodies on the dance floor.

“Damn, my feet hurt,” Rachelle whined, reaching into her bag for her emergency flats. I grinned, unlocking my car from a few feet away. “That’s what you get for wearing stilettos knowing we were gonna dance all night.”

She shot me a glare. “Whatever. I looked good as hell, friend.”

I laughed and continued toward my car, feeling light and happy until I saw what was on it. I stopped walking. Rachelle was mid-rant about her shoes and almost bumped into me. “Damn, girl, give me a warning next time?—”

She followed my eyes and her sentence was cut off because resting dead center on my windshield was a bouquet of wilted black roses.

The petals were shriveled and curling at the edges.

The stems looked dry, almost rotted. My stomach tightened.

Emir had sent me these exact roses before. Only those had been beautiful.

Rachelle was the first to break the silence.

“Okay, uh… what the hell?”

I forced my body to move again. I stepped closer, staring down at the bouquet like it would suddenly explain itself. Rachelle hesitated, then moved with me. “Are these…?”

Her voice trailed off, but I already knew the question.

The answer sat on my Skroll page. The picture of Emir’s roses. The ones I had posted weeks ago. Rachelle’s eyes shifted toward me with her brows pinched. “Baylyn, these are just like the ones on your page.”

My fingers tightened around my keys.

“What the fuck?” she muttered, glancing around the parking lot. “Who the hell even knew we were here?”

I thought about the drinks that were sent to us.

The mystery page liking my posts and the way that man at the bar had been watching me too intently.

I wasn’t fearful but it was uncomfortable.

Something wasn’t right but I also wouldn’t say that out loud.

I forced my expression into a neutral one and shook my head. “It’s probably some weird coincidence.”

Rachelle gave me a look. “A coincidence? Girl, be serious. Someone left dead flowers on your car. That’s not random.”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s some kind of prank?”

She scoffed. “A prank? From who? The same mystery person who sent the ones a few weeks ago. That was Emir, right?”

I stayed quiet because I didn’t have an answer.

Her voice softened. “Baylyn, was it Emir? Are y’all fighting or something?”

I turned to her quickly, shaking my head. “No. He wouldn’t do something like this.”

I said it with certainty because I knew him. Emir wouldn’t send a message like this. If he wanted me to know he was watching, he’d tell me directly. There wouldn’t be games. No theatrics.

Which meant…

This wasn’t him but it had to be connected to him somehow. I could feel it. Something from his world was crossing over to mine. I swallowed that thought and turned back to Rachelle with a casual shrug.

“Seriously, it’s nothing.”

She didn’t look convinced. “Baylyn?—”

“Rach, it’s fine.” I cut her off keeping my voice light, dismissive. “Some random idiot probably thought it’d be funny. Let’s just go.”

She stared at me a second longer with her lips pressed into a thin line, but finally nodded. “Fine. But I don’t like this shit.”

I forced a smile. “Can we not like it in the car because standing out here exposed is not the move.”

I pulled my door open, grabbed the bouquet without another glance, and tossed it to the ground before getting into the driver’s seat.

Rachelle got in beside me, still frowning. She didn’t say anything else. I could feel her thoughts and they mirrored mine. She also wasn’t the only one concerned. I just wasn’t ready to admit that I was too.