Page 4 of Imperial: The Corvidae Family

Dark brown skin, thick brows, that were jet black and matched the beared that covered the lower half of his face.

He had a mass of curls and spirals that were organized chaos covering his head with a shadow fade that was clean and tapered low.

His expression was cocky like he knew just how damn fine he was.

He had enough ink to make me think he was mildly obsessed with tattoos and shit, that smile.

He looked too damn comfortable and relaxed even though I was standing in front of him knowing exactly what he was. A killer, and the only thing I could think to say was, “Are you following me?”

I regretted the words immediately. His smirk deepened, like he found my attempt at confrontation amusing.

“That depends.” His voice was smooth and deeper than I expected.

“On what?”

He took his time setting his coffee down. “Do you want me to be?”

“I don’t know who you are and I don’t care. I just want to be left alone.”

Lies. Lies. Lies.

You want him following you right to your apartment so that you can ride his face, Baylyn…

He knew it and so did I. If I really wanted to be left alone, I wouldn’t have walked over here. He chuckled and the sound vibrated through me in the best and worst ways.

“You sure?” He questioned smugly.

I had completely lost control of this conversation. His eyes landed on me in a way that wasn’t overly intrusive but more like he was cataloging every detail about me.

“You can relax. I’m just here for coffee.”

His eyes dropped to the cup like he wanted me to accept that him being here wasn’t intentional.

This man was officially stalking me…

“I don’t believe in coincidences.”

“Good. You shouldn’t.”

Well shit, he wasn’t denying it. I should have ended the conversation there but something in me refused to back down. The same part that had kept me from running from his fine ass last night.

“You’re not scared. That’s interesting and not what I expected.”

“Should I be scared ?”

He leaned back, angling his head to the side and lifting his cup again, causing the tattoos along his forearms to flex. “I don’t know, Baylyn. Should you be?”

My stomach dropped. He knew my name which meant he looked me up. What the hell else did he know about me.

Where you get your coffee dumb ass…

I tried to keep my reaction neutral. He didn’t smile this time, only studied me with those damn intense eyes.

“Who are you?” I demanded with a scowl.

“You don’t need to know that yet.”

Yet .

“Yet implies that you’re going to keep showing up in my life?”

“You sound disappointed.” That cocky smile of his was back.

“More like annoyed,” I corrected.

Lies.

“You can relax beautiful. I just wanted to see how well you kept secrets. You haven’t told anyone about last night. The cops, your boss, your friends .”

How the hell did he know who I talked to?

“Also, interesting ,” he added.

“And if I had?”

Girl is your stupid meter stuck. Why they hell do you care. Walk away from this crazy ass man and stop asking him questions.

“You didn’t so we don’t have to worry about that do we?”

He was right and so damn confident about it. Some twisted part of me had me still standing here instead of walking away.

“Can you please just leave me alone?” I frowned and he smiled shaking his head. The arrogance in that simple gesture was loud.

“Nah, can’t do that.”

I groaned and I turned to leave, but before I made it to the door he was speaking again.

“I’ll see you around, Baylyn.”

It wasn’t a threat. It was a promise and one I had no doubt he planned on keeping and my delusional ass wanted him to.

I threw myself into work, hoping if I focused on emails, vendors, and impossible client requests, I wouldn’t have to think about my stalker or the way his voice landed in me when he said my name like he owned it.

I couldn’t get his intense eyes and sexy smile out of my head or the fact that I no longer had visions of him hovering over that body in the hallway and instead had visions of him naked over me .

Girl, you need your head checked!

Sighing through my delusion, I focused on the luxury gender reveal I was working on for a couple who had more money than sense.

Tae handed this one to me personally, trusting me to handle the details while she focused on a celebrity engagement party for Jabari Hicks that was happening the same weekend.

I was pissed because even if he was getting married all his fine ass unmarried teammates would be there.

But at least I would be the one at the wedding on the day of because Tae would be in New York with another client who requested to have her in attendance or they refused to let us plan their event.

With the amount of money they were willing to spend, Tae made an executive decision.

I clicked into the digital concept board I put together, scanning the list to make sure things were right.

The venue was an exclusive country estate just outside the city, near Blue Mountain Resort that had manufactured green lawns and a grand marble terrace for the reveal.

Every detail would be perfect for optics.

The color scheme was champagne, ivory, and gold. Elegant and gender-neutral until the moment of the announcement. The reveal would be a custom fireworks display over the estate’s lake, programmed to ignite in either a deep blue or bright pink.

And of course the luxury add-ons of personalized cocktail menus, monogrammed silk napkins, and a string quartet flown in from New York for vibes and atmosphere.

I pulled up my emails, reviewing the latest round of vendor confirmations and client demands feeling annoyed at the latest one.

Mrs. Ridgeway had changed her mind about the floral arrangements again .

Apparently, peonies were too common and she wanted imported roses from a French garden with a three- month waiting list. Her husband decided he wanted a private lounge for his friends.

Because nothing said “celebrating new life” like a cigar and liquor bar tucked away from the actual party.

I shook my head. Rich people had no idea what to do with their money.

Cami appeared at my desk, drinking what I was sure was her third coffee of the day because just like me, she had a caffeine addiction. “You looked focused as hell. What disaster are we putting out now?”

“Girl you already know. People spending an obscene amount of money to impress their friends,” I mumbled replying to the email that it was received.

She grinned, dropping down in the chair across from me. “I mean, to be fair, I wouldn’t mind throwing myself an over-the-top party every time I accomplished something.”

I clicked through my checklist. “Well, when you marry a billionaire, I’ll plan your gender reveal too.”

“Perfect. Make sure my obnoxiously wealthy husband knows I need at least five outfit changes.”

She lifted her phone, sucked her teeth when she glanced at the screen and then lifted from the chair she had just settled into. “Shit, gotta go. Duty calls.”

I grinned but the moment didn’t last long because as soon as Cami left my iPad pinged with a notification from WCFS-TV. As soon as I glanced at the screen my fingers were tapping the news app and the headline made me frown.

"Still no Leads on the Local Real Estate Developer Found Dead in a Private Club After Attending a Gala for the Kingston Foundation."

My stomach tightened. I clicked the article and scanned the details.

Warren Devon. The asshole everyone at the event was complaining about.

He deserved it .

What the hell was wrong with me?

I had never wished death on anyone but for a split second, I was relieved by what happened to him and that was unsettling and oddly satisfying. I closed out of the article and set my iPad down. I needed to get out of my own head.

I reached for my phone instead, hoping mindless scrolling would help.

That was when I saw a notification from last night and blinked at the top of my screen.

New follower request: @BLKVOID

I frowned, clicking into the account. There wasn’t a profile picture, only a black circle but it wasn’t a fake account.

There were posts of random images, all carefully framed which meant the person cared about the aesthetics.

A shot of a glass of brown liquor on a table.

One of a hand on a steering wheel exposing inked fingers and another one of a man’s profile highlighting neck tattoos.

Tattoos I recognized…

No faces to identify but subtle clues about the man who owned the page.

The photos were discrete. I hesitated but curiosity won.

I hit follow and smiled because I knew exactly who the person was.

Now I needed to finish up here so I could meet my bestie later.

If nothing else, she would keep my mind occupied.

The scent of lavender and eucalyptus filled the air as I sank deeper into the plush leather chair sighing as the warm water swirled around my feet. Tranquil Breeze was one of my favorite places with its oversized chairs and a staff that pampered you like royalty.

Rachelle was beside me and sighed just as satisfied, stretching her legs as a technician massaged her calves. “Girl, I don’t know why we don’t come here more often. This place is heaven.”

I glanced at her over the rim of my mimosa. “Because you always cancel at the last minute.”

“First of all, rude. Second of all, my job is a disaster zone half the time. I can’t help that people don’t know how to function without me. I am the holy grail boo.”

This was exactly what I needed. Something normal . Rachelle looked at me, arching a brow. “So, tell me about last night, friend! Any rich men propose to you? Did they demand gold-dipped strawberries?”

“No proposals, but one of the guests did try to file a complaint because his filet mignon wasn’t medium rare enough.”

“Of course he did.” She rolled her eyes.