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We will survive these attacks that are coming. I’m tired as hell, and I know my man is. I don’t have time to be down and out, though. Right now, is when I’ll have to be the strongest. This is the time for me to stand up and hold things down.

Zaire’s been on the go since Damascus’ visit the other day. He’s been an essential player in Zaire’s claim to power, and he always helps keep my man on his toes. I respect and love Damascus greatly, so I hope that whatever that meeting was about will help us get back on top again.

Zaire and I haven’t spent much time together, but I did just see him at Pam’s place while I was helping her with the funeral arrangements.

He said he was about to roll out and handle some things, but I have an eerie feeling that something’s about to go down.

I’ve headed back home to chill with my sister. She’s been sick a lot lately, and I need to check on Riley.

I honestly think that most of what’s going on with her, as it relates to her sickness, has more to do with her grieving Kenny than anything. I think she doesn’t want me to know that she’s mourning him.

I knock on her bedroom door and wait. When I get no answer, I knock again. Worried that she might be in need, or maybe she’s just sleeping, I turn the knob to her door.

I step inside, and when I don’t see her in her bed, I call out to her.

“Riley!”

She doesn’t answer, but I hear water in the bathroom. She must be showering.

“Riley!” I yell.

I get no answer.

My heart thuds loudly in my chest, and I pray that she’s okay. She told me this morning that she’s been feeling faint lately.

I see that the bathroom door is partially open.

I peek my head in and see that she’s showering and she’s okay.

I turn to walk back out of the bathroom, and as I head past the bathtub and the linen closet, I see something odd.

On a towel shelf next to the door, I see what appears to be a bodysuit, but it looks misshapen.

I walk toward it, unable to ignore the feeling that pushes me forward. Warning bells are ringing in my head, and I have no idea what they’re trying to tell me, but I can’t turn away.

I reach out to grab the bodysuit and find that it’s silicone. It’s a fucking fake pregnant belly bump!

Anger fills me, but not stupidity. I leave it lying where it is and slip out of the bathroom while my sister continues showering.

I should go to Zaire, but he has his hands full with everything else. Besides, it’s my sister, I can handle her little ass.

What the hell was she thinking? Lying about a pregnancy? What does she even have to gain by lying about that? I mean, Kenny’s dead, and he’s not here.

Unless . . . I’m the only one who her pregnancy would impact. But if she just needed to come and stay with me for a while, then why not just say that? It can’t be that simple.

There’s some shit in the game.

I take a seat in the chair beside her bed and wait patiently for five minutes before she comes out of the shower, singing. She has a towel wrapped around her head and one around her body. She’s holding a couple of body moisturizers in one hand, and the body suit is tucked underneath her arm.

“Bay? What are you doing in here?” she asks.

“I think that I should be the one asking the questions.”

“Am I missing something?” she asks, staring at me in confusion.

“You are. Like a baby?” I say, gesturing at her flat stomach.

Her eyes widen, and she looks down, recognizing her mistake.

“Sis, I—”

“Uh-uh. No excuses! What the hell, Riley?”

“It’s not what you think,” she pouts, pulling panties and a bra from a drawer and slipping the panties on.

“What I think is that you lied about your pregnancy. What I think is that you aren’t pregnant. Both of those variables are true. Clearly!” I point in exasperation at her, the bodysuit lying discarded by her feet.

Riley has the decency to hold her head down in shame, but when she looks up again, there’s a fiery passion burning in her eyes.

“You always sit in the seat of judgment, don’t you?” she accuses, pulling her bra on and fastening it.

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, Riley. I don’t judge you.”

“Yes, you do! You’ve always been Daddy’s favorite. You don’t understand what it feels like to be the one who always comes up short. I was never good enough.”

“That’s not true. Daddy doesn’t have favorites, and you’ve always been his baby,” I declare as she grabs a T-shirt and pulls it on over her head.

“You wouldn’t know that, now, would you? You’ve never been compared to me, Quin, or Chase!”

“I’m not doing that with you right now. That has nothing to do with this fake pregnancy.”

“It’s got everything to do with it!” she shouts.

“How, Riley? How?” I demand.

“You have a large, beautiful home, a man who worships the ground you walk on, three amazing kids who adore you, and a successful business. You’re not struggling the way I am with finding someone who loves you unconditionally!”

“What the hell does that have to do with pretending you’re pregnant?” I ask as she dresses in a pair of navy blue leggings.

The look that my sister turns on me makes me wonder if I ever knew this heifer at all!

“It was the only way to get what I needed!”

“Which is what?” I ask, standing as she starts walking toward me.

“Information, Bayleigh. Information is priceless,” she hisses as her face contorts into a caricature of herself.

“What are you talking about?” I ask.

“Zaire. He rules the city. There is too much money running through here for him not to be willing to share with everyone else!”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about finally finding a man who loves me, wants me, and who I have something to offer. My man and I are gonna be on top of the world. We’re going to dominate this fucking city and take control from Zaire’s hands.”

Fury runs through me, and I step closer to her.

“Riley, if you cross Zaire up, you know he will dead your ass!”

“No, he won’t. We just want a piece of the pie,” she states solemnly.

“Who the hell are you working with?” I ask.

“That doesn’t even matter.”

“What the hell did Zaire or I ever do to you for you to want to betray us, Riley?”

“You took my kid! You took Zayn!”

“Riley, you were sixteen-years old, suffering a mental breakdown, and wanted to abort the kid when you were six months along! Your crazy ass tried to do that shit too!”

“I’m not crazy! You had no right to take my kid!” she cries.

“I did what was best for you and Zayn!”

“You did what was best for you!” Riley screams, grabbing her keys and purse.

“Where the hell are you going?” I ask, stalking behind her.

“Away from you! Some place where I can get some peace!” she shouts.

I watch her run down the stairs, and I stand at the top of the second-floor landing, listening until the door slams closed.

When Riley calmed down in the hospital from her mental breakdown, she insisted she did not want the baby. When I suggested that Zaire and I could adopt him, she was ecstatic. Our entire family was overjoyed with that suggestion, especially my parents.

Not once had a word ever come up about it being a problem in all these years. We told Zayn the truth when he was nine. He took it all in stride, still loving Riley, and still loving us.