Page 152 of Rah

I leaned back in my chair, thinking it over. Truth was, I had been stressing about who was gonna manage all of this. The streams were going crazy, my inbox was full of offers I didn’t trust, and every other day somebody was trying to ‘help’ for a cut. I needed someone I trusted who knew how to handle it without selling me out.

Eli must’ve read my face, because he smirked and said, “Come on, man. You know I got you. I know the label game inside and out. I know what traps to avoid. Let me make sureyou get everything that’s yours, not what they decide you deserve.”

I exhaled, trying to slow my heart rate. “You serious about this?”

“As serious as I’ve ever been. I didn’t leave L.A. for vacation. I left because I believe in you. You’re not just another artist to me; you’re family now. And I’m not about to let the industry eat you alive. Let’s go independent and get this money. You don’t need a label. I’ve seen how they move. Labels don’t build artists anymore; they build investments. The second your numbers dip or your sound shifts, they shelve you. I watched it happen too many times. You already doing what they’d pay a team of people to fake. You got the music, look, story, and numbers organically. Labels don’t like that. They wanna own that. They’ll give you an advance, but that’s just a loan with strings attached. They’ll own your masters and publishing, and they’ll make money off you even after you burn out. You don’t need validation from a label when you already got leverage. Right now, you’re hot. ‘Songs of Moses’ is charting without them. When a label calls, you don’t go begging; you set the terms. You walk in owning your masters, brand, and vision.” He leaned in closer, tapping his finger on the desk to make his point. “You control the narrative. You drop when you want. You decide who gets paid and how much. You got the internet, digital distribution, fan engagement, and all that is power now. Labels used to hold the keys. The game’s changed. You just gotta play it smart.”

I nodded slowly, letting it sink in. I’d been thinking about that ever since the streams started climbing. A few people had already hit me with “distribution deals” that looked more like traps than opportunities.

Ill One turned his chair halfway around, smirking. “He got a point.”

I looked between them and cracked a grin. “You really quit Interscope?”

“Walked out Friday,” he said proudly. “Told ’em I found something better to bet on.”

I sat there speechless that this was my life now, but Eli felt the need to continue to convince me. “I’m setting up a social media rollout— interviews, reels, and live sessions. We’re talking grassroots grind, bro. Street-team energy. We’ll build it from the ground up, brick by brick.”

I stopped him by holding a hand up. “You don’t need to convince me, bro. I believe in you because you believe in me. You got a deal.”

He howled while dapping me up, but all I could do was grin while trying to hold back the flood of emotions.

For the first time in my life, I felt like everything was aligning. And now, with Eli riding shotgun, it felt like things were really about to take off.

TWO WEEKS LATER…

36

AALIYAH

The air off the lake had a soft chill, but the sun was warm enough to make it feel like early summer instead of March. Fabe sat a few feet away on the blanket, stretched out in a white tee that hugged his chest and gray sweatpants that hung loose on his hips, laughing as Junior kicked and cooed on my lap.

Watching them did something to me that I couldn’t quite explain. I had wanted this type of easy paced peace with Rah for so long. But he was always moving, always chasing something. Now I realize he wasn’t just busy; he was busy living two separate lives.

But Fabe’s love and patience wasn’t performative. His love didn’t demand anything from me. It just existed. It was stable, safe, and real.

Foreplay started way before the bedroom with Fabe. It was in the way he constantly kept his hand on my lower back, or the way he rubbed my thigh absentmindedly while talking to the baby.

Rah’s love had always been loud, while Fabe’s was quiet. He didn’t rush me when I flinched at kindness, and he didn’t take it personal when I needed time to trust it. He just kept showing up until I believed him.

“Look at you, lil’ man,” Fabe murmured, grinning as Rahzan chewed on his pacifier. “Actin’ like you got teeth already. Slow down, champ. You want some real food, don’t you? You tired of that baby food? You ready for some real food? I told your mama it’s time to give you some real shit.”

I chuckled. “You talk to him like he understands what you’re saying.”

“He does,” Fabe shrugged. “He just can’t talk back yet.”

I watched Fabe, realizing there wasn’t a single piece of him that wasn’t proud to be here. He was in this for real, not just playing stepdaddy. He was being Rahzan’s father in every way.

I was sipping my iced coffee, smiling at the two of them, when I saw Priest, Essence, and Elijah.

My stomach dropped, and my hands tightened around the cup.

They were a few yards away, walking toward us. The moment I’d been dreading was really happening.

Solae’s mother had reached out to Fabe last week. She told him she thought it was important for Rahzan to know his siblings and for them to know him. I didn’t know how to feel about that. Part of me wanted to say no, to protect myself from the judgment I expected. But Fabe had insisted that Solae and her parents didn’t see me like the side bitch that had caused so much havoc in their daughter and grandchildren’s lives. He said her mother had even told him that Solae agreed to this meeting.

Still, my nerves were a mess. Rah never told me I was theside chick, but clearly, I was, and I had been the reason their family was torn apart.

Solae’s mother said she couldn’t come because she didn’t have the energy that day, so Priest offered to bring the kids. And from what Fabe told me, Priest had been solid since Solae turned herself in. He had been helping her parents, showing up for them and the kids.