Page 11

RIOT

The skyline always looked best from up here—black velvet sky stretched tight over Harlem, buildings sharp as diamonds under the streetlights.

My penthouse was dark but warm, wrapped in leather, marble, and shadows.

I liked it that way. No unnecessary lights.

Just the glow of the city outside and the soft hum of jazz playing low through the ceiling speakers.

We were gathered around the terrace bar—me, Creed, Rollo, and Abra—passing a bottle of Yamazaki and thick cigars like we had no worries in the world.

Rollo had just sparked up, leaning back in one of my woven patio chairs, while Abra perched on the edge of the fire-pit, legs crossed, her dark curls glinting in the amber light.

Creed nursed his drink like always—controlled, measured, always the calm in the storm.

I liked these nights. Moments where we could just breathe, without someone needing protection, without shipments to intercept or bodies to clean up. Just family. Just flame and smoke and shit talk.

“You know,” Creed started, eyes sliding toward me as he leaned against the railing, “wedding’s getting close.”

“Don’t remind me,” I muttered, tipping my glass back. “Y’all been dragging me to tux fittings like I’m the one getting married.”

He grinned. “You got a date yet?”

The room fell quiet.

Then all at once—laughter.

Rollo let out a snort that nearly sent smoke up his nose. Abra leaned back and let out a full-belly laugh. Even Creed chuckled, shaking his head like he already knew the answer.

“Yeah, okay,” I said, smirking. “Y’all got jokes.”

“We know that seat next to you is gon’ be empty,” Rollo said, tapping ash into a crystal tray. “Harlem’s finest bachelor.”

Abra raised her glass. “The man, the myth, the community dick.”

I shot her a look. “Watch it.”

She winked.

“My dick ain’t for the community. Just the baddies I choose.”

Creed stayed quiet, watching me the way only a big brother could. Like he was trying to see through the armor I wore like skin.

Rollo shook his head. “All jokes aside, you need to find a good one, man. Like Creed did. Sloane leveled this man up. Gave him something solid. Hell, she even made him softer. You just gotta find your good woman.”

I scoffed. “Good women are like diamonds in a haystack. And I ain’t got time to bleed my hands searching for one.”

Creed raised an eyebrow. “You don’t believe they exist?”

I leaned back in my chair, let the smoke roll from my mouth slow. “I believe in them. I just don’t think they want a man like me.”

There was silence again—but it was different this time. Heavier. I didn’t even mean to say that part out loud. Nobody knew the shit I carried with me.

It’s not that I didn’t want what Creed had. A woman who made you feel like the world could fall apart and you’d still be alright. A woman who saw you, past the blood and the scars and the noise. I wanted that more than I admitted.

But I couldn’t have it.

Not after what I’d done.

Not with the ghosts I carried.

I swirled the liquor in my glass and let the ice clink. “Besides,” I added, “y’all want me to show up with some girl who looks badder than the bride?” I laughed.

“Impossible,” Creed barked seriously.'

“Chill, nigga. I’m just joking. And I’ll be at the wedding solo.”

The truth was, I didn’t trust easy. Not with women. Not with love. Not after what happened with the last one. The only one.

Malia.

She’d been everything once. And then she’d become a lesson.

A bloody, permanent one.

Now? Now I kept women where they belonged—in my bed, on their knees, and out of my business. They didn’t get keys. They didn’t meet Mama. They didn’t see the real me.

Only Creed and Tessa knew him.

And even they only saw the edited version.

Rollo refilled our glasses and passed the bottle. “Well, you might change your tune tonight. Irina’s party? Full of bad bitches. The city’s finest. Maybe you’ll find a diamond.”

I grinned and knocked my glass against his. “Or maybe I’ll find a good distraction.”

But deep down?

There was only one woman who’d been haunting me lately.

And she wasn’t showing up to no party.

She was locked away like a secret.

A secret I couldn’t stop thinking about.