Page 17

SERENITY

" I still don’t see why I need all this," Creed muttered, standing in front of the floor-length mirror, shifting in his stance as the tailor took his measurements with careful precision.

"Because Langston," I said smoothly, crossing my legs. "If you’re gonna be my date to my parents’ anniversary party, you need to look the part. And that means no sweats, no hoodies, and definitely no Jordans."

He gave me a flat look in the mirror. "What’s wrong with my Jordans?"

"Nothing, you know I love a good pair of 1s. But this ain’t that kind of event."

His light brown eyes held mine, but he didn’t argue further as the tailor continued pinning and adjusting the deep black Tom Ford suit that fit him like it was made just for him. Which, after tonight, it would be.

"Ain’t never had a suit like this before," he admitted rolling his shoulders as he glanced down at the sharp lapels, the gold silk tie, the way the fabric hugged every inch of him perfectly.

I bit my lip, my gaze drifting over him.

"Well, now you do."

His eyes met mine again, this time with something else behind them. Something that made heat creep up my neck.

"You didn’t have to do this, SB," he murmured.

I shrugged, leaning back against the bench. "I wanted to. You deserve to step into this world looking like you belong."

"I do belong," he said simply, rolling his sleeves before undoing the top button of the dress shirt.

I smirked tilting my head. "You do. But now, you’ll look the part too."

As the tailor finished up, I stood, adjusting the cuffs of Creed’s blazer before smoothing my hands down the lapels. "You clean up nice, Langston," I murmured.

He smirked. "Word?"

I nodded. "Mhm. And I can’t wait for you to meet my parents. Well… mostly my daddy."

His smirk faded slightly, his expression turning thoughtful. "What about your mama?"

I let out a breath, stepping back. "That’s… complicated."

He gave me a knowing look. "You still ain’t talked to her since Christmas?"

"Nope."

He sighed, shaking his head. "Baby… you gotta fix that."

"No, I don’t."

"Serenity." His voice was firm, patient, but serious.

I crossed my arms, staring him down. "Why I gotta be the one to fix it? Why she can’t come to me?"

"Because you know she won’t," he said simply.

That made my stomach tighten. Because he was right. And that was exactly why I didn’t want to give in first.

"I ain’t saying she right," he continued, searching my face, his voice softer now. "I’m saying she your mama. You only get one. Y’all been like this for too long."

I exhaled sharply, turning away from him. "I just… I don’t wanna be the bigger person this time, Creed. I’m tired of being the one trying to make things right when she’s the one who keeps hurting me."

He was quiet for a second before stepping behind me, his hands gently resting on my waist. His lips got close to my ear, sending a chill down my spine. "I get that, but you gon’ regret it if you don’t at least try."

I swallowed, staring at our reflection in the mirror.

We looked… good together. Like we belonged in this space. Like we belonged to each other. But that didn’t change the fact that I wasn’t ready to let Sienna back in.

Not yet.

"We’ll see," I said, my voice softer than before.

Creed didn’t push. He just nodded, placing a kiss on my neck, then squeezing my waist before stepping back.

"Come on," he said. "Let’s get some food before you drop me back off in Jersey."

I let out a small laugh, rolling my eyes as I grabbed my coat.

"Fine. But I’m picking the spot."

"I figured." His smirk was back, and just like that, the tension faded. For now.

The Rainbow ballroom at Rockefeller Center was draped in luxury—gold chandeliers casting a soft glow over the black and gold décor, champagne flowing like water, the live jazz band playing smooth melodies in the background.

It was elegant, extravagant, but that was to be expected.

My parents didn’t do anything small. Especially not their wedding anniversary.

From the second I walked in, dressed in a gold sequined gown with the back exposed that hugged my curves just right, curls tumbling down my back, I felt eyes on me. But only one pair of eyes mattered.

Creed.

He had been on me all night—glued to my side like he belonged there, like he had no plans of leaving. And I wasn’t mad at it. Dressed in a black tailored suit with a gold silk tie to match my dress, he looked so good it was almost unfair.

"You staring, SB," he murmured against my ear, his deep voice sending chills down my spine as his fingers traced the small of my back.

I smirked, tilting my head up to meet his gaze. "You love the attention, don’t you?"

"Nah," he murmured, his eyes low, full of something unreadable. "Just love that it’s coming from you." I felt my breath hitch, my pulse quicken. This thing between us was electric.

Since Christmas, since he told me he had ended things with Gianna, we had been dancing around whatever this was—touching, kissing, spending every second together, but never fully crossing the line.

Not yet.

But the way he was looking at me now? I had a feeling that was about to change.

As the night went along, I was having a good time.

Besides spending so much time on the dance floor with Arielle, Brodie, Creed, Sevyn and his date, drinks were flowing and as long as my parents, grandparents, aunt and uncle didn’t catch us, Arielle and I had a drink in our hands courtesy of our 21 year old boyfriends and Sevyn.

Once my dad was free of people surrounding him, I grabbed Creed’s hand pulling him along to get this done, rip off the band-aid.

"Daddy, I want you to meet someone."

I stood next to Creed, my hand lightly resting on his arm as we approached my father. Lenox Bradshaw, the man who helped build an empire; the man whose approval meant everything to me.

Dressed in an all-black tux with gold cufflinks gleaming under the dim ballroom lighting, he exuded the kind of power that made people straighten up in his presence.

But Creed? Creed didn’t waver.

He had the same strong stance, the same quiet confidence that made it clear he wasn’t intimidated—even if he respected the man standing in front of him.

My daddy turned from his conversation, his sharp brown eyes landing on me first before flickering over to Creed.

“Daddy, this is Creed, Creed this is my daddy Lenox.” I smiled between them, hoping and praying it would go well. My dad had given Iman a hard time damn near every time he saw him, for the better half of a year, before he even considered giving him a chance.

"So, you’re the kid my daughter hasn’t stopped talking about," he mused, his deep voice calm but full of meaning.

“Daddy, please…” I felt heat rush to my face, but Creed didn’t even blink.

"Guess so," Creed admitted, his voice steady. My eyes flicked to him, a smirk playing on the corners of my lips.

My father smirked slightly, his gaze flickering between us before finally reaching for Creed’s hand. "Creed, was it?"

"Yes, sir. Creed Langston." Creed shook his hand, firm grip, steady eye contact.

My father nodded once, as if taking mental notes.

"She also told me you’ve got a best friend in a bad situation," he added.

"Yes, sir," Creed said, his tone more serious. "And I wanted to thank you, Mr. Bradshaw. For real. Nas means a lot to me, and you didn’t have to do that."

My father watched him for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, he nodded. "You seem like a good kid."

Relief flickered through me.

Until—

"I just hope you have the discipline to stay focused," Sienna’s voice cut through the conversation like the stem of a rose being snapped in half. She slid next to my dad, sliding her hand into his.

Here we go.

I felt Creed stiffen slightly beside me, but his expression stayed smooth, unreadable. I turned, my eyes locking onto Sienna Bradshaw—the woman who could steal a room’s attention without saying a word.

Dressed in a sleek, fitted gold gown, her hair slicked back into a ponytail.

My mother was effortlessly beautiful, in truth, even though it annoyed me, it was always a huge compliment when people brought up how much she and I looked alike.

She looked every bit the star she always had been.

And yet, her eyes were sharp, full of judgment as they landed on Creed.

"I assume you play a sport?" she asked, her tone casual but pointed.

Creed nodded, unbothered. "Yes ma’am. I play basketball, at Rutgers."

She hummed, sipping her champagne. "And that’s all?"

"Excuse me?" Creed’s eyebrow raised in confusion.

"Is that all you do?" she pressed, tilting her head. "What happens when the basketball stops bouncing? What’s the backup plan?"

I clenched my jaw. She had the audacity to question someone else’s dreams when she was once in the same position, standing outside of record labels singing, trying to get put on.

"Mommy—"

"It’s a valid question, Serenity," she interrupted smoothly, her eyes never leaving Creed. "Because you and I both know most young men think they’re invincible until reality slaps them in the face."

I exhaled sharply, but Creed? He didn’t even blink.

"I got plans," he said simply, his voice calm. "Basketball ain’t forever. I know that. That’s why I’ve been working to build relationships, making sure I have options beyond the game."

Sienna’s lips pressed into a thin line, like she was trying to find a crack in his armor.

"So, you’re saying if my daughter is with you, she’ll be secure?"

"I’m saying," Creed said smoothly, meeting her gaze head-on, "that I wouldn’t be here wasting my time if I wasn’t serious about her. But let’s be honest, Serenity doesn’t need me to be secure she has her own talent, her own dreams that I’m sure will make her successful."

The tension stretched between them, heavy, thick, but Creed didn’t fold. I bit the inside of my cheek, waiting for my mother’s response. She took another slow sip of her drink, then finally turned to me.