“And you’re not sleeping. I can feel it in your face.”
Of course she could.
She pulled me down into a hug, and despite everything—the pain, the embarrassment, the laughter still echoing around us—I melted into it.
“I missed you, baby,” she whispered.
“I missed you too, Grandma.”
She patted my back, then pushed me away. “Now go get some food. And don’t think I’m done with you. We’re gonna talk.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I limped toward the food table, everyone still snickering.
Quest handed me a plate, grinning. “Got your ass whooped by a blind woman. That’s a new low, even for you.”
“Shut up.”
“She got you in the dick, too. That was legendary.”
“I hate all of y’all.”
But I was smiling. Because for the first time in months, I felt like I was home.
Dinner went better than I expected. The food was incredible, as always. Grandma Rita held court at the head of the table, telling stories about the old days when she and my father were building Banks Reserve from nothing. Stories I’d heard a thousand times but never got tired of.
Storie sat on my lap, stealing bites of my mac and cheese. Kiki and Tione had temporarily stopped arguing to debate whether Beyoncé or Rihanna had better music. Julius was trying to convince Serenity to let him buy her a new car. Ivy was on her phone, probably texting some new man she was seeing.
For a moment, everything felt normal. Like I wasn’t a killer. Like I wasn’t carrying the weight of Rashid’s expectations and Zahara’s secrets and Meech’s bullshit.
For a moment, I was just Prime. Just Prentice. Just Grandma’s boy.
Then Quest cleared his throat. “Yo, Prime. Justice and I need to talk to you about something. Business.”
The moment shattered.
“Now?” I asked.
“Yeah. Won’t take long.” Quest was already standing, exchanging a look with Justice that told me this was serious.
I kissed Dream’s head and set her down next to her big sis. “Y’all finish eating. We’ll be right back.”
The women barely noticed us leaving, too deep in their own conversations. Julius gave me a knowing look—he’d been around long enough to know when the brothers needed to handle business.
We headed to the study, a room that still smelled like my father’s cigars even though he’d been dead for over twenty years. Dark wood paneling, leather chairs, bookshelves lined with first editions. This was where the real decisions got made.
Quest closed the door behind us. Justice took a seat, his expression unreadable.
“What’s up?” I asked, leaning against the desk.
Quest didn’t waste time. “The mayor’s office is holding up our permits.”
My jaw tightened. Of course. “ You mean our mother? For what?”
“Because she’s Vivica but we’re this close to breaking ground.” Quest held up his fingers, barely an inch apart. “Everything’s lined up. Investors, contractors, the whole nine. But we need final approval on a few key permits. Environmental impact, zoning adjustments, some other bureaucratic bullshit.”
“And Vivica’s blocking it.”
