“Congratulations, sis. This place is beautiful.”
Justice hugged me next. “You need anything, you let us know.”
“I appreciate y’all. For real.”
Then the Kings started arriving.
Creed came first, his sharp eyes scanning the space the way they always did—assessing, cataloging, missing nothing. Beside him was Sloane, his wife. Beautiful. Warm. The woman who had been working with Yusef for the past five months.
“Zainab.” Sloane pulled me into a hug. “Congratulations. This is incredible.”
“Thank you.” I held her a little tighter than necessary. “And thank you for… for everything you’ve done for Yusef. I don’t know where he’d be without you.”
She pulled back, her eyes kind. “He’s making progress. Slowly, but it’s there. The nightmares have stopped. That’s huge.”
“He still won’t talk.”
“He will. When he’s ready.” She squeezed my hands. “Trauma doesn’t heal on our timeline. It heals on its own. Our job is just to be there when it does.”
I nodded, blinking back tears. “Thank you. Really.”
Cannon and Queen arrived next. Cannon—Creed’s brother, who looked so much like him.
“Damn, girl. You did that.”
“I did.” I couldn’t help but smile back. “Tell Queen I said thank you for the advice on the business plan. Her notes were everything.”
Queen appeared beside him, elegant as always. “You did the hard work. I just pointed you in the right direction.”
Riot and Allure came in behind them. Riot with his easy smile and Allure with her arm linked through his, looking like they’d stepped off a magazine cover.
“This place is gorgeous,” Allure said, looking around. “And something smells amazing.”
“Zinnamon rolls. Fresh out the oven.”
“I need twelve. Immediately.”
I laughed. For the first time in months, the sound felt natural. Easy.
Then I saw Serenity push through the crowd and my jaw dropped.
Because next to her was Mehar.
But not the Mehar I’d known five months ago. Not the broken, bruised woman who’d shown up at Prime’s door with nothing but the clothes on her back.
This Mehar was a BADDIE.Her face was made-up perfection. Flawless foundation, contoured cheekbones, lips glossy and full. False lashes that made her eyes look huge and dramatic. Her hair was done, fresh buss down, long and flowing down her back. And her outfit…
Tight jeans that hugged every curve. A cropped top that showed off her flat stomach. Heels that made her legs look endless. Gold jewelry dripping from her neck, her wrists, her ears. A new tattoo of a rose around her wrist.
Heads turned as she walked through the room. Men and women alike.
“Holy shit,” I breathed.
Serenity grinned. “I know, right? My little project.”
Mehar reached me and pulled me into a hug, careful of the belly, just like everyone else.
“I’m so proud of you,” she said. “Zahara would be proud too.”
