I took one last look around the penthouse. Everything locked. Security system armed. Cameras active on my phone so I could check in whenever I wanted.
He’d be fine. He had to be fine.
“Let’s go,” Zainab said, taking my hand. “Before you find another reason to hover.”
The Grand MonarchHotel was lit up like a Christmas tree when we pulled up.
Valets in crisp uniforms. Red carpet leading to the entrance. Photographers snapping pictures of DC’s elite as they floated through the doors in their tuxedos and gowns. This was the kind of event where deals got made over champagne, where a handshake was worth more than a contract, where the real business happened in the spaces between the speeches and the toasts.
And tonight, Banks Reserve was the star of the show.
The ballroom was massive—crystal chandeliers, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city, tables draped in white linen with centerpieces that probably cost more than most people’s rent. A jazz quartet played in the corner, smooth and unobtrusive. Waiters circulated with trays of champagne and hors d’oeuvres.
And right there, front and center on the dessert table, were Zainab’s cinnamon rolls.
“They look perfect,” she breathed, squeezing my hand.
“Course they do. You made them.”
The display was elegant—tiered platters, each roll glazed and golden, the Sweet Zin logo tastefully displayed on small cards. Professional. Polished. A far cry from the farmers market tables where she’d started.
She’d come a long way. And this was just the beginning.
“Prime!”
I turned to see Quest approaching with Justice flanking him. My brothers cleaned up well—Quest in a classic black tux that screamed CEO, Justice in navy blue with a gold pocket squarethat matched his watch. Behind them, I could see Tionne and KiKi making their way over, both stunning in complementary dresses that somehow didn’t clash despite being completely different styles.
“About time you showed up,” Quest said, pulling me into a quick hug before turning to Zainab. “And this must be the famous Zainab. We’ve heard a lot about you.”
“All good things, I hope.” Zainab’s smile was warm but I could feel the slight tension in her hand. Meeting the family was a big deal.
“Very good things.” Justice stepped forward, charming as always. “It’s nice to finally put a face to the name. Prime’s been keeping you hidden.”
“For good reason,” I said. “Y’all would scare her off.”
“Us? Never.” Quest grinned, then gestured to the women joining us. “Zahara, this is Camille and Lyric.”
The introductions flowed easy. Camille was all grace and warmth, immediately complimenting Zainab’s dress. Lyric was more reserved but genuinely friendly, asking about Sweet Zin and how the catering business was going. Within minutes, the three of them were chatting like old friends.
“She fits,” Justice said quietly, watching the women talk.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “She does.”
More family filtered over. Cannon appeared first.
”Prime.” He pulled me into a hug. “Good to see you, brother.”
“You too, Cannon. Business good?”
“Can’t complain. Hotels are booked solid through the new year. The our BnB side is exploding.” He glanced at Zainab, who was still deep in conversation with the other women. “She’s beautiful. You finally found somebody who can tolerate your ass?”
“Something like that. Where’s Queen?” I asked.
“I’m right here!” She appeared giving me a hug.
“It’s good to see you again.”
“You too, sis. We gotta all get dinner while you’re in town.”
