He smirked, running a hand over his beard before sitting on the edge of the bed, close enough that I could smell the clean, masculine scent of his body wash. He turned slightly, his dark eyes meeting mine, studying me. "Aight," he murmured. "Then what do I gotta do to get you in my bed?" I hesitated, caught off guard. Because, honestly? I hadn't expected him to ask. Hadn't expected him to care. I swallowed, shifting slightly. "It'll be nice to actually get to know something about you." His brow lifted slightly, but he didn't look surprised. He just watched me, unreadable, before nodding once. "Aight. Come on."
I frowned. "Come on where?" He stood up, nodding toward the door. "Downstairs. I'ma pour us a drink. You wanna know about me? Let's talk."
I blinked. "...Right now?" He smirked. "You said you wanted to get to know me, right? Come on. Don't get scared now." I let out a small laugh, shaking my head before sliding out of bed. Because as much as I wanted to act like I wasn't intrigued...I was.
I followed him downstairs. Juste walked into the kitchen, pouring drinks. I made my way to the living room, settling onto the couch, tucking my feet under me, pulling the soft blanket over my legs. I didn't know what I was expecting, but when he came back, handing me a drink in a heavy crystal glass, my brows lifted slightly. I sniffed it first, catching the hint of Hennessy, amaretto, and a splash of something sweet.
I sipped slowly as he sank down next to me, his own glass of Hennessy in hand, resting on his knee. His arm stretched across the back of the couch, his body close but not overwhelming, his eyes already locked on mine before he even spoke. "What is it that you wanna know?" His voice was smooth, low, but there was a weight behind it. Like he already knew I wasn't here for surface-level shit.
I took another sip, then tilted my head. "What do you wanna tell?" His lips curled into a smirk, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "That's a dangerous question." I shrugged. "I think I can handle it."
He let out a slow breath, tapping his finger against his glass. "I consider myself the lover nigga wit control if you can't tell." He laughed "You ever been in love?" The question caught me off guard. I blinked, licking my lips before setting my drink on the table. "Love ? forever ago maybe. I don't know if it was that or just... a bad habit." Juste nodded and looked off like he was thinking about something .I exhaled. "What about you, lover nigga ?" He chuckled before His jaw flexed. Then, for the first time since we sat down, he looked away, eyes drifting toward the glass in his hand. "Yeah." I didn't say anything, just waited. And eventually, he kept talking.
"Her name was Troi." He rolled the glass in his palm. "Met her when I was nineteen. Thought she was it. Thought we was solid. Even thought I was gon' marry her one day." I stayed quiet, listening. "She got pregnant. Told me it was mine. And I believed her." His voice didn't change, but there was an edge to it now, something dark sitting beneath the words.
I swallowed looking confused. "it wasn't?" He let out a humorless chuckle. "Nah. It wasn't. Found out when she was eight months along. Shit got weird . Another nigga hit my line about the bitch , Making me count back an realize that I spent a month in Houston at the time she got pregnant . Whole time, bitch had me lookin' like I was a damn fool."
I felt my stomach tighten. he was just calling the girl out her name. “Juste..." His expression was unreadable. "You know what's crazy? I wasn't even gon' do shit. Wasn't gon' snap. I was just gon' leave her ass alone, let her live her little life with her new family. But she kept lying. Kept tryna gaslight me, telling me it wasn't true when I had the fuckin' proof. Had her nigga calling my phone, talkin' reckless like I was the one in the wrong." I took a slow breath, not liking where this was going. "So what happened ?"
He looked at me now, dead in my eyes, and for the first time, I saw it. That possessive, dangerous, unhinged part of him sitting right beneath the surface. "I shot up her car. Shot her mama house up. Shot her doctor’s office up . Whole lotta shit went on"What the fuck ?My entire body went still. My fingers tightened around my glass, but I didn't move. Didn't react. I just listened.
He smirked at my silence, shaking his head slightly. "Relax, Chiana. Nobody ain't die. But I wanted them to feel me. Wanted them to know I ain't the nigga to play with."
I let out a breath, steadying myself. "Where is she now?" He took another slow sip of Hennessy before answering. "Atlanta. Far as I know."
I sat back, exhaling through my nose. "So you just... let her go?" He chuckled again, dark, deep. "After I put fifty holes in her car? Hell yeah, I let her go." I stared at him. And he stared right back. No hesitation. No regret. No second-guessing what he did. Just complete, calm acceptance of who he was.
I swallowed, looking away for a second before forcing myself to ask, "Would you do it again?" His smirk was slow. "You tell me. If I found out you was playin' with me like that, what you think I'd do?" I shivered. Not out of fear. But because the way he said it, Like he meant every damn word. I believed him.
And maybe I should've been scared. Maybe I should've sat up, put some distance between us, reminded myself that this man was dangerous, that he'd shot up a whole damn car with his ex and her real baby daddy inside. But I didn't move.
I just leaned my head back against the couch, taking it all in, letting his words sit in the space between us, settle into the atmosphere like smoke curling in the air. Then, Juste exhaled through his nose, shaking his head slightly. "Enough of that, though."
Before I could react, his fingers lifted my chin, making me look at him, his dark, steady gaze locked on mine. "I bet I can tell you everything about you." I blinked, brows lifting slightly. "That so?"
A slow, knowing smirk stretched across his lips. "Yeah. That's so." I tilted my head, intrigued now. "Aight then. Impress me." He leaned in slightly, voice dropping low, that deep, velvety tone wrapping around me like silk. "I know you lost your parents a while back. That they never got to see the life you built for yourself. And I know that shit still eats at you, even when you pretend it don't." My stomach tightened. He rubbed his thumb across my bottom lip, slow, deliberate. "I know that outside of Amina, you don't talk to nobody on a personal level. You keep your circle small, keep people at a distance, 'cause getting too close means giving them the chance to hurt you. And you ain't doing that shit again." My throat dried.
He kept going. "I know that strong front you put up? That shit ain't always real. That nigga Tonio? He dogged you out for that short period of time that you let him, made you second-guess yourself, made you question your worth. But you bounced back. You always do." His jaw flexed, like the thought of Antonio pissed him off. Like it was personal. Like it wasn't just something he knew, but something he felt. I swallowed, my fingers gripping the blanket in my lap, my pulse picking up speed.
But Juste wasn't done. "I know you're carefree when you drunk. That's when the real you comes out. You let go, you laugh louder, you dance even when there ain't no music playing. And I know that every damn day, at some point, you sneak off and dig into them gummies like it's part of your routine." I couldn't help it. A laugh bubbled up out of me, cutting through the heaviness, the weight of his words. and when it did, I felt my eyes burn slightly, felt the threat of tears creeping up on me before I could stop them.
Because he wasn't just throwing out shit he had heard from somebody else. He wasn't just repeating things that were obvious. This man... Had studied me. Watched me. Understood me in ways that people I had known my whole life never even attempted to try. I blinked quickly, looking away, trying to suppress the emotion building in my chest.
That's when his fingers gripped my chin, turning my face back toward him, forcing me to look at him again. His voice was quiet, but heavy. "I might've forgot to mention I made it my business to learn everything about you... a long time before I approached you about a job." I swallowed, my throat thick.
"Shit, sometimes I have to ask myself..." He tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing. "Was it really even about the job?" I let out a shaky breath, my heart pounding. Because in that moment I knew. This was bigger than the business. This was bigger than money laundering, bigger than contracts and obligations. Juste knew me. Knew Chiana. And all he had done was watch. He didn't even realize it... But in this moment, with nothing but his words and his undivided attention, he had just melted me down and made me clay in his hands.
JUSTE
Four Months Later
Shit had been smooth sailing. Business was good—real good. The money was flowing, the books were clean, and the nightclub we were opening was set to launch in two weeks. But the biggest shift? Chiana.
She had officially moved out of her place—on her own damn will—into mine. She had roots here now. And I ain't have to force her to plant them. She still made time for herself, got her independence back, spending some days at the office and meeting up with Amina for brunch whenever she was in town.
From the outside looking in It was almost like I had never kidnapped her at all. Like we had met, dated, built a relationship like regular-ass people. I laughed to myself at the thought as I finished brushing my teeth. I stepped out of the bathroom, stretching my arms, my muscles relaxing as I made my way downstairs. The second I turned the corner, the scent of bacon and butter hit me, drifting through the house. And then I saw her. Standing at the stove, her back to me, her short, fitted leopard-print sleeping dress hugging every curve, those small braids cascading down her back. She had been cooking a lot more lately, taking over the kitchen.
Because seeing her like this, A woman like her, in my house, in my space, making it feel like a home, Yeah. I could get used to this shit. I had gotten used to this shit . I leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, just watching her for a second. She hummed softly to herself as she flipped the bacon, swaying a little on her feet, completely relaxed. Like she belonged here. Like she knew she belonged here. A slow smile pulled at my lips. "I like this shit."
