The season was changing, temperatures dropping just enough to remind me why I hated this time of year. The crisp air and falling leaves were pretty, sure, but it meant winter was creeping in, and I wasn't a fan. But despite my dislike for fall, there was one thing keeping my spirits high—my birthday was in two months. Juste kept talking about some mystery trip he was planning, something warm, somewhere far, and as usual, he refused to tell me shit. Typical Juste. Right now, though, I was focused on something just as important—shopping with Nia and Amina for the St. Jean Formal tonight.
This event was serious. Big family reunion energy, but mob ties included. St. Jean's from everywhere flew in. We'd already knocked out nails and toes earlier this morning, fresh sets and white toes, because some things just didn't change. My braids had been redone last week, long and sleek, cascading down my back just how I liked them.
Amina was pretending she wasn't excited about being Pierre's date tonight, but she wasn't fooling nobody. Me and Nia had caught the little smirks she kept hiding every time his name popped up on her phone. "You gon' act like y'all ain't been foolin' around?" I teased, glancing over at Amina as we browsed racks of designer dresses. She rolled her eyes, but the slight blush on her cheeks gave her away. "Pierre is not my man."
"Yet," Nia added, smirking. Amina sucked her teeth. "Y'all are annoying." I laughed, pulling a black gown from the rack and holding it up against my body. "Okay, but you like him though." She shrugged, playing nonchalant. "He funny." Nia let out a loud laugh. "That's how it starts." Amina shot us both a look before grabbing a dress and heading toward the fitting rooms. "Let me get away from y'all messy asses." Me and Nia exchanged a look before bursting out laughing. We weren't stupid. Pierre was wearing her ass down.
I ended up picking out a black velvet gown that hugged my body in all the right places. The deep V-cut was definitely gon make Ms. Evie crawl out of her skin, but Nia and Amina convinced me I needed to pop out. "Juste's gon' lose his shit when he sees you in this," Nia said, zipping me up. I smirked at my reflection, running my hands over the fabric. That was the plan. Amina walked out of the fitting room, twirling in a champagne-colored dress with a high slit. "You think this gon' make Pierre sweat?" she joked. "Girl," Nia threw her hands up. "That nigga already sweating."
We all cracked up laughing, the kind of laughter that felt easy and warm. It hit me then—how much these two meant to me. Amina was on a break from work so she was around a lot me , and we were a relief for Nia from the married mom life . We were sisters, not just friends. And as I stood there, admiring my reflection and thinking about tonight, I realized something else. For the first time in a long time, I wasn't just surviving this life. I was living it. I had a sense of family , something I hadn't had in a longtime .
The afternoon had stretched long, and after a successful shopping trip, we found ourselves at a Mexican restaurant, posted at a booth with tacos, queso, and margaritas in front of us. The sun had dipped lower in the sky, but we still had a little time before we needed to get back and get dressed for the St. Jean Formal.
We'd been laughing, talking shit, and gossiping about Pierre's very obvious crush on Amina when Nia suddenly let out a deep sigh, sinking back into her seat. "Y'all," she said, swirling her straw around in her half-melted frozen margarita. Her voice was quieter than usual, and that alone made me look up. Something was wrong. "My marriage is falling apart." The words landed heavy, slicing through the lighthearted mood we'd had just seconds before.
I put my drink down. "Wait, what?" Amina's head snapped up too, her brows furrowing. "Nia, what the hell you mean? What's going on?" Nia exhaled, staring blankly at the table, her fingers absently tracing the rim of her glass. "I know Jules' ass is cheating," she said flatly. The way she said it—so resigned, like she'd already grieved it, already accepted it—that shit made my chest tighten. "I fucked around and had all these kids, and this shit is about to crumble." Silence fell over the table, the restaurant noise blurring into the background.
I stared at her, my mind racing. Nia wasn't the type to just assume shit—if she said she knew, then she knew. Amina finally broke the silence, leaning forward, her voice low but firm. "Okay. Let's back up. What makes you so sure, Nia?" Nia gave a hollow chuckle, shaking her head. "A woman always knows." I bit my lip, watching her, waiting for more.
"He's different," she said after a pause, rubbing her forehead. "Short with me. Less patient with the kids. Always got some damn 'business' to handle late at night. And I'm not stupid. I see the way he keeps his phone glued to him, the way he steps outside to take calls." She lifted her head, looking between me and Amina. "Y'all know I never wanted to be nobody's dumb ass wife. I grew up watching my mama let my daddy cheat like it was part of the marriage contract. I told myself I wouldn't ever go out like that." She exhaled deeply, her fingers clenching around her margarita glass. "And yet, here I am." Amina sucked her teeth, shaking her head. "Man, fuck that. You need proof, Nia. Something solid."
"Right," I chimed in. "Because if you bring this to Jules without receipts, he's just gon' gaslight the hell out of you." Nia let out a dry laugh. "You act like I ain't already thought of that. Trust me, I've been looking. But these niggas smart. Jules especially. He ain't leaving no obvious trail." Amina sighed, tapping her long nails against her glass. "Shit."
I reached across the table, placing my hand on hers. "Nia, listen to me. Whatever happens, you not in this alone. You hear me?" Amina nodded, reaching over to squeeze Nia's other hand. "For real. We got you." For the first time since she dropped the bomb, Nia's eyes softened, her shoulders relaxing just a little. "I appreciate y'all," she murmured. "For real." We sat there for a moment, just letting her words settle. Then Amina exhaled dramatically, snatching up her margarita and taking a big sip. "But let's also keep it real—if we gotta slide, we sliding," she said, raising her eyebrow.
I smirked. "You already know. Ain't nobody bout to play with you" Nia finally let out a small, genuine laugh, shaking her head. "I swear, y'all some damn fools." Amina shrugged. "Nah. We just love you." And just like that, the mood shifted again—not completely back to normal, but lighter, easier. Because no matter what came next, Nia wasn't standing alone. She had us.
_
I stood in front of the mirror, my hands resting lightly on the vanity as Juste reached around me, clipping the diamond necklace around my neck. His touch was slow, deliberate, his fingers lingering longer than necessary as he locked the clasp. I admired the way the diamonds caught the light, the way they laid against my skin, but what really had my attention was Juste behind me. The man was fine as hell, and tonight, he had me matching his fly effortlessly. His fresh-cut waves were dipped, the black velvet suit he had on fit him too damn good, and his YSL loafers matched my black, curve-hugging gown and heels perfectly.
I met his gaze in the mirror, his dark eyes eating me up like he was thinking about skipping the damn formal altogether. And then I felt it—the bulge in his slacks pressing up against my ass. A smirk curved my lips as he leaned in, his mouth close to my ear. "We got a lil time," he murmured, his voice deep, filled with promise. I swatted him away, stepping out of his reach. "Nope," I said, turning toward the nightstand. "You not about to mess up this dress before we even leave the house." He let out a low chuckle, but I caught the frustrated flex in his jaw. I grabbed the small jar off the nightstand, popped open the lid, and threw two gummies in my mouth, chewing slowly as I locked eyes with him. Then I ate two more.
He watched me, frown deepening. "Aight, aight," he said, stepping toward me, his voice firm. I shrugged, popping two more in my mouth, letting them sit on my tongue before chewing slow just to piss him off. He exhaled, rubbing a hand down his face. "You gotta eat that many, ?" I smirked. "To deal with your mama , yes. Yes I do ." His eyes dropped to my dress, then back to my face. I knew he was debating between lecturing me or fucking me against the dresser. "Chiana," he started, his voice lower now.
I held up a manicured finger, stepping back toward the mirror. "We are not having this conversation. Let's go before you find another reason to be mad." Juste sighed, shaking his head as he grabbed his watch from the nightstand and strapped it on. I caught his reflection in the mirror, the way his eyes never left me, like he was calculating exactly how he was going to deal with me later. I wasn't worried.
By the time we pulled up to the venue, the gummies had started to settle in, and I was feeling good. The event was being held at an exclusive ballroom downtown, and the moment I stepped out of the car, the cool night air kissed my skin, making me more aware of how perfectly my dress fit. Juste came around the car, his hand already out for mine, his grip firm as he led me up the entrance stairs. The man had a way of making sure I moved how he wanted, and tonight was no different.
The venue was packed, filled with men in tailored suits, women draped in luxury, and a sea of deep conversations, laughter, and cigar smoke filling the air. This wasn't just a family reunion—it was business. A waiter passed by, and I grabbed a glass of champagne, sipping as my eyes scanned the room. "Who all gon' be here tonight?" I asked, tilting my head toward Juste. He kept his hand on the small of my back, his grip possessive. "The whole fuckin' family, plus some outsiders we do business with. So behave." I scoffed. "I always behave." He turned his head slightly, eyeing me with a knowing smirk. "Yeah, aight."
Before I could respond, I spotted Nia and Amina near the bar. Amina was laughing hard as hell, shaking her head while Nia whispered something in her ear. The second Amina caught my eye, she motioned for me to come over, her brows wiggling in excitement. I glanced up at Juste. "I'm going to the bar." He didn't loosen his grip on my back. "I'll walk you." I rolled my eyes, but I didn't argue, knowing there was no point. Juste wasn't about to let me out of his sight for long. As we made our way toward them, I noticed Pierre was already there, beside Amina with his drink in hand, grinning like he had a plan.
Pierre chuckled, taking a slow sip of his drink. "Ain't no finesse, baby. Just facts. And the fact is—me and you? We'd look good as fuck together." Nia and I burst into laughter, while Amina just stared at him, her lips twitching like she was fighting a smile. "Pierre, I will ruin your life." She took another sip of her drink, completely unbothered. Pierre leaned in slightly. "Ruin me, then."
Amina blinked at him, and for the first time, I think he might've actually caught her off guard. "Boy," she said, shaking her head, "move." Juste, who had been standing behind me quiet this whole time, exhaled deeply, clearly already over Pierre's antics. "Pierre," Juste finally spoke, "shut the fuck up." Pierre held up his hands in mock surrender. "Aight, aight. I'll let her breathe—for now." Amina side-eyed him but didn't say anything else, which meant she might actually be considering entertaining his ass.
I turned toward Nia. "You good?" She nodded, smiling, but I could still see the tension in her eyes from earlier. We hadn't had time to talk more about what was really going on with Jules, but I knew her well enough to know that it was eating at her. Jules walked up, his face unreadable, but his body language spoke volumes. The moment Nia saw him, her whole demeanor shifted. She tensed up, her smile dropped, and her fingers gripped the stem of her champagne glass a little tighter. It was subtle, but I caught it. "Nia," he murmured, looking down at her. "Ma and Pops waiting on us at the family table." She nodded stiffly but didn't say much. I wasn't sure if she was holding in her emotions or just didn't want to cause a scene, but either way, shit was off between them. I glanced at Amina, who gave me a look like she peeped it too.
Juste's hand remained on my back as we followed behind Jules toward the massive family table at the center of the ballroom. The St. Jean elders were all there—Evie, Saint, some aunts, uncles, cousins from out of town—and the second Evie locked eyes on me, her face twisted. Here we go. I smirked at her, already knowing she was about to be on bullshit. "Hey, Chiana," she greeted, her tone sweet as syrup but sharp like a damn knife. "You know you could've picked a better dress than this." Juste immediately sighed, and Jules shook his head, but I wasn't about to let her have the last word. I leaned in, giving her a side hug just to be petty. "Hey, Ms. Evie," I said smoothly. "Sound like you hating a lil' bit." She rolled her eyes so hard I thought they'd get stuck. "Don't y'all two start," Juste said, side-hugging his mama, but I could tell he was already over it. Saint chuckled, taking a sip of his whiskey, looking completely unbothered by the chaos surrounding the table.
Then, a presence shifted the energy in the room. A man and a woman walked up to the table. Something about the way Saint's body stiffened slightly told me this wasn't just any family reunion moment. The man looked similar to Saint—same strong build, same sharp facial structure—but there were differences. Less facial hair, a little more polished in appearance, like he spent more time behind a desk than in the streets. He carried himself like he was used to being in charge, yet there was something under the surface, something unreadable. And the woman on his arm, She was damn near breathtaking, with light skin that almost looked porcelain under the dim lighting, long wavy hair falling effortlessly over her shoulder. Dressed in an expensive black gown that screamed old money. She looked like the kind of woman who never had to raise her voice to make her point, but still knew how to cut somebody down with a smile. Pierre stood up immediately, greeting them with a grin. "Ma, Pops. Y'all finally made it." Juste had told me some about Pierre's parents ,Abel and Vera, but not much. I knew there was bad blood between Abel and Juste because when he did talk about him, he never had anything nice to say. When I asked why Juste would just say that Abel used to fuck with him when he was a child telling him that he was soft and a sissy
With a smirk, Pierre motioned toward Amina, who was still sitting comfortably, sipping her drink like she owned the damn room. "This my date, Amina," Pierre said, watching for their reaction. Amina lifted her chin slightly, flashing a polite but amused smile. "Pleasure to meet y'all." Vera's eyes swept over Amina, taking her in like she was assessing her worth in real time. Then, just as quickly, she smiled—a smooth, practiced kind of smile. "A pleasure," she said, her tone soft but cool. "Pierre never mentioned he was bringing a date. We're usually the first to hear about these things." Amina's eyebrow twitched just a little. "Guess he wanted to keep it a surprise," she replied smoothly, then took another sip. I smirked. My girl could hold her own.
Meanwhile, Abel's eyes flicked over to Saint. "Brother," he said with a nod. Saint nodded back, his expression unreadable. "Abel." The energy shift at the table was crazy. It wasn't loud. Wasn't obvious. But the tension was thick enough to cut. I glanced between the two men, picking up on what nobody was saying. Juste's hand pulled me closer to him. Vera's attention finally landed on Ms. Evie, who, up until now, had been shockingly quiet. "Evie," Vera greeted, her tone dripping in something I couldn't quite place. Evie smiled, but it wasn't her usual expression. It was tight, forced. Like she was holding something back. "Vera," she responded. "Glad y'all could make it. We were just wondering if y'all were coming this year." Something about the way she said it felt... layered.
Vera gave a soft laugh, reaching for the flute of champagne Pierre had handed her. "Oh, you know we wouldn't miss it. Family is too important to us." I caught the way Evie's eyes narrowed, just slightly. Saint leaned back in his chair, rubbing his beard, watching the whole interaction like he was waiting for the inevitable fallout.
