Jules was on the couch with his arm tossed over the back like he didn't have a care in the world. Nia rolled her eyes at him before tossing her keys in the bowl near the door. "Y'all look like y'all just came from a damn intervention," Jules said, half-laughing. "That's 'cause we did," Nia tossed back, kicking off her shoes. "Yo mama done tricked us into goin' to the casino. Said she wanted to take us to dinner." Jules blinked. "Wait, what?" Juste chuckled dryly as he plopped down into the recliner. "She played fuck out they ass."
"Oh, it was worse than that," I added, dropping down next to Nia on the couch. "We lost her for an hour and a half. Jules, we was in that casino lookin' like some damn interns on the first day of training." Nia cracked up. "Yo mama had me out there lookin' like a damn lost child in Walmart." Juste shook his head, dragging a hand down his face like he was physically trying to wipe the stress off. "Do Daddy know about this shit? She startin' to stress me out real bad with this gamblin' shit." he muttered, voice heavy. "Hell yeah, Daddy know," he answered himself with a hollow laugh, eyes still fixed on the ceiling. "He was there. Whole situation damn near turned into a movie. Straight up told Mama she could pack it up for rehab or he want a divorce. Said he done. Done done." The room went still. Jules sat up, jaw clenching, a slow growl of frustration rolling from his chest. "Man, he just can't go breakin' up the family like that..."
"You think he want to?" Juste cut him a sharp look. "You think pops wanna walk away after all these years, after all the shit they been through? Nah, Ju. But this ain't just family drama no more. This shit bleed over into everything. The business. The streets. The cartel sniffin'. That casino debt she keep rackin' up? Somebody gon' collect—and it ain't gon' be with a pink slip, feel me?" Jules leaned back again, silent, jaw still tight. Nia shifted in her seat next to him, crossing her legs and folding her arms like she was biting her tongue.
I sat there, soaking it all in. This was the side of the St. Jeans people didn't see. The side most only heard whispers about—the cracks in the crown. And I hated it for them. Hated it for Juste. I looked over at him, the way he stared blankly ahead like he was calculating next moves with every inhale. The weight of being Saint's son—of being the one everybody looked to when shit fell apart—was all over his face. You could see it in the lines digging into his forehead, the way his eyes flickered even when he was still. "This gon' shift the whole family dynamic," I said quietly. "If they split up... that's gon' affect everybody." Juste nodded slowly. "I know. But it ain't no loyalty in let somebody drown they self. And mama... she been in the deep end, Chi. We been throwin' her life jackets and ropes, and she just keep swimmin' further out."
Jules let out a long sigh, rubbing his hands together. "So what we doin'? What's next?"Juste didn't answer right away. "We keep movin'. We handle the business. We keep shit runnin'. And we pray to God mama make the right choice," he said finally. "But we can't save nobody that ain't ready to be saved."
Nia broke the silence with a soft chuckle. "Damn, Juste. You sound like you been readin' the Bible and The 48 Laws of Power at the same time." That pulled a laugh out of all of us. The heaviness didn't vanish, but it loosened its grip—just enough for us to breathe, to feel human for a moment. Juste leaned back, that sly smirk of his creeping across his lips as he looked between Nia and Jules like he was tryna clock the vibe. "Yeah yeah... I see you and my brother can be in the same room without eatin' each other face off. Y'all decided to work on the marriage or some?" I blinked, side-eyeing him hard like boy, if you don't mind your damn business...
Nia paused mid-sip of her drink, giving Jules the slowest turn of the head I'd seen in a minute. Jules just sighed and looked straight ahead like he was suddenly fascinated by the fireplace. "Why you tryna be messy, Juste?" I asked, smirking . He held both hands up, feigning innocence. "What? I'm just askin' a simple question. Peace in the house of Nia and Jules St. Jean? That's newsworthy."
"Oh, so now you Larry King with the interviews?" Nia quipped. "We good for today. That's what you need to know."
"Mmhmm, good for today," Jules repeated. I glanced at Nia, and our eyes met for a split second—just long enough for her to know what I was thinking. The conversation we had earlier about her juggling Jules and Nash sat between us like unspoken smoke. She looked away quickly, avoiding the reflection in my face that mirrored her truth. Jules didn't even peep it, too caught up in his own head. And maybe that was the problem.
After another fifteen minutes of lounging, cracking a few more jokes, and letting the tension unravel just enough to breathe, we decided it was time to dip. The night had stretched itself out long and thin, and I was ready to be up under my man. We said our goodbyes sliding into the truck, the leather cold against my thighs. I buckled my seatbelt and leaned back, watching him as he adjusted the mirrors and started the engine. The low hum of the motor was the only thing filling the silence between us. "You tired?" he asked, finally glancing over at me, his voice low. "Yeah," I murmured. "But I'm more drained than anything."
He didn't say anything to that—just reached over, took my hand, and kissed the back of it like he wanted to say sorry but didn't know how to form the words. I looked out the window, the city lights blurring past, thinking how complicated love could get.
JUSTE
I threw my head back and grunted out softly. I was sitting in my office chair at home head throwed back with a hand full of Chiana’s braids wrapped in my fist and she had my dick in the back of her throat. I looked down at her lazily as she came up for air letting spit drip from her mouth to the head of my dick, before she took me back in her mouth. I felt her hands wrap around my dick as she came up sucking the tip swirling her tongue at the same time driving me crazy. She glanced up at me with those eyes that knew just what they was doin', lips slick and glistening. Her pace slowed, teasing, like she was remindin' me who was in control—and who really wasn't. "Fuck Chiana you gon make me nut," I growled out. She hummed taking me in her throat fully while locking eyes with me from under the desk. That did it, I filled her throat as I growled out a loud moan. Knocks started at the door snapping me back to reality. We had a house full of family down stairs. We had ordered take out since mama was still in rehab and we had came together to discuss the grand opening of the shopping center development out in Thiloux. It was two weeks away and we needed to finalize what vendors would be there on opening day.
I looked down at Chiana under the desk, she still had a mouth full of dick making me smirk. "Yo!" Noles voice boomed on the door like a damn battering ram. "We sent y'all up for paperwork, not a private freak session." Chiana's eyes popped wide and she snorted with laughter before taking me out of her mouth and stuffing me back inside my pants, quickly wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and crawling from beneath the desk. I stood and adjusted myself, sighing deep and annoyed.
"Damn, can't get five minutes," I muttered under my breath. Chiana fixed her braids like nothin' happened and leaned over the desk to grab the vendor list. "Tell him I was on the floor lookin' for a pen," she whispered with a wicked smile. I smirked, swatting her ass. "Yeah, a pen... that took your whole throat." We both stifled laughs just as Noles flung the door wide open, lookin' annoyed as hell.
"There y'all go. Damn. We down there waitin’ and yall in here fuckin'" Chiana breezed past Noles, stone-faced like she wasn't just on her knees beneath my desk, but I could see the giggle she was fightin' to keep down from the slight shake in her shoulders. Noles squinted at me, then at her, then sucked his teeth. "They should've sent y'all to rehab wit' Mama ass."
I chuckled low under my breath. "Man, shut up and come on," I said, brushing past him and straightening my shirt. "You sound jealous."
"Jealous? Nigga, please," he muttered behind me as we made our way back downstairs. The kitchen and dining area was filled with noise—plates clinkin', laughter bouncin' off the walls, kids runnin' in and out, and the smell of crawfish drifting through the air. Everybody had pulled up for this meeting. The shopping center out in Thiloux wasn't just a money move—it was legacy. Black-owned, built from the ground up, tucked in a pocket of Louisiana folks had damn near forgot. This was personal. I took my seat at the head of the table, Chiana slid in next to me with a fresh mimosa giggling with Nia. Pierre, Noles, Jules, and Pop was seated at the table, vendor lists and maps of the development spread out between 'em. Even Lulu pulled up on the FaceTime screen, posted in Houston tryna make sure he was looped in. "Aight," Pops said, leanin' in, hands clasped like he was holdin' court. "We two weeks out. I want a clean run. We need to tighten up security, finalize vendor lists, and we still waitin' on three permits to clear."
"And," Pierre added, "we got them local food trucks comin' through, the ones Chiana suggested. She locked down some good-ass ones from that lil' festival she dragged Juste to." Everybody laughed. I smirked, noddin'. "That jambalaya truck? Keepin' that," I said. "That shit slap." Chiana nudged me under the table with her thigh. "Told you."
My tone turnin' serious. "Thiloux gettin' left behind. This development? It ain't just bout bread. It's about showin' our people we ain't forgot 'em. That we got the resources to build somethin' beautiful in a place they said couldn't hold value. And we get to clean this money, and start back movin' product heavy."
Pops nodded. "And makin' sure we got the manpower to protect it." That shifted the energy in the room. Because everybody knew what he was talkin' about. Maseon. Even with him layin' low, he was still a threat. I hadn't said much, but I knew in my soul that fuck nigga was gonna show his face again. It was just a matter of where. Or when. "We got backup vendors in case some fall through," Chiana added, breakin' the tension. "We still need a few more tents and setups for the kids. Bounce house, games, community partners."
"I'll reach out to the Mayor, and sherrif" Jules said, tappin' into his phone. "Get some off-duty presence out there."
"Do that," I nodded, then looked around the table. "I want cameras on every corner. If anything feel off, I wanna know before it even touch the ground." Everybody nodded in agreement. The shit was bigger than just business now. This was about territory, presence, and makin' sure the St. Jean name stayed untouchable. "Pops, you talked to Ma? She gon' be able to make it?" Noles asked, leanin' back in his chair, voice low. I already knew that question been sittin' heavy on everybody's chest. Mama been up in that rehab for three weeks now, and if we was being honest, it was the longest she'd been still in damn near a decade. Pops sighed, standing up and grabbing his keys off the table. " I'm headed out there to see her now. " Just as he exited the door, the front door swung back open. Amina strutted in with that carry-on rollin' behind her and her TSA-approved uniform sittin' .
"We on Bourbon tonighttttt, periodddddtttt!" she sang, droppin' the suitcase and throwing both hands up like she was onstage at a bounce concert. Chiana and Nia fell out laughin', damn near knockin' into each other. I just crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow. “Oh, so y'all just... gon' announce y'all leavin' us behind? Chi you ain't said shit bout no Bourbon" I asked, side-eyein' Chiana hard. She bit her lip, trying not to laugh. "Y'all? You don't even like Bourbon Street."
"Yeah, 'cause it smell like piss and ass. But if y'all steppin', we steppin'. You know damn well that shit aint gon fly."
"Unh uh, hold up," Nia cut in, brows raised, arms crossed. "Jules is my damn sitter, how you just gon' invite him? You tryna mess up what I got going." Jules looked up from tying his shoes like he ain't just get caught in the crossfire. "Girl what? I ain't know I was committed to nothin' tonight."
"I'm talkin' 'bout these kids, Jules. Not me and you," she snapped, rolling her eyes. "Ima be wit my li'l red bone tonight," Noles said, drinkin' straight from his red cup like the shit was water. "The one work at the daycare with the gold tooth. She said she cook smothered turkey necks. We can watch the kids. I miss em anyway."
"Man, don't be tryna use my house to fuck your lil daycare hoe," Jules shot back, snatching his phone off the counter. Noles shrugged, real cool. "Nigga you need the sitter, not me." Right then, Pierre walked in still chewin' . "Mina, I thought I told your ass no 'bout that Bourbon Street shit." She hit him with one of them high-pitched giggles, walkin' straight up to him and wrapping her arms around his neck like a trap. "Well, it's too late now, everybody goin'." Pierre exhaled hard, clearly tryin' not to fold. "Man... you some bullshit"
"I know," she sang, kissin' his cheek and then slappin' his chest lightly like she owned the whole block. "That's why you love me." I looked around the room, even though I hated Bourbon, hated the crowds, hated the smell... I wasn't lettin' Chi out my sight. Not tonight. Not ever again.
_
