I watched him lean back in his seat, nodding slowly, his hand resting on his chin, that sharp mind of his already turning over the information. I hated how fine he looked when he was serious like this. How the weight of his power, his control, was so effortless, so natural. How this tension between us was thick enough to cut with a knife. I had to remind myself to breathe. Because if I wasn't careful...I was gonna start wanting things I had no business wanting.
The tension in the room was thick, heavy, the kind that settled between two people when too much had already been left unsaid. Juste was still leaning back in his chair, his hand resting against his chin, eyes locked onto mine with that slow, unreadable gaze of his. Then, in that low, smooth voice, he said, "Tonight, I'm not askin' you not to speak. Just askin' you to follow my lead." He let the words settle, his tone calm, but I wasn't stupid—there was a layer of expectation underneath that. Not a request. A demand. "The family will be there," he continued, his dark eyes watching me closely. "They know you the accountant... but they don't know—" he paused, tilting his head slightly, "—our arrangement."
I let out a slow breath, tilting my head as I gave him a dry look. "You mean, you kidnapping me? But okay, understood." His lips twitched. Like he wanted to smirk. Like he enjoyed that I still had the nerve to talk shit, even sitting across from him in his house, working his numbers, playing his game. He leaned forward, resting his arms on the desk, closing some of the space between us. "You still mad about that?" I scoffed. "Are you serious right now?"
He chuckled low, shaking his head. "You eatin' good. Got your own office. Nobody put hands on you. Nobody pimpin' ya pussy. Coulda been worse." I folded my arms, my eyes narrowing. "So what, I'm supposed to be grateful?" His gaze dropped to my lips for a half-second before dragging back up to meet my eyes. "Nah," he murmured, voice smooth as silk. "I like you just like this—mad as hell." My stomach clenched, and I hated how my body reacted to his words.
I swallowed, straightening my back, keeping my expression blank. "If you want me to follow your lead tonight, you better make sure you give me something worth following." He smirked then, slow and knowing. "Don't worry, baeeby." He stood up, his movements easy, controlled, like a man who always got his way. "By the time tonight is over, you gon' see exactly who you followin'." I held his stare, my fingers curling against the armrest of my chair.
JUSTE
I stood at the bottom of the stairs, glancing at my watch, jewelry for Chiana in hand. I had been waiting on her to come down, dressed and ready to go, but she was taking her sweet-ass time. I exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand down my face before I took the stairs, my steps slow, measured. She was already testing my patience. When I reached the bedroom, I pushed the door open without knocking. She was standing near the full-length mirror, back turned to me, adjusting her dress. I opened my mouth to say something—probably to rush her ass along—but then she turned around. And I got stuck.
My breath damn near left my chest. That dress...That fucking dress. It hugged her like it was made for her, sculpting every curve, every inch of that body I had been trying to ignore for days. Her titties sat perfect, round and full, her nipples slightly hard against the fabric. The thin diamond-studded straps rested delicately on her smooth brown skin, leading my eyes straight to her collarbone, to the soft, exposed skin of her shoulders. And those damn braids—long, framing her face, falling around her shoulders like she was wearing them just for me. I felt the heat creep through my body, my dick twitching in my slacks before I even had a chance to check myself. Fuck. I was gon' kill them niggas for letting her buy this dress. She'd be more than the center of attention tonight—she was about to be a fucking problem. I clenched my jaw, locking my expression back into place before I crossed the room, moving toward her without saying a word.
Her eyes stayed on me, that little smirk playing at the corner of her lips like she knew what she was doing to me. Like she felt the tension too. I ignored it. Ignored her. Instead, I lifted the diamond tennis necklace, stepping behind her, brushing her hair to the side. My fingers grazed her bare skin, and I felt her inhale sharply. She let me fasten the clasp around her neck, the cool diamonds settling against her skin. Then, I grabbed the bracelet, sliding it onto her wrist, my fingertips lingering a little too long before I stepped back. "You look good," I murmured, my voice lower than I meant for it to be.
She lifted her chin slightly, looking me dead in my eyes, her lips curling into something smug. "I know," she said smoothly. Then, like she had been waiting for the moment, her eyes dropped—right to the bulge in my slacks. A slow, knowing smirk stretched across her lips, her gaze dragging back up to mine, eyes full of pure mischief. I chuckled, shaking my head as I adjusted myself, stepping back. "Keep playin'," I warned, my voice full of amusement, but my tone laced with something darker. Something promising. She just smirked, tilting her head, a challenge shining in her eyes.
"Okay, now I'm ready," Chiana said, digging in her clutch, pulling out a small bag before tossing two gummies in her mouth. I frowned, watching her chew . "Ya ass takin' weed gummies?" I asked, laughing, shaking my head. Every day, I learned something new about this woman.
She raised a brow, swallowing. "Yes, I am. Don't need my nerves bad." She held out the bag toward me. "Here, eat two." I chuckled, taking the bag from her, looking down at them knowing the probably wouldn't do shit to me. "You really tryna get me high before this party'?"
"Just take them, Juste," she said, tilting her head, daring me to refuse. She really wasn't taking no for an answer. I smirked, shaking my head before popping two in my mouth, chewing slow as I watched her.
The drive to the venue was silent, but not uncomfortable. Chiana sat beside me, her legs crossed, fingers toying with her bracelet, eyes locked on the city lights flashing past the window. I knew she was nervous. She wasn't used to this world, wasn't used to sitting across from people like my pops, my ma, my brothers. She might've been my accountant on paper, but this was more than business. As we pulled up to the entrance, I reached over, grabbing her hand. Her fingers were warm, soft against mine, and for a second, she tensed—like she wasn't expecting it. Then, just as quickly, she relaxed, exhaling as I ran my thumb slowly across the back of her hand. "You good?" I murmured, my voice low, reassuring. She swallowed, nodding once, her grip tightening around mine for just a second before she pulled her hand back, straightening in her seat. I smirked to myself.
Inside, the energy was thick—expensive suits, hushed conversations, the scent of top-shelf liquor mixing with the deep bass from the music humming through the walls. I guided Chiana toward our table, my hand resting low on her back, making sure everybody in the room saw who she walked in with.
As we approached, my mama, Evie, was already eyeing us, her sharp gaze looking over Chiana like she was piecing her together. My pops, Saint, was seated next to her, his expression unreadable, but his presence alone carried weight. He was a man of few words but all power. Jules and Nia were already at the table too, Nia giving Chiana a warm, knowing smile, Jules just nodding in acknowledgment.
I pulled out Chiana's chair, guiding her down before taking my seat beside her. "This the accountant I was telling y'all about, Chiana" I said, my tone even, controlled. Chiana gave a polite smile, folding her hands in her lap, playing the part. But my ma, She wasn't buying it. Her eyes narrowed just slightly, her lips pressing into a line before she tilted her head. "That so?" I felt Chiana shift beside me, felt her posture tighten just a little. Ma wasn't one to miss anything. And I already knew she had questions.
Ma leaned forward slightly, her dark, knowing eyes locked onto Chiana. "That so?" she repeated, her voice smooth, calm—but carrying that mother's intuition weight. I felt Chiana shift slightly beside me, adjusting the way she sat, but to her credit, she held her own. "Yes, ma'am," Chiana said, her voice even. "Juste brought me in to clean up the books, make sure everything runs smooth. “Evie lifted a brow, dragging her gaze from Chiana to me. "Oh, so now you need help with the books?"
I smirked, leaning back in my chair. "Somethin' like that." She hummed, glancing back at Chiana. "And how you feel about working for my son?" I knew what my mama was doing—poking, prodding, seeing if she could get a crack in Chiana's composure. But Chiana didn't fold. She tilted her chin slightly, her confidence settling in. "He's direct. Knows what he wants. Stubborn as hell. But I've handled worse." I raised a brow at that, watching her. My mama smirked. Pops, who had been sitting back quietly, let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "This one got a mouth on her, huh?" I smirked, nodding. "Yeah. She do." Chiana cut her eyes at me but didn't say nothing. Ma sat back, studying her like she was deciding something. Then she exhaled, giving a slight nod. "Mm. We'll see." I knew what that meant. She wasn't fully convinced, but she respected the fact that Chiana didn't shrink under pressure.
I reached for my glass, taking a slow sip of whiskey before nodding toward Chiana's untouched glass of champagne. "You gon' sip or just sit there lookin' pretty?" She let out a soft breath, then reached for her glass, taking a sip, her lips wrapping around the rim slow, calculated. And I felt it. That thick, quiet tension settling between us again. She wasn't just drinking to drink—she was playing, testing. The same move she made by getting that dress . And she was about to find out real quick that she wasn't the only one that could play that game. I leaned in, my voice low so only she could hear. "Good girl." She damn near choked on her drink, coughing slightly as she set it back down, her eyes snapping to mine. I chuckled, leaning back, satisfied. Yeah.
I noticed Meechie the second he started walking toward the table. He moved like he always did—loud, confident, like he ain't have a care in the world. His pops was close with ours, we all ran in the same circles, made the same money, handled the same kind of business. But Meechie ain't know when to shut the fuck up. He went around the table, speaking to everybody, dapping up Jules, giving a respectful nod to Pops. But when he made it to me and Chiana, that's when the nigga got bold. He stopped, letting his eyes drag over her, slow as hell, like he was undressing her in his head. That was his first mistake. I tightened my grip on my glass, my jaw flexing as I waited, knowing this nigga was about to push it. "Damn, girl, you fine as hell," Meechie said, grinning like he ain't have no damn sense. "Can I get a minute of yo time?"
Chiana, unfazed as always, picked up her champagne glass, took a slow sip, then let her eyes drift over to me. She ain't have to say a word. I set my glass down, my movements easy, controlled, before looking at Meechie. My voice was calm, but the weight behind it was heavy. "Hell nawl, Meechie. But you can get the fuck on." The energy at the table shifted immediately. Mama and Pops' eyes snapped to us, the air going thick, heavy with unspoken shit. Meechie chuckled, holding his hands up in defense. "Damn, cous, no disrespect." I didn't move, didn't blink, just stared at him. He knew better.
Mama leaned back in her chair, raising a brow, her voice smooth but sharp. "Just the accountant, huh?" I dragged my tongue over my teeth, exhaling slow, keeping my expression blank. "I already told you what she is," I murmured, my tone even. Mama let out a little hum, tapping her manicured nails against the table, eyes still locked on me like she was putting pieces together in her head. Pops let out a low chuckle, shaking his head slightly before taking a sip of his whiskey. Jules smirked, and Nia was watching us in a way that let me know Jules had hipped her on the whole situation.
I turned my head, my eyes landing on Chiana, who was having a conversation now with Nia, taking in the way she sat there, comfortable now, sipping her drink like she had belonged in this world all along. She had this ease about her tonight—relaxed, playful even. The tension that usually sat in her shoulders had loosened, and I knew it had everything to do with them damn gummies she had popped earlier. I smirked, grabbing the champagne bottle off the table, tilting it over her glass, watching as the bubbles rose, filling it back up. She glanced at me as I poured, then let her eyes drift back to Nia, their conversation picking right back up like I wasn't even there.
I leaned back in my chair, stretching my arm over the back of hers, just watching. Noles and Pierre strolled up, taking seats at the table, both of them immediately picking up on the way Chiana was laughing and giggling with Nia. Nia was leaned in, whispering something that had Chiana covering her mouth, trying to stifle her laugh, but failing miserably. They looked like two kids in the back of the class about to get in trouble, and for some reason, the sight of it made something settle in my chest. She was comfortable. Too comfortable. I liked that shit.
But my attention shifted when I caught movement near the entrance. Kaito and Miguel stepped inside, their presence shifting the energy in the room immediately. I set my glass down, locking eyes with Jules and Pops. We ain't have to say a word. We already knew what time it was. Business. Miguel had business out in Puerto rico he was trying to expand, and Kaito wanted to bring some shit into Korea town. They both were here tonight to seal the deal. I pushed away from the table, fixing my suit jacket as I stood. Chiana must've felt me move because her eyes drifted to me, glassy but still sharp. I leaned down, lowering my voice so only she could hear. "Keep drinkin'. Enjoy yourself. I'll be back. Gotta handle somethin' real quick." She tilted her head up, her lips curving into a small, slow smile. A genuine one. Not the sarcastic ones she usually threw my way. Something about that made my chest tighten, but I ignored it. Instead, I smirked, watching her nod before turning right back to her conversation with Nia, completely unfazed. Her glossy eyes, her relaxed shoulders, the way she was just going with it tonight—it made me chuckle. She was dangerous in a way she didn't even realize. Because when she let herself relax, when she let herself feel instead of fight... She was damn near irresistible.
_
After about 45 minutes, the deal was done. Kaito and Miguel were gone, and the weight of three million dollars’ worth of business had been sealed. "Salute," Pops said, raising his glass before we all threw back a shot of whiskey. The burn hit my chest, settling warm in my gut as I stood back, letting the energy of the room shift now that business was out the way. I barely had to look for her. She was on the dance floor with Nia, laughing, moving, letting herself free. She was feeling herself. And I felt that shit. The way she swayed her hips, the way the diamonds on her dress straps caught the light, the way her braids fell over her shoulders as she moved. I smirked.
"She sho got comfortable fast," Jules muttered, throwing back another shot, standing beside me, watching them the same way I was. Pops stood on my other side, nodding his head slow before cutting me a sideways glance. "The accountant, huh?" I exhaled through my nose. "Man, come on, Pops." He just shrugged, taking a slow sip from his glass. "I'm just sayin'." He glanced back at Chiana, then at me, his eyes sharp, knowing. "Smell like bullshit."
Jules chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. "Nigga, you have no idea." Pops turned to face us fully now, brows lifted. "What the hell that supposed to mean?" Jules, drunk off his ass and talking way too much, smirked, tipping his head toward me. "This nigga kidnapped her ass once she didn't agree to the terms and conditions," he snorted, damn near laughing. "That lady is missing technically." I clenched my jaw, cutting Jules a look. Pops' face twisted in pure frustration.
