Heat climbed my throat. I wanted to smile, to cry, to call him and demand he come back right now so we could talk about it. Instead, my throat closed up, and all I could manage was, “It’s both.”
“So, this is normal?”
“This is Lesley. That’s us. One minute we get close, then we pull back. And it’s not just him, it’s me too. It’s our lives.”
“Girl,” Yaslynn said, sinking back into her chair, fanning herself with the velvet bag, “you married a man who sends apology jewelry through his security team, floods your place with two hundred roses, and lives in a penthouse that looks like a damn magazine spread. And you’re telling us you don’t know what any of it means?”
“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” I said quietly, almost to myself.
“But you lowkey love the most dangerous man in Coupeville,” Rebecca finished for me, her tone somewhere between teasing and dead serious.
I looked down at the ring again, at the way it threw rainbows across the room, lighting up the roses, the boxes, my trembling hands. “Yeah,” I admitted softly. “Exactly.”
“Could be worse, friend,” Yaslynn said, picking up one of the gift bags and peeking inside. “At least your dangerous man has excellent taste and deep pockets.”
Rebecca laughed, shaking her head at the absurdity of it all. “Girl, this is like something out of a movie. Evil crime boss falls for the woman who witnessed his dirty work.”
“Except he’s not evil,” I said, surprising myself with how quickly I defended him. “He’s just... complicated.”
“Complicated men who send two hundred roses are the best kind of complicated,” Yaslynn said pragmatically. “Trust me, I’ve dated enough simple broke niggas to know.”
I couldn’t help but scream in laughter at that. “Y’all are ridiculous, but haven’t we all?”
“We’re realistic,” Rebecca corrected. “And we’re your friends, which means we’re going to support you through whatever this is, even if it gives us gray hair worrying about your safety.”
“Let’s take a picture,” I suggested, needing to capture this moment, my two best friends surrounded by evidence of a life none of us could have imagined for me six months ago.
We huddled together on the floor, sitting cross-legged among the roses and gift bags like we were teenagers at a sleepover. I held my phone up toward the mirrored ceiling, angling it to catch all of us and the floral explosion surrounding us.
“Say ‘crime wife,’” Yaslynn called out, making us all dissolve into laughter just as I snapped the photo. I couldn’t wait to speak to him. There was so much to be said.
Five days after the wedding…
My fist connected with the man’s jaw, sending him sprawling across the concrete floor. The satisfying crack echoed through the warehouse, but it did nothing to ease the frustration burning in my chest. Five days of this shit. Five days of reminding niggas why they needed to respect the chain of command, why they couldn’t just decide the new boss was soft because I wasn’t my father.
What made it worse was that I’d had to leave her right when I was ready to tell her I was on what she was on. That’s what had me ready to tear St. Louis apart with my bare hands. It was that I’d had to leave Coco. Right when we were finally getting somewhere.
Since I’d taken over, every small-time dealer and wannabe kingpin thought they could test me, see how far they could push before I pushed back. The Castellanos had been the worstof them—moving product through territory that had been ours for fifteen years, acting like the change in leadership meant the boundaries had shifted.
They were learning the hard way that I wasn’t Legend, I was twice as ruthless when crossed. The problem was, my heart wasn’t fully in the lesson I was teaching. My mind kept drifting to cream silk pajamas and night gowns and the way she’d looked at me when I kissed her cheek at Taiwan’s wedding.
That moment had been playing on repeat in my head for days, torturing me while I handled business that required my full attention.
“I’m not a toy to share. Jealousy doesn’t suit you.”
“I’m jealous of anyone who gets your attention when I’m not around,” I’d whispered against her ear, meaning every word. “Even harmless old niggas. But you got a light in you, Coco. I wouldn’t dare snuff it out. Shine, baby.”
And I'd meant that shit. Every word. She walked into rooms and people turned toward her without knowing why. The last thing I wanted to do was dim that by keeping her locked away from the world.
But fuck, I wanted to be the one she shone the brightest for.
I sent another fist through his jaw, bone cracking from the power behind it. I loved a gun like anybody else, but flesh-to-flesh? That shit reminded a man exactly who he was dealing with. Reminded him to respect my hands, my work, my name. Niggas had me fucked up. I couldn’t get over that.
“I asked you straight, who was moving weight in territory they had no business in, and you looked me dead in my face, talking about the streets was quiet.”
“Man, Grim?—”
“Shut the fuck up. Imagine my surprise when I find out you weren’t even man enough to claim your shit. Got your wife put in the dirt behind your lies. Tsk tsk.”
