I met his eyes. “Would that be a problem?”
A small smile tugged at his mouth. “Might make things easier. But you just met her, nigga.”
“When did you know with Ma?” I asked. Watched his face change.
He cleared his throat. “A marriage of convenience could work.”
I rolled my eyes at him dodging, like always. He never liked talking about my mother, avoided it at all costs.
“My thoughts exactly.”
“You’ve got a week. That’s how long before word spreads we’ve got a loose end. Your uncle’s proud, but bullshit is his middle name. He won’t hesitate to try you.”
“I understand. But respectfully, fuck Tommy.”
“Good. Then go handle it. And son…” he lifted his glass, eyes steady, “if you’re going to do this, do it right. A woman like her will respond better if you turn on the charm. Fear won’t be enough.”
As I left the estate, I pulled out my phone and called my jeweler, Bakari. I had a week to convince Colecion that marriage was her best option—and mine.
The game was about to change, and I intended to win for both of us.
AWeek Later
My life had become a complete disaster, and very quickly. Between constantly looking over my shoulder, wondering if today was the day Lesley decided I was too much of a liability to keep breathing, I was barely holding it together.
Hiding out in this downtown hotel was the best thing I could think of doing, though I knew it probably wouldn’t make a real difference. If he wanted to find me, he would. At least here, surrounded by other guests and hotel staff, I felt marginally safer than I did alone in my home.
Pilates was the only thing that kept me from spinning out completely. The routine. The burn. The silence. I wasn’t trying to find peace; I just needed somewhere to put all the energy I’d been bottling up since Friday night. I could still smell him in my home, that cologne, that presence that seemed to linger in every room like smoke.
Lesley Grimson hadn’t called. Hadn’t texted. Hadn’t sent one of his silent, brooding messengers with some half-coded message meant to check my temperature. Instead, he sent jewelry. Van Cleef, Alhambra, yellow gold, mother of pearl—tasteful but undeniable. It sat heavily on my wrist and neck as I walked back from my morning workout. I hadn’t taken it off since it arrived.
But I wasn’t stupid. A gift like that wasn’t just an apology. It was a warning. A claim. A line drawn in the sand, but he couldn’t buy me.
My phone buzzed as I reached the hotel lobby.
Unknown: Marry Me.
I stopped dead in my tracks, my hand frozen on the elevator button. Not “Will you marry me?” Not even a question. Just a command, delivered the same way he probably ordered his morning coffee.
My brows knitted together before I even realized I was reacting. Him. It had to be. Completely unserious at the most serious time. I knew what I’d seen in that basement. Knew what it meant. And I knew that in his world, witnesses didn’t usually get to walk away with their lives, let alone jewelry and pet names.
I stared at the screen, thumb hovering. The audacity should have made me angry, but underneath it, I heard desperation, maybe. Or strategy. With Lesley Grimson, it was hard to tell the difference.
Finally, I typed one word, “No,” and hit send before I could overthink it. He didn’t respond. He didn’t need to.
Back in my room, every option felt impossible. Stay quiet and hope. Run and end up alone again. Or marry a man who could make me disappear. A proposal. In the middle of this nightmare.
The knock on my door made me freeze, fork halfway to my mouth with the sad room service salad I’d ordered. My heart started racing the way it had been doing constantly for the past seven days.
“Room service,” came a muffled voice from the other side of the door.
I exhaled slowly. I hadn’t ordered anything else, but maybe they’d made a mistake.
I crept to the peephole and looked out. A young Black man in a hotel uniform stood there with a covered tray, looking bored and checking his phone. He looked harmless enough, but at this point, I didn’t trust anyone.
“I didn’t order anything else.”
“Says here room 412, Colecion Outlaw. Compliments of the house.”
