I just had to figure out how to keep it without destroying it in the process.
Priest was waiting in my office when I got home.
I saw his car in the driveway—the black Escalade he drove when he wanted to be seen, not the unmarked sedan he used for business that required discretion. That alone told me this wasn’t a casual visit. Priest didn’t show up at my house after midnight unless something was wrong or about to be.
I found him in the leather chair by the window, nursing a glass of my bourbon, his eyes tracking the city lights below. He didn’t turn when I walked in, didn’t acknowledge my presenceuntil I’d poured myself a drink and settled into the chair across from him.
“You’ve been spending a lot of time in the Seventh Ward,” he said finally, his voice even but weighted with something I couldn’t quite name.
I took a slow sip of bourbon, letting it burn down my throat before I answered. “Personal business.”
“Personal business gets people talking.” Priest turned to look at me then, his expression unreadable in the dim light. “And when people talk, enemies listen.”
The air in the room shifted. I set my glass on the side table with deliberate care, my mind already calculating what he knew, what he’d heard, and how much damage control I’d need to do.
“What are they saying?” I asked, keeping my voice neutral.
Priest leaned forward, elbows on his knees, the glass dangling from his fingers. “That you’ve got a woman. That you’re distracted. That you’re soft.”
My jaw tightened. The wordsoftlanded like an insult, like a challenge, like the kind of thing that got men killed in our world. “I’m not soft. And I’ve been seen around town with Alexis too.”
“I know that.” Priest’s voice was steady, matter-of-fact, the tone of a man stating an obvious truth. “But Rahsaan doesn’t. And he’s pressing harder. Two more shipments hit last week. He’s testing you, Amai. Seeing if the rumors are true. Seeing if you’re vulnerable. And anyone with eyes can see you don’t like Alexis. She’s a placeholder until you decide to move on whoever is in Seventh Ward.”
I felt the familiar cold settle over me—the same cold that had kept me alive this long, that had built my empire, that had made men fear my name. “Then I’ll remind him why that’s a bad idea.”
“And the woman?” Priest asked, his eyes locked on mine. “What about her?”
“She’s not up for discussion.”
The silence stretched between us. Priest studied me with the kind of attention that missed nothing, the kind of scrutiny that came from years of reading people for survival. Then he said it, quiet but certain. “She’s pregnant, isn’t she?”
I went still.
Not the kind of still that came from surprise. The kind that came from a predator recognizing a threat and deciding whether to strike or retreat. My hand tightened around the glass. My breathing didn’t change. But something in my face must have given me away because Priest nodded slowly, like I’d just confirmed what he already knew.
“I’m not stupid, Amai.” He set his glass down and leaned back in the chair, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp. “You don’t send chefs and doctors to random women. You don’t sit in the Seventh Ward eating dinner at somebody’s mama’s house unless it matters. You don’t break your own patterns, don’t change your routine, don’t make yourself visible in neighborhoods you’ve got no business being in—not unless something’s changed. Not unless someone matters.”
I didn’t respond. Couldn’t. Because he was right and we both knew it. I wasn’t surprised that Priest knew what I was up to. It’s what I paid him for.
“It matters,” I said finally, the words coming out rougher than I intended.
Priest nodded again, slower this time, like he was processing the weight of what I’d just admitted. “Then you need to protect her. Because if Rahsaan finds out you’ve got a pregnant woman in the Seventh Ward, he’s not going to see a personal matter. He’s going to see leverage. He’s going to see the one thing that can make you move without thinking. And he’s going to use it.”
The cold in my chest turned to ice. The thought of Rahsaan—of anyone—getting close to Truth, using her, hurting her to get to me, made something violent and primal rise in my throat.I forced it down, forced myself to stay calm, to think like the strategist I’d trained myself to be instead of the man I was becoming around her.
“He won’t,” I said, my voice flat and absolute.
“You can’t guarantee that.” Priest’s tone wasn’t challenging. It was pragmatic. The voice of a man who’d seen too many plans fall apart, too many people underestimate their enemies, too many bodies dropped because someone thought they were untouchable. “You’re one man, Amai. You can’t be everywhere. You can’t watch her twenty-four hours a day. And the more time you spend in the Seventh Ward, the more visible you make yourself, the easier it is for Rahsaan to figure out what you’re protecting.”
“Watch me.”
The words came out cold. Final. The kind of tone that ended conversations and made men reconsider their next move. But Priest didn’t flinch. He just looked at me with something that might have been concern or might have been resignation—I couldn’t tell which.
“I’m not saying this to piss you off,” Priest said quietly. “I’m saying this because I’ve been with you since the beginning. I’ve watched you build this empire from nothing. I’ve seen you make decisions that other men wouldn’t have the stomach for. And I’ve never—not once—seen you compromise your position for anyone. But this woman? She’s already changing you. And if I can see it, Rahsaan can see it. And that makes her a target.”
I stood, the movement sharp and sudden, and walked to the window. The city sprawled out below me—my city, the territory I’d fought for, bled for, killed for. Every block represented a decision, a sacrifice, a line I’d drawn and defended. I’d built this empire on the principle that nothing and no one could be used against me. That I was untouchable because I had nothing to lose.
But that wasn’t true anymore.
