Page 61 of Crown: Phase 4

The road eventually led to a restaurant. Crown’s eyes narrowed as Lawson pulled into the parking lot, got out, and walked inside. The restaurant’s darkened windows gave Crown no view of what was happening inside. It was all good, though. He had seen enough to feel like this wasn’t some random dinner stop.

It had been years since Crown had last been there, but the place held history. Before Loki or Preach took over, Crown’s grandfather had met with their father there. Ahmad Sr. had done the same when it was his time to take over. And then Crown with Loki. Business was discussed there. Rules were established there. Nothing involving product or money was ever exchanged until the necessary conversations had already happened. It was the Dessalinés Mob protocol.

Slowly, Crown nodded to himself as the pieces finally began falling into place. The nigga Lawson was most likely dirty. Crown leaned back in his seat and scanned the parking lot. And just like he suspected, Preach’s SUV was there, along with several other vehicles belonging to his guards. Crown’s eyes lingered for a moment as he thought everything through.

It seemed to him Lawson had used the questioning only to find out if Boe had told Maino the truth about why he was running…anything about Preach that could come back and bite them later. That’s why he didn’t give a fuck about Smoky. Crown couldn’t say for sure, but it didn’t matter. He had seen enough to feel like Lawson was connected to Preach somehow. He just had to prove it. Plotting, he backed out of the parking space and pulled off. Nobody would die that day.

Crown made another stop that took him nearly three hours. When he finally made it home, he found Nivéa in her element. He leaned against the doorframe, quietly watching her fold each custom T-shirt with care, wrapping them in tissue paper and sliding them into clear protective bags. She added her business cards and thank-you notes, then a small gift before placing each shirt into the shipping boxes. Pride filled his chest. She’d even managed to lock in that birthday party; the customer had loved the sample. With everything happening around them, his woman still found a way to handle her business and get shit done. He had fucked around and found the female version of himself.

“Aye.” Crown walked up behind her, wrapping his gloved hand gently around her throat, pulling the back of her head against his chest.

“Hey,” Nivéa greeted, releasing a deep breath as she melted back into him.

“Sup, ma? Where’s my baby?” He kissed her cheek.

“She’s with Mama. She took her so I could work.”

He nodded before turning her around to face him. His eyes searched hers.

“How you feeling?”

“I’m okay, I guess.”

“You talk to Reesh?”

“Yep. We FaceTimed. She’s home and sounds a lot better.”

“That’s real good. I’m happy to hear that.”

Nivéa glanced at the boxes. “I’m finally finished. I was wondering if you could take me to the post office to ship them. Or is that not safe? Maybe you can just take them.”

“You always safe with me. I’ll get you there. I know you wanna get out of the house.”

“Okay.”

Nivéa looked into his eyes and felt herself getting lost in them. She loved this man more than she could put into words. She rested her head against his chest, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist. As her hand slipped underneath his shirt and slid across his back, she felt something that made her pause.

“What’s that?”

A small smile tugged at the corner of Crown’s mouth. “Nothing,” he said, fucking with her.

Nivéa frowned, her heart racing. She didn’t find a damn thing funny. “Ahmad, what is that?”

Fear crept through her as she stepped behind him. She reached beneath the edge of his vest and lifted his shirt. When she saw the bandage, her eyes widened. She gently peeled it away with urgency. Nivéa just knew the nigga had been shot and was trying to hide it from her. If she wasn’t so traumatized by everything that had happened lately, she would’ve known it was too thin to be covering a gunshot wound. Still, she peeled until the fresh tattoo was revealed. It was her name. Big, bold, and sitting right above his grandmother’s and mother’s names.

Crown was marked up like the subway in Harlem, but he had purposely left a few spaces for whoever his wife would be. He was always thinking ahead, always mapping shit out, even when he had no idea how life would go. Still, he planned. He had always told himself that if he was lucky enough to meet his person, he would carve her name near the other women in his life he loved dearly.

“You got my name?” Nivéa whispered, a tear slipping from her eye.

Crown nodded. “And the day we made shit official.”

“W... what?”

Crown took off his vest and shirt, and Nivéa walked back around to his front, greeted by his chiseled chest and another bandage. She peeled it off, and sure enough, just below the Knights tattoo was the date they tied the knot. It was sleek and beautiful, with the word forever underneath it. She was floored, completely emotional. So much so, she leaned in and kissed all over it.

“Oh my God, I love them. I can’t believe you.”

“Believe it. Told you, we stuck like glue.” With one arm wrapped around her neck, Crown pulled her close to his chest again. “You bleed for me, I bleed for you.”