Page 108 of Riot

Riot stopped at the overlook, the rows of grapevines stretching beneath us, golden in the late sun. He looked proud. Comfortable. Like a king surveying his land.

“This is it,” he said. “The first event ever thrown. All the right people’ll be here. Press. Buyers. Local officials. Even that senator Creed’s been grooming.”

I nodded, keeping my face blank.

“Don’t fuck it up,” he added, voice dropping low.

My jaw tightened. “I won’t.”

But inside, I was already envisioning the chaos. Fire in the vines. Screams echoing off the stone walls. Blood soaking into that pretty imported wood floor. Riot on his knees, confused as hell, trying to figure out how his little brother beat him at his own game.

I walked back to my car with a smile twitching at the corner of my mouth. Not enough to show. Just enough to feel.

He didn’t see it yet. But his perfect little empire? It was already crumbling.

And I was the one lighting the fuse.

I peeled off from King’s Vine and headed straight for the cemetery to meet Mimi. It was her sister’s birthday and she wanted to pay her respects. And I wanted to be there for her.

The graveyard sat quiet, heavy, as if the earth itself was holding secrets. I rolled slow down the narrow path, the crunch of gravel under my tires the only sound for a stretch. My stomach was tight. Not from nerves, but from anticipation.

Mimi was already there when I arrived, standing at the edge of Malia’s plot. Hair pulled back in a ponytail, arms folded across her chest, that same tension in her jaw that told me she was pissed but holding it in for now. I parked, killed the engine, and walked over slow.

Our son was with her mother for the day. But I missed him. I loved them both so much.

But the headstone was simple. Just her name, her sunrise and sunset, and a Bible verse.

Peace I leave with you, my peace I give you.

Mimi knelt and ran her fingers across the letters, her mouth tight, eyes hard. “I don’t have peace with her gone. I’d have more peace if she were still alive. Happy Birthday Big Sis,” she muttered.

I stayed quiet, letting her speak first. This wasn’t a moment for noise.

“She used to sneak me into clubs when I was sixteen. Had ballers buying me drinks, trying to take me shopping the next day. I was crazy. We had so many good times and we would’ve had so much more if she were still here.”

She stood, brushing off her jeans. “She deserved better than this.”

I nodded, the silence thick between us.

“I know me saying sorry doesn’t change much for you but I really am. Your sister did deserve more than she was given. My brother is a piece of shit for killing her the way he did.”

“Like she was some animal. What kind of man can slit the throat of someone heloved.I know she robbed him but it was just money. You can always make more money but you can’t get life back. And then she was pregnant…”

Mimi began to cry. I draped my arm around her and pulled her in close. She sobbed and I felt so bad for her. I had to get this revenge for the both of us.

“Riot killed her brothers too. Malia and I were half siblings. We had the same mother. But her father had other sons. Those were the ones that got her involved with robbing Riot. Do you know her father got hooked on crack after all his kids were killed by Riot?!” She yelled.

Her voice cracked with rage. Mimi wasn’t just mourning anymore, she was unraveling. Her grief had teeth now, sharp and jagged, and I felt every bit of it sink into my chest like it was mine to carry too.

“I watched my mother go numb,” she said, swiping at her face. “She never came back from that loss. She hasn’t been the same after she lost her. She started drinking and now she’s an alcoholic with a broken heart. ” Mimi turned to me, eyes glossy, voice dropping to something softer but twice as deadly. “And all the while Riot gets to live his best life. He goes on like nothing ever happened.”

I clenched my fists at my sides, jaw tight enough to crack bone. Riot didn’t deserve peace. Not when so many others had been shattered just so he could rise. He walked around like he was the reformed one, the heir apparent, the golden son, but we knew the truth. He was bloodstained and rotten, just like the rest of them.

“I’m gonna make him pay,” I said, my voice low but pulsing with purpose. “Not just for Malia. For all of it.”

Mimi’s eyes searched mine. “You promise? Progress has been real slow on your end.”

“I swear. My plan is coming together.” I told her, pulling her into my chest again, her cheek resting against my heartbeat. “I got you. I got both of y’all.”

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