Page 35 of Riot

“Okay. But you have to come back. That same night. No disappearing acts. No running off. You swear?”

I nodded slowly, my face calm.

“I swear.”

But deep down, where the truth pulsed in my bones, I already knew—I had no intention of coming back.

Not this time.

And definitely not for her.

Chapter 10

RIOT

The skyline always looked best from up here—black velvet sky stretched tight over Harlem, buildings sharp as diamonds under the streetlights. My penthouse was dark but warm, wrapped in leather, marble, and shadows. I liked it that way. No unnecessary lights. Just the glow of the city outside and the soft hum of jazz playing low through the ceiling speakers.

We were gathered around the terrace bar—me, Creed, Rollo, and Abra—passing a bottle of Yamazaki and thick cigars like we had no worries in the world. Rollo had just sparked up, leaning back in one of my woven patio chairs, while Abra perched on the edge of the fire-pit, legs crossed, her dark curls glinting in the amber light.

Creed nursed his drink like always—controlled, measured, always the calm in the storm.

I liked these nights. Moments where we could just breathe, without someone needing protection, without shipments to intercept or bodies to clean up. Just family. Just flame and smoke and shit talk.

“You know,” Creed started, eyes sliding toward me as he leaned against the railing, “wedding’s getting close.”

“Don’t remind me,” I muttered, tipping my glass back. “Y’all been dragging me to tux fittings like I’m the one getting married.”

He grinned. “You got a date yet?”

The room fell quiet.

Then all at once—laughter.

Rollo let out a snort that nearly sent smoke up his nose. Abra leaned back and let out a full-belly laugh. Even Creed chuckled, shaking his head like he already knew the answer.

“Yeah, okay,” I said, smirking. “Y’all got jokes.”

“We know that seat next to you is gon’ be empty,” Rollo said, tapping ash into a crystal tray. “Harlem’s finest bachelor.”

Abra raised her glass. “The man, the myth, the community dick.”

I shot her a look. “Watch it.”

She winked.

“My dick ain’t for the community. Just the baddies I choose.”

Creed stayed quiet, watching me the way only a big brother could. Like he was trying to see through the armor I wore like skin.

Rollo shook his head. “All jokes aside, you need to find a good one, man. Like Creed did. Sloane leveled this man up. Gave him something solid. Hell, she even made him softer. You just gotta find your good woman.”

I scoffed. “Good women are like diamonds in a haystack. And I ain’t got time to bleed my hands searching for one.”

Creed raised an eyebrow. “You don’t believe they exist?”

I leaned back in my chair, let the smoke roll from my mouth slow. “I believe in them. I just don’t think they want a man like me.”

There was silence again—but it was different this time. Heavier. I didn’t even mean to say that part out loud. Nobody knew the shit I carried with me.

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