Page 81 of Riot

I was in trouble.

Big fucking trouble.

The ride upstate to King’s Vine was smooth, but my mind stayed twisted in knots.

Even with the wind cutting through the windows and the silence of the road, I couldn’t shake the way she looked at me when I said she was mine. Like it meant something. Like I meant something. That kind of shit didn’t just land on me—it burrowed in, settled somewhere deep.

I couldn’t afford distractions, but fuck, Allure was already a fixture in my chest. And after all the shit I’ve done, could I really have someone as pure as her? Was I deserving?

By the time I pulled into the gravel lot behind the main house at the vineyard, Abra was pacing in front of the long glass doors. She had her iPad tucked under her arm, a her AirPods in, and a permanent frown etched across her face. Her tight curls were up in a puff, edges laid but starting to lift. I knew that look. She was running on fumes.

“Don’t say it,” she muttered the second I stepped out the car.

“I wasn’t gonna,” I smirked.

“Liar.”

“You right. You look rough baby girl,” I laughed as she playfully pushed me.

“I work hard and my homegirl Irina has been driving me crazy. She’s really scared for her father.”

“She should be,” I shrugged.

I followed her inside, the cool air and smell of fresh oak wine barrels settling over me. I walked with her to the lounge where we would be hosting the open house. The lounge was complete with exposed beams, floor-to-ceiling windows, candles already staged like they were prepping for a wedding. She had repainted and gotten new furniture in as well as a new bar built. It was regal and elegant.

“This shit’s gonna be fire,” I told her, scanning the space.

“Yeah, if I survive it,” she said. “Do you know how many vendors bailed last minute? I had to replace two caterers and a band yesterday. A whole damn band.”

“Why? What happened?”

“I know you wanted to only use black owned vendors.”

“Right. What happened?”

“Well, there were a few businesses that were actually lying about being black owned. A few were Asian owned. Can you believe that? But it’s okay. I’ve taken care of it. This open house is about black elegance and regality. We are gonna put King’s Vine on the map.”

“Damn, I didn’t think people would be that shady. But thank you for staying on top of it. I swear things will get easier once we’re at the finish line.”

“I know,” she said. “That’s why I’m killin’ myself making sure it runs smooth. The wine industry makes folks billionaires. That’s what’s at stake.”

“That’s why I chose it.”

I studied her face. She looked more tired than usual. Even her voice had that cracked edge to it.

“You need help,” I said.

“I need a clone.”

“I can’t give you that, but I can give you a raise and a long ass vacation once we get through the open house.”

She blinked at me. “Wait, what?”

“You’ve been running point since Mama’s been out of commission. Holding it down harder than most of the execs. You earned it. We’re gonna get you exec status.”

For a split second, her face softened. “You serious?”

“Deadass. I’ll talk to Creed this week about it.”

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