Page 86 of Riot

We sat close. Real close.

I leaned in, let my voice dip low. “Now that you’re free... what do you really want?”

She didn’t answer right away. Played with the corner of her napkin like she was weighing her words.

“I used to want to be a fashion designer,” she said finally. Her voice was soft, but there was a flicker behind it—like fire under glass. “Before I was taken… I would sketch all the time. I was gaining some momentum. Girls at my high school were asking me to design their prom dresses.” she paused, exhaling. “Ten years in white killed all my color. But lately... I’ve been dreaming about it again. I want a fashion legacy.”

I nodded slowly. “You can have it.”

She looked up, lips curling into a soft smile. “You think so?”

“I know so.”

And I meant that shit. I could see it in the way her eyes lit up just talking about it.

After dinner, I didn’t even ask. I just took her to this art supply store a few blocks over. The second we stepped in, her whole face changed. Her eyes lit up like Christmas. She started scanning sketch pads, pencils, markers like they were diamonds. I handed her a basket and told her to go crazy. She hesitated—just for a second—then started filling it up.

Next stop was a place that sold sewing machines. I told the guy working to give me the best one they had. She tried to argue, said it was too much. I ignored her.

“Consider it an investment,” I told her even though I didn’t want anything in return.

She shook her head but her eyes were shining.

By the time we got back to the brownstone, the bags were heavy and her smile was light. I took the machine upstairs, set it in one of the spare rooms,

“This your space now. You can use it to design. Set it up anyway you’d like. Let Harlem be your inspiration.”

“This is the nicest things someone has done for me. I really do appreciate it.”

Tears welled in her eyes as she looked at everything.

“You gotta go after that shit. I wanna see your designs on the runway in Paris, Milan, NYC. I wanna see your shit all over Vogue. If you don’t pursue this, we gon have a problem,” I spoke with authority.

“Is that a threat?”

“That’s a promise.”

She giggle and nodded. “I’d like to go to that huge fabric store in Manhattan for some fabric tomorrow.”

“Cool, we’ll make it happen.”

She extended her arms for a hug and I felt my dick stiffen. I wanted her so bad but I had to keep my discipline. I couldn’t treat her like those other bitches I was used to. She was worthyof love and respect. I was gonna take my time even if it turned my balls blue.

Chapter 27

RIOT

After we settled into the brownstone, I hopped in the shower while Allure got acquainted with the new spot. The water hit my skin hard, almost scalding, but I didn’t flinch. I needed the sting. Something to ground me while my thoughts spun like blades behind my eyes.

There was so much I needed to figure out. So much weighing on me.

Boaz still needed to be handled. That snake wasn’t gonna stay in his cage forever. Once he made bail—and he would—I’d be the only thing standing between him and Allure. And I was more than willing to take that shot. But after that... I didn’t want to keep living like this. The kill-or-be-killed rhythm of our life had worn me thin. I wanted out. Not just from Boaz, but from this whole damn cycle.

I leaned my head against the tile, water cascading down my back, and let that thought settle in my chest.

I was ready to move different.

I was ready to put the killing behind me, for good.

---