Page 10 of Kentrell

Even Kensei stopped mid-convo when he saw them. He locked eyes with the one in a blue dress, made his way over smooth as hell, and pulled her in like they knew each other. I squinted, trying to place her. Could’ve been from his college days, but I didn’t recognize her. Wasn’t from the block, that’s for damn sure.

“That’s her,” Malcolm said.

I frowned and kept watching.

“Not her.” Malcolm must’ve caught my gaze, as I shook my head, eyes moving past the girl in blue to the one just behind her.

She wasn’t loud or flashy. Dressed in black. Quiet, but far from invisible. Her figure caught my eye before her face did—small waist, thick thighs, soft curves hugged by that dress like it was custom. Her posture was calm, controlled. But her presence? Loud as fuck without saying a word.

I knew women like her. Knew the way they could unnerve you with a look. She didn’t need to do much, because her body and that stillness said everything. Even from across the room, Icould feel it. Something about her made me pause, made my jaw clench up just a little.

“That’s her,” Malcolm said again—this time with certainty, his chin tipping toward the one who had my full attention now.

“Her.”

TWO

ZOE

I glanced brieflyover the balcony of The Rooftop at the Apex. Below, traffic shimmered like twinkling Christmas lights. It was only the second week of October, but with November creeping up, retail giants would soon roll out their early holiday campaigns, ready to lure us in.

I inhaled deeply and shifted my focus back to the party, steadying my breath.

For the past year, my life had been a whirlwind of agendas and expectations. I hadn’t had a moment to simplybe. I graduated summa cum laude from the University of Chicago last June, tackled the bar exam in July, and received my results around this time last year. I passed—thank God—and found a voicemail waiting for me before I even made it home. It was an offer from Anderson & Hartman.

My mother, ever the strategist, had “casually” passed along my résumé. Her little gamble paid off. The offer was contingent on passing the bar, but once I did, they placed me in a petite glass office with a lovely view of Millennium Park.

It didn’t take long for me to make an impression. Six months in, I’d already moved up—new title, larger office, anda breathtaking view of the Chicago River. My reputation now entered rooms before I did.

Not that you’ll catchmebragging. But my mama? She’ll shout it from the rooftops.

It’s not that I’m ungrateful—quite the opposite. I’m proud of the path I’ve carved. I set goals and achieved every one of them.

And yet… there’s a restlessness I can’t ignore. Like something else is waiting to meet me halfway.

A new challenge. A different kind of ambition.

Because if I don’t find it soon, I’m afraid I’ll get swallowed whole by the quiet kind of misery—the one that wears heels, smiles on cue, and claps for others while secretly wondering,Is this it?

I crossed my arms over my chest, trying to conceal what little I could. In this dress, I felt like a walking invitation—an object waiting to be objectified. Every curve seemed to scream for attention, and judging by the stares lingering far too long, it was working. I couldn’t escape them.

This look was a far cry from my usual corporate chic. I was an attorney—for goodness’ sake. My imagewasmy brand. I should’ve known better than to let Mars anywhere near my wardrobe.

“Girl, stop acting dumb and take your hands down,” Mars barked, standing a head taller than me at 5'7".

Before I could protest, she yanked my arms away from my chest, leaving me exposed to the breeze and to the crowd. My cheeks flushed instantly, heat crawling up my neck as the night air danced across my skin.

Onlyshecould’ve pulled me this far out of my comfort zone. With that untamed spirit and a name as chaotic as her personality, Mars had always thrived at the intersection of wild and wonderful.

Her butterscotch skin gleamed under the rooftop lights, and her sandy-blonde coils framed her face like a halo of rebellion. Big brown eyes sparkled with delight at my flustered expression. When she grinned, lips full and pink, it was the kind of smile that could convince the Pope to sin.

“You look good,” she said, echoing the chorus of compliments that had followed me all evening.

We’d been tight since childhood. I met Mars about a week before Stacia—Mars lived just down the block, while Stacia's family home was a twenty-minute ride over to Streeterville.

“Yo body raw as hell,” she added, eyes flicking down my silhouette with that same hungry, playful look she always wore when she was two seconds from starting trouble.

Of the four of us, Mars was the most uninhibited—comfortably exploring both ends of the spectrum, romantic or otherwise.

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