Page 228 of Kentrell

My laugh slipped out before I could stop it. I rolled my eyes but my heart was already beating faster.

“Kentrell, why do I get the feeling that you’re applying my girlfriend role to my role as your attorney?”

“‘Cause I am,” he said, smirking like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “We locked in… for everything.”

My heart did a full somersault, but I stayed on script. “That’s not how things operate.”

“That’s how I operate.”

I arched a brow, deciding to push him just a little more. “Don’t you think that gives us a slight conflict of interest, Mr. Caldwell?”

I dragged his last name out slow, lacing it with just enough sarcasm to rile him up. I knew he hated when I called him that. Smiling smug into the camera, I waited for the snap.

His lips parted like he was gonna say something slick… but then he paused, letting the silence hang just long enough for the tension to thicken.

“Nah,” he said finally, voice dropping to that slow, bedroom-deep register that sent a pulse straight between my thighs. “Only conflict I got… is you putting panties on when we go to bed… knowing damn well?—”

“Kentrell!” I gasped, laughing despite myself. He was so damn nasty… and so damn proud of it.

His gaze dragged down the camera like he could see through the screen, see every inch of me… sitting here flushed and squirming like some lovesick fool.

“Then again…” He licked his bottom lip, slow and deliberate, eyes darkening with that hungry stare that always got me in trouble. “I like conflict. ‘Cause I get to push the lil’ muhfuckas to the side… and slide in anyway.”

My stomach dropped so fast I had to press my thighs together under the counter just to keep from completely combusting.

I cleared my throat, fighting the urge to fan myself like somebody’s scandalized auntie. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Nah, I’m motivated.”

And judging by the heat pooling low in my belly… so was I.

But as fast as that warmth built, something else tugged at me. He was making it too easy to forget what I needed to say.

I fell quiet, chewing my bottom lip as the weight of my next words settled like bricks on my chest.

Now felt like the time.

I exhaled slow, steadying myself. “Okay… I hear you,” I said softly, giving him a small nod that made his grin widen like he’d just scored a victory.

“But…” I hesitated, forcing the words out before I chickened out again. “I’ve decided to put in my resignation with Anderson & Hartman. I’m… taking a break for a while.”

His smile vanished.

“What?” His hand dragged down his face with a heavy sigh, frustration already thick in his voice. “Zoe… I thought we talked about this already.”

We had talked about it already, more than once, but as the days stretched into weeks, I couldn’t shake the weight sitting on my chest. I’d tried to dive into work—tried to find joy in billable hours and deposition prep—but nothing outside of Kentrell lit me up anymore. Not the way it used to. Not the way he did.

“I know, but—” I started.

“Nah. Ain’t no buts, Zoe.” He cut me off fast, voice low and sharp like he’d been waiting on me to try it. “And if you about to go back down that nepotism road, stop it. Right now.” His tone turned flatter, firmer. “You worked for yo shit. Every bit of it. The success you seen? That’s you. Your grind. Your late nights. Your brain. If Darius had any pull in that shit, it was small. Barely there.”

I stayed quiet, biting the inside of my cheek as his words pushed against every sore spot I’d been nursing in secret. As much as his voice pulled on my heartstrings, making me want to believe him, the doubt still sat there… thick and bitter.

“Look at me.” His sudden snap yanked my eyes back to the screen. The way his whole face shifted from playful to serious made my stomach knot. “Don’t you think… if he had a play in any of yo shit… you woulda seen his name somewhere by now?” He leaned closer, giving me that hard stare I knew he reserved for people who pushed too far.

I twisted my lips, forcing myself to think back. Graduation. Undergrad. Grad school. The scholarships. The recommendations.

“I went to his alma mater,” I said finally, my tone a little too defensive, the words coming out sharper than I intended.

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