Page 66 of Certified Pressure 4
I turned to Kojo. He reached for my hand, brought it to his lips, and kissed it tenderly. That simple touch sent a rush through me. Not only was it a feeling of lust but of power, and unity. We had built an empire together, and now we were purging it of corruption. Watching him beside me in thismoment reminded me that we were still one force, and one heartbeat moving through all of this with purpose.
I looked back at Sterling and Silky. “Before this ends, I want to ask something of you,” I said. “Would you like to be buried together? I can honor that wish if you have a place in mind. Some people like to prepare for eternity while they still have breath.”
They stared at me, speechless.
“I’m being sincere,” I continued. “Where would you prefer to rest? A cemetery near your old home? Somewhere peaceful?”
Neither spoke. The silence went on until it felt suffocating.
“I’ll take that as indifference,” I said. “In that case, I’ll decide for you.”
Kojo gave a small nod to the guards, and they raised their guns. The moment felt suspended in time. Silky started to cry harder, mumbling something that sounded like a prayer. Sterling’s body shook as he tried to speak, but no words came out.
I looked at them both one last time. “I wish you well on your new journey,” I said. “Wherever it may lead.”
Kojo squeezed my hand again. There was something deeply intimate in that gesture, a shared satisfaction that words couldn’t touch. Together, we watched as the shots rang out, sharp and final. The sound echoed through the room and then faded.
I felt no remorse... only completion.
Kojo turned to me, brushed a strand of hair from my face, and whispered something low that only I could hear. I smiled, resting my hand on his chest before we walked out together, leaving the mess behind.
Outside, the night felt calm again. The stars were out, and shining down. Sterling and Silky had raised the woman whotried to destroy my family, and now that debt had been paid in full.
As my husband opened the door for me, I looked up at him and said softly, “The world will sleep peacefully now.”
He nodded once. “So will you.”
Eboni Keep in Nzuri Hall
Becoming Mrs. Mensah was a different type of feeling. I had never known this kind of peace before. Everything about it felt right, like my life was finally catching up to where my heart had been all along. I was sitting in front of a long mirror inside Abeni’s home, surrounded by dresses that looked like they belonged in a museum. The walls of her private fitting room were lined with racks of silk and lace, each gown glistening under the soft lights. Abeni had flown in designers from everywhere such as Vera Wang, Elie Saab, Zuhair Murad, and Galia Lahav. These were the types of gowns women dreamed about their whole lives. They were costumed, hand stitched, one-of-a-kind creations that cost more than most people’s homes.
Abeni sat gracefully on the sofa with her legs crossed and a cup of tea balanced on the small glass table beside her. Zurie was on the floor playing with one of Prestyn’s toys while my baby boy sat on Abeni’s lap, babbling and reaching for her necklace. Every time I looked at him, my heart melted. He was seven months now, chubby and full of personality, looking more and more like his father with each passing day. That deep brown skin, those sharp eyes, and even the little smirk he made when he was trying to charm his way into being picked up, he was all Pressure.
“Try this one next,” Abeni said softly, her tone warm but firm as she gestured toward a gown laid across the table. The fabric shimmered like water when I picked it up. It was strapless with intricate beadwork across the bodice and a silk train that pooled like melted cream behind it.
“Omá, you trying to make me faint,” I laughed, running my hand over the delicate detail.
She smiled, her eyes full of pride. “You’re marrying my son. You should look like the woman he fought for.”
That made me stop for a second. I had to swallow down the lump forming in my throat. Everything about this moment was surreal from the dresses, the mansion, the smell of tea and perfume in the air. Even the sound of my baby laughing in the background. I couldn’t believe this was my life.
Planning the wedding had been a whole experience. Pressure wanted to be involved in every detail from the invitations to the tasting menu to the flower arrangements. He was fully invested. He wanted to know what shade of gold the napkins were, what type of champagne would be served, and whether the DJ understood that the reception needed to feel like Trill-Land luxury and not some regular event. He even flew me to Milan to meet with the designer making my custom after party dress. Every time I got overwhelmed, he would just pull me close andtell me, “Don’t stress, baby. This our day. You just gotta look good and be happy.”
He had been so loving, so patient, so everything I needed. Even when I would be up late scrolling through Pinterest, changing my mind about flowers or seating charts, he would be right there behind me, rubbing my shoulders and saying, “Do whatever you want, Pluto. I’m with it.”
Abeni stood to hand me a pair of heels that matched the gown. “Let’s see how it looks with these,” she said. I slipped into them and turned toward the mirror. The dress fit perfectly, hugging my curves in all the right places.
“Beautiful,” Abeni said.
I smiled, but just as I was about to say thank you, a sudden wave of nausea rolled through me. I pressed my hand to my stomach, trying to keep my expression calm so she wouldn’t notice. My breasts had been sore for days, and I had been feeling lightheaded off and on, but I had blamed it on stress and all the running around for the wedding. Now, standing here staring at myself in this gown, it hit me that something was off.
Abeni tilted her head slightly. “Are you alright, dear?”
I forced a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just need a minute.”
She nodded and went back to entertaining the kids. I slipped out of the gown and into a soft silk robe that hung on the hook nearby, then grabbed my purse and walked toward the bathroom. My heart was racing.
Earlier that morning, before I even left home, I had stopped by the pharmacy. I told myself it was just in case, that I would wait until tonight to take the test. But now that feeling was sitting too heavy in my stomach, so I couldn’t wait. I locked the bathroom door and reached into my bag. The little box felt heavier than it should have.
