What happened between us can’t happen again.
It replayed on a loop. A whisper she couldn’t silence. Nuri took a hot bath, hoping the water would do what time hadn’t. Hoping she could rinse him off her skin. But even when she lay still, surrounded by steam and lavender, she didn’t feel cleansed. Her body was still very much under Silas’ hypnosis.
Suddenly, her phone buzzed loud against the nightstand. “Hello?” Nuri answered, voice heavy with sleep.
“Where you at, chica?” Bre’s voice rang out on the other end, full of life. “It’s not like you to miss class.”
“I know. I just didn’t sleep well last night.”
“Mmm. I just saw your funky ass father,” Bre said. “You want me to beat his ass one good time for you?”
Nuri smiled, but there was no real joy behind it. “Man, fuck him. For real.”
The words came out before she could soften them. Her mind flashed back to his voice—“She’s disposable.”
Her stomach twisted again.
“Alright, well listen… I got a couple more classes. I’ll call you when I’m done, then you can vent. I got you.”
“Okay, boo. Thanks for checking on me.”
“Always. You know I gotcha.”
When the call ended, Nuri dropped her phone on the bed beside her. She hated lying to her best friend, but until she knew for sure what the hell was going on, there really wasn't much to share. One thing she refused to do was expose herself or Silas, but she refused to move forward without the answers she needed to give her peace. She'd use the day to gather herself, and get her emotions under control. Tomorrow would be a different story. Nuri got up and decided to listen to her newest playlist starting with Mariah the Scientists' new song Burning Blueas she cleaned her house from top to bottom.
She took another shower, made a salad, sat on the couch, and for the first time all day—she breathed. Until her phone vibrated. When she looked down she realized that she had one new text from an unknown caller.
I bet your father don’t know you be out here hoein’ and running the professors at Blake U. I wonder what would happen if he got a hold of this footage.
She tapped the image attached. It was her. Blurry but clear enough. Then she played the video of her and Silas leaving Club Vyce. Silas pulled her close, and Nuri smiled up at him. His lips pressed to her temple like he was claiming her. Then the video. Short. Silent. But loud as hell. They looked too comfortable. Too real. Too intimate.
They looked happy, like they were a real couple. They looked like leverage. She didn’t even make it to the end of the clip before her stomach flipped. She dropped her phone and rushed to the bathroom, barely making it in time. The salad traveled back up her throat. Tears fell before she even realized they were coming. Somebody knew. Somebody had proof and was planning to use it.
Silas stood in the window of his office, backlit by the skyline of a city he owned in silence. Everything looked good from the outside. It always did. Polished buildings. Clean streets. Peace on the surface, but Silas knew the truth. The devil did his best work in disguise. His eyes were heavy, bloodshot from sleepless nights. The weight he carried wasn’t from books or lectures—it was from secrets. From the life he lived in the shadows. However, right now, shit wasn’t feeling right because someonewas fucking with his peace. Nuri had walked into his world and shook his heart and mind in a way no one had ever done before. Silas had been waiting a long time for such an experience, and now that it had happened; he was willing to risk it all for her.
She used to look at him like he was the safest place in the world. Now? She wouldn’t even meet his gaze. Not in class. Not in passing. Not even by mistake. She used to sit close. So close he could smell her perfume and feel her eyes burning holes through his logic when she disagreed with his lectures. Now she sat in the back.
Guarded.
Unreachable.
Cold.
That shit ate at him in the worst way. He didn’t walk away because he didn’t want her. He walked away because he did. Wanting her meant exposing her to everything that came with being tied to a man like him—a man who had more layers than she was privy to.
The door opened without a knock. Only a few people moved like that around Silas—Dro and Memphis.
“What up, Silas?” Dro said, stepping in like he ran shit. That was the thing though—every man in that room ran some shit.
“Dro,” Silas smirked. “It’s been a minute, fam. Life good?”
“Nigga, I only accept excellence. Life stay good.”
Silas grabbed the cognac off his sidebar, poured up, and passed around cigars without missing a beat.
“Cool. Let’s get to it. Tell me what the fuck Boyd on—he been movin’ funny lately, and him and that nigga Tree been gettin’ real fuckin’ close.”
Memphis sat back, eyes locked in.
