Memphis stood and handed Boyd the bag. Conversation between Silas and Boyd was always clipped because Silas didn’t trust him, and never gave him a chance to use his words against him.
“How much is in the bag this time?” Boyd asked, attempting to start a conversation.
Silas handed him a folder. “Everything is there. You sign. I’ll deliver. Your seat on the board is secure, and your pension will remain untouched.”
“And the additional?—”
“You askin’ questions like you forgot who fixed yo’ life,” Silas cut in, voice smooth but sharp. “Don’t get curious now. Just finish the play.”
Memphis smirked behind him, arms folded like a soldier watching a chess match. He’d seen this show before.
Silas walked to the tinted window and looked out at the city lights. Cove City stretched before him in silence. Blake University lit up in the distance. He rested one palm against the cool glass, and watched the cars blink past like ants.She out there. Somewhere.He didn’t want to want her. Didn’t need the complication, but the way she looked at him made his soul lurch in his chest. And even though he’d learned how to bury everything years ago, he wasn’t sure he could bury her. He tapped his finger once against the glass.Stay out of the fire, pretty girl. This world don’t bend for softness.Yet, he couldn’t stop thinking about her.
The beat dropped before they even hit the gym floor. Bass vibrating through the soles of theirRetros, lights bouncing off the silver lettering stretched across their chests like armor.VETA XI-VXin bold font, commanding respect before a single step was taken. Nuri and Bre stood shoulder to shoulder at the front of the formation—red distressed shorts hugging curves with no shame, black tees cropped just enough to tease, and their updos sculpted to perfection. Long side bangs framed their faces like exclamation points, edges laid like velvet.
The crowd roared when they entered. The sisters moved in sync—every stomp, every slide, every snap a declaration. This wasn’t just stroll culture. This was sorority royalty. Nuri’s face stayed composed, eyes shaded with gold shimmer, lashesfluttering as the cameras flashed. Her fingers stayed tight in formation, but her energy… All fire. She felt the power of her line behind her. She felt the room folding to their rhythm. They glided into their signature step, the one that hit with a slow build, then exploded into motion.
“V-E-T-A! Never fold, never fade!”
“We the name they whisper, but the sound don’t fade!”
The crowd ate it up, and by the time they hit their final pose—lined up in a V-formation, heads turned, fingers forming the Veta sign—the whole gym felt it.
“Who’s That Line Comin’ Through With Heat?!” Nuri’s voice cracked across the gym like a whip.
“VETA XI-VX, Never Miss A Beat!” her sisters shouted in response, loud enough to shake bleachers.
Bre dipped low with a slow hip roll before popping back into formation.
“Crown On Tilt But Our Heads Stay High—Crimson, Black, And Gold ‘Til We Die!”
Every move had intention. Every glide, every shoulder roll, every dip into formation was built for impact. The floor vibrated beneath them, but their presence made the whole room still.
“Stroll So Smooth, Watch Your Boo Look Twice—” Nuri snapped as she slid through the line with precision.
“But He Couldn’t Handle A VETA If He Rolled The Dice!”
The crowd reacted instantly—cheering, phones up, flashes popping. But the Vetas didn’t flinch.
“Say It Loud—We The Talk Of The Yard!” Bre smirked as her gold hoops swung with every step.
“We Stunt So Pretty, But We Step So Hard!” Nuri pointed directly into the crowd, eyes sharp, voice cold. Recognize Greatness When You See Us Pass—We Don’t Need Permission—We Been That Class!”
The gym erupted, but the Vetas weren’t done yet. They paused at the center of the court, forming their signature V-formation, and dropped into a chant so low and tight it felt like a warning.
“VETA, VETA, Hold That Line! XI To The VX, Cross That Time! Still That Girl. Still That Sign. Once You VETA—You Never Rewind.”
The gym fell silent for a second too long… then exploded in screams, applause, and camera flashes. Nuri and Bre stood frozen in the front, throwing up their hand signs like royalty.
Afterward, they moved through the space like queens off duty. Taking pictures with potential recruits, smiling in group selfies with faculty, and reposting clips tagged under #VetaVision. Their presence was felt on and offline, and that was the goal—visibility with intention. They gave away merch near the bleachers: crimson keychains with tiny gold crowns, black t-shirts with"Once Veta… Forever Veta!"on the back, reusable water bottles, and silicone wristbands stamped with XI-VX.
Nuri paused for a moment, adjusting her bang in her compact mirror. Bre stood beside her, grinning like she was already halfway to viral.
“That step? We murdered that,” Bre said, fanning herself with a folded flyer.
“Nah, we buried ‘em,” Nuri corrected, lips slick with clear gloss. “They still gasping.”
They both laughed, but it was snatched right out the air the moment the gym lights shifted and another chant cut through the noise like a blade, the beat from O.T. Genasis’CoCopulsed thumped through the speakers.
