“You’re right,” she said, reachin’ for my hand like it was her way of showin’ she could reset.
We started walkin’ again, but she was different now. We passed the open lawn where the fire pit sat cold and unlit, the grass smellin’ fresh from the sprinklers earlier. Chanel wasn’t pointin’ out her outfit or namin’ women she didn’t like no more. She wasn’t talkin’ over me or tryin’ to fill every bit of silence. She was just here, matchin’ my stride, and lettin’ me finish the blunt while we moved through the far garden and back toward the main patio.
When we reached the back steps, she glanced up at the glowin’ windows of the mansion, then back at me. The confidence was still there, but it was toned down now, smoothedover like she was remindin’ herself she didn’t always have to be on stage.
By the time we stepped back inside, she turned to face me, her hand still holdin’ mine. Without sayin’ much else, she leaned in and kissed me on the lips soft and quick, like she didn’t want to risk pushin’ it too far.
“Thank you for the time,” she said, her tone calm now, almost respectful, before she walked off toward the stairs.
I stood there for a second watchin’ her go, then turned down the hall toward the elevator. My body was ready for a shower, and my head ready for some quiet.
These women had a nigga needin’ some space and a hard ass reset.
As the days went on, I spent time with who I could. The mansion was still full, but the number of women left was shrinkin’, and the ones who was still here knew the competition was gettin’ tighter. Every interaction meant somethin’ now, even if it was just an afternoon conversation or a late-night laugh.
Toni Roc had become a regular part of my days without me even realizin’ it. She was my homie, my workout partner, and a woman I could kick back and chill with all in one. Every mornin’ she was there with my breakfast, servin’ a nigga eggs, turkey bacon and fresh fruit plated like it came straight out of a chef’s kitchen. She’d stand by the counter with that sly grin, waitin’ for me to take the first bite before askin’, “It’s hittin’, right?” And it always was. By noon, she was in the gym with me, keepin’ up rep for rep, talkin’ shit between sets, and pushin’ me harder than my cousins sometimes did. “You gon’ let me outlift you?” she’d tease, rackin’ weights like she wasn’t sore. When we wasn’tworkin’ out, we’d be on the balcony sippin’ somethin’ cold, jokin’ about the chaos in the house, or talkin’ about other shit. She didn’t try to be perfect, and she didn’t hold back when she had somethin’ to say. That was why I liked her. She was real, through and through. Yep, she was my lil’ ghetto bae.
Still, not everybody had that same effect on me. Soriya was one of the first to go durin’ this stretch. She was fine, no doubt about it. Baby girl had a body that could stop traffic, but every time we talked it was surface-level, like she was holdin’ back or just here for the lights and luxury. She laughed at everything I said but never gave me much of herself. I didn’t have the patience for that. This wasn’t about who could smile the prettiest in pictures—it was about who could stand next to me in real life. So, durin’ the elimination process, I told her straight up, “You cool, but I don’t see this goin’ anywhere.” She nodded, tried to play it like she didn’t care, but I could see it in her eyes. She packed her things and was gone before dinner.
Zaniyah and I had hit the town again, and she was still the same livewire she’d been the first night we went out. We blew money like it was going out of style. We bought bottles, food and clothes she didn’t even try on before buyin’, and we laughed the whole way through. “You got a problem,” I told her as she handed the cashier my card without even lookin’ at the total. “And you enabling me,” she shot back, slippin’ her shades on like she was in a movie. But she wasn’t just fun in the streets. Back at the mansion, she’d become my main chess opponent, teachin’ me strategies I didn’t even know existed. She leaned over the board one night and said, “You move too fast. That’s your problem. You gotta think three moves ahead.” She talked about patience, about settin’ up your moves so far ahead that your opponent didn’t see it comin’ until it was too late. “Chess is like life,” she said. “You can win fast, but the real victories are the ones you build for.” I liked that about her.
Even so, I had to make cuts. Jayla was next. Imani had overheard her on the phone one night, talkin’ low about how she missed her child and couldn’t wait to see them again. I didn’t have a problem with women who had kids, but it wasn’t gon’ be part of my legacy. I had clearly stated from the jump that I ain’t wanna marry a woman with kids because I wanted to start my family from scratch. What pissed me off was how ol’ girl knew that and still hid the shit from me. I guess she thought she could just pin her kid on me if she got chose. Hell nah. When I confronted her in the lounge, she looked like she’d been caught stealin’. “I didn’t know how you’d take it,” she said, her eyes droppin’ to the floor. “I would’ve told you… I just didn’t want it to be the reason you sent me home.” By then, it was too late. I sent her ass packin’ the next mornin’.
Imani, on the other hand, was still here. She came on strong—too damn strong sometimes, but she turned into my eyes and ears in the house. She noticed shit, paid attention to people, and wasn’t afraid to bring it to me. She’d drop little comments like, “Watch how so-and-so switches up when you walk in the room,” and she was usually right. That alone kept her in longer than I originally planned.
Chanel had surprised me. The arrogance she walked in with had started to peel back, and underneath it was a woman I could actually hold a conversation with. When I found out she liked horses, I took her ridin’ at a ranch on the edge of the city. She showed up in all black, hair pulled back, looking more at home on that saddle than I expected. For hours, we rode the trails, talked about shit that had nothin’ to do with the mansion or the competition, and she smiled more than I’d ever seen her smile before. “You’re not as scary as people think,” she told me, grinnin’ like she was testin’ me. I just smirked and kept ridin’.
Khari Bell didn’t make it past this stretch either. She was sweet, but it always felt like she was agreein’ with me just to keepthe peace. “Yeah, you right” was her go-to for everything, and it started to get under my dam skin. I needed somebody with their own mind, somebody who can push back when I’m wrong. If I wanted “yes” all the time, I’d talk to a fuckin’ mirror.
Lola and I had been kickin’ it more too. She was playful in her own way, and I liked our back-and-forth. We’d sit out by the fire pit, talkin’ about random shit like her favorite cities, the time she almost drowned as a kid and how goin’ to church saved her life. But she stayed distant sometimes, zonin’ out mid-conversation or disappearin’ for hours. It made me curious, like she was holdin’ on to somethin’ she wasn’t ready to share. That mystery was part of what kept me callin’ her back.
Renae and I had a steady, easy vibe. She wasn’t loud, and she wasn’t over the top. She was just consistent. She’d check in, ask about my day, and really listen. She had this way of lookin’ me in the eye when I talked, like she was tryin’ to catch every word.
Nyah, though… she just didn’t bring much to the table. Like all of ‘em, she had a pretty face, great body, but every conversation felt like pullin’ teeth. After a while, I stopped tryin’ to force it. Durin’ elimination, I laid the truth on her and told her it wasn’t working. She nodded, smiled politely, and walked away like she’d already expected it.
Then there was Pluto. The more time I spent with her, the more I wanted to be around her. She opened up about her little sister and the shit she’d been through, and I respected how she’d stepped into that role like a second mother without complainin’. For some reason, she had me feelin’ like she would be a good mother to our kids if we ever had them. She had this quiet strength that drew me in without tryin’. We would sit on the balcony late at night, her legs pulled up in the chair, tellin’ me about the books she read to Zurie, how she made her favorite pancakes every Saturday, how she worried about her future more than her own. At first, her being a virgin felt likea complication, but now I saw it differently. If I picked her, I would be her first, and that mattered in a way I hadn’t expected. I was gettin’ selfish with her heart, even if I didn’t say it out loud. She was the calm to my storm, and I ain’t want nobody else touchin’ what I was startin’ to think might be mine.
And Kashmere… she was the one I had a hard time admitting I had already fallen for. She got me in ways nobody else did. She challenged me and wasn’t intimidated by me. She knew how to make a nigga laugh without tryin’ and give me space when everyone else was crowdin’ me. While the other women was flockin’ for my attention, she’d be in the corner playin’ cards with one of the guards or curled up on the couch readin’ somethin’ with her headphones on. But when we linked up privately, it was like the rest of the mansion didn’t exist. We’d talk for hours or say nothin’ at all, and it still felt like we had been together all day. She had that blend of humor, sass, and depth that made me want more, and she was an amazing ass lover. She didn’t just know what I liked but knew how to pull more out of me than I’d planned to give. She fucked me so good, I found myself cravin’ her every night. She had a nigga arguin’ with her over dumb shit and followin’ her around the mansion on some territorial shit. That was the problem. I had lowkey fallen in love with her in three weeks, and the only way I knew to keep my head clear was to pull back from her sometimes, even if it killed me to do it.
By the end of it, I’d cut Soriyah, Jayla, Khari, Nyah, and Savannah, leavin’ me with the ones who could actually stand in my world without breaking. Every woman still here had her own lane, her own way of challenging me, and I could feel the change in myself whether I wanted to admit it or not. I was still in control, still callin’ the shots, but these women… they was startin’ to leave their mark on a nigga.
Trill-Land, Jungle Estate
Today was my mama’s birthday and I wasn’t lettin’ the day slide without makin’ it special for her. I was posted in the foyer, the women lined up in front of me—Lola, Imani, Zaniyah, Chanel, Renae, Toni, Pluto, and Kashmere. They could feel somethin’ was comin’, and I wasn’t about to rush it.
I let my eyes travel down the line slow, meetin’ each gaze for a second before movin’ on. “Today’s a big day,” I started, keepin’ my voice even but lettin’ them hear the weight behind it. “It’s my mama’s birthday. I’m goin’ to see her, and I’m takin’ one of y’all with me. Whoever I take is gon’ meet the most important people in my life.”
That shifted the energy instantly. I could see it in the way a few of them straightened their shoulders and tried to keep theirexpressions cool. Meetin’ my mama wasn’t just a date— it was me openin’ a door I didn’t open for just anybody.
I scanned them again, lettin’ my gaze linger just enough to keep them guessin’. Lola gave me that mysterious smile she always did, like she knew somethin’ nobody else did. Imani had her arms crossed with her chin slightly lifted like she was darin’ me not to pick her. Zaniyah was already smilin’ but it had that nervous edge to it, like she was tryin’ to speak confidence into existence. Chanel stood there polished and ready, probably already imagining herself in whatever outfit she thought I’d approve of. Renae kept her eyes on me without flinchin’. Toni gave me that smirk like she was in on some private joke between us. Pluto’s hands were clasped in front of her, her posture neat but her eyes alive. And Kashmere… Kashmere was leanin’ back on one heel, watchin’ me with that unreadable expression she did so well, but I knew her enough to see the tension in it.
I took my time, lettin’ the silence stretch. They shifted under it, waitin’ for me to call a name. Finally, I said, “Pluto.”
Her eyes lit up instantly, that warm, genuine light that came from deep in her. She stepped forward before she caught herself, holdin’ back a smile that still showed through.
Behind her, I heard Imani let out a sharp sigh and mumble, “Why am I not surprised? That’s clearly his favorite.”
I didn’t even look her way. “Pluto, I got a stylist waitin’ on you down here,” I said, my focus locked on the woman I’d chosen. “Hair, makeup, everything. I want you lookin’ your best, because you about to meet my people.”
