PROLOGUE
JACKIE
Syxe and Montana’s Wedding Reception August 2024
The transformation was finally complete. What used to be a cozy coffee shop in the heart of South Philly was now something straight out of a Black fairytale. The space glowed both literally and figuratively. Vines hung from the rafters, candlelight flickered softly, as amber up lighting warmed the room. String bulbs twinkled above blooms and floating books as poetry lined the walls, and love quotes from famous black cinema floated across mirror panels. The space was soft,intentional, and damn nearperfect. And it was all thanks to her.Jackie. She made it all happen with just a janky-ass crew of drunk uncles, two papi homies, and one messy ass cousin. Syxe gave her full creative control, and Jackie didn’t play about execution. She completely brought her vision to life. Every inch of the space screamed literature, romance, and Black elegance. And now, finally, she could take a sip of wine and soak it all in. That’s Until she spotted her messy asscousin. Kormia was over by the refreshment table, building the biggest to-go plate Jackie had ever seen. “Your ass was supposed to been had left.” Jackie said narrowing her eyes. Kormia didn’t even flinch. She was too busy stuffing a meatball in her mouth.
“Now Jackie, who being messy now? Besides Syxe and I are in a better place,” she said, chewing. “That shit with Nia? Water under the bridge. She even let me do her nails for the big day!”
Kormia said proudly. “Well, I wouldn’t have.”
“That shit you pulled was messy, and I’ll never tell you anything else again.”
“Geez-Luh-fucking-weez,”
Kormia huffed dramatically, licking sauce off her thumb like it was personal.
“A bitch said sorry! Not to mention Syxe beat Nia’s ass, so technically how messy was I really?”
“Messy as fuck,” Jackie responded before rolling her eyes and changing the subject. Jackie hadn’t heard Nia’s name in over a year. Not since the chaos. Not since Nia got locked up for smacking Neveah upside the head with a bottle of Ace of Spades like they were on Zeus Network.
“Where she at anyway?”
“Chile… on house arrest. She gotta do like nine months. It was either that or prison. And she can’t be on social media at all. One of the stipulations.” Jackie smirked. “Good.”
Her eyes drifted back to the room, catching on the soft laughter coming from the front of the shop where Syxe, Montana, and the kids were posing for pictures. Syxe looked radiant in that off-white gown, glowing, eyes full of peace and love—finally. Jackie felt her chest pull tight, but she didn’t let it show. She was happy for her friend. Grateful, even. But damn if a part of her didn’t long for that kind of love too. That,somebody-take-this-picture- before- I- cry love.She didn’t think she’d ever get it, not after everything that went down with her late fiancé, Maximilian. Jackie’s second chance at love had slipped through her fingers before she even realized she was holding it. She had made peace with that. Or at least, she thought she had. That’s when she saw him, across the room, dressed clean—face unreadable as ever.Cash.Her heart thudded once, then again. Sharper and more traitorous by the second. But it wasn’t just him. It was who he was standing next to.
The woman was exquisite, one of those quiet types who didn’t have to be loud to take up space.The champagne satin dress clung to her like it was painted on, catching the light in a way that felt intentional. Her hair was laid, and her skin was rich and smooth like melted mocha. She had the kind of poise that made you straighten your posture without realizing it. And Jackie? She felt the sting of that comparison deep in her chest, and it didn’t help that Cash looked good as hell standing next to her. Jackie forced herself to look away, sip her wine, and focus on the ambiance she created. That’s until, Kormia came sliding up beside her, chewing her gum like she had no damn home training. “It’s Syxe having the baby-shower meatballs at the wedding for me,” Kormia muttered, popping another one in her mouth. Jackie barely blinked. “Your ass still here?” Kormia smirked and followed Jackie’s line of sight across the room. When her eyes landed on Cash, and moreimportantly, the woman beside him. Kormia’s lips curved like she had just been handed a cup of hot tea with no lid. “Oh. You peeped Miss Mommas too? If I am not mistaken, her name is Zambia Abdul-Muhammad. Or@ZambiNYCon socials,” Kormia said, like she was announcing the weather. “She’s basically Philly Muslim royalty. She been in NYC the last five years finishing graduate school and doing the influencer thing.” She paused, then dropped her voice to a dramatic whisper. “And dating rich old white men, but you ain’t heard that from me. All her content isaestheticand soft-life vibes.” Jackie gave a dry little smirk as Kormia ran down the girl’s entire digital résumé like she was reading off a cue card.
“I’m not gon’ lie though, Jack—Zambiabeenthat bitch. Even before socials. Homegirl,beengettingflewedout by the biggest brands, doing campaigns, and being theface.” Kormia said, waving her hand like it was common knowledge. “However, allthat influencer shit came to a halt this summer. According to the TikTok streets? Miss Thang was called home.”
“Time to fulfill her womanly duty and go marry Mr. Good Bar over there.” Kormia nodded toward Cash with a wink. “Supposedly they’re in an ole nasty pre-arranged marriage situation. But—”
“Let me guess,” Jackie cut in. “I haven’t heard this from you.”
“And didn’t,” Kormia said, nodding hard.
Jackie tried not to sip all the tea her cousin was pouring, but it was hard. Kormia’s tea wasusuallyaccurate. But there had been plenty of times when her “tea” turned out to bepiss, and low-key Jackie was praying this was one of those times. Jackie tried to push the thought out of her mind and give Cash the benefit of the doubt. Still, she couldn’t ignore the sick feeling curling in her stomach. The idea of Cash possibly getting married shouldn’t have hit her the way it did. It was heavy in a way she hadn’t expected, and she hated it. Over the last year, Jackie had thought about Cassius more times than she liked to admit. The amount of space he still occupied in her heart and head often gave her pause. Especially since Jackie Brown didn’t dwell on anything—let alone niggas. But here she was,dwelling.
For God’s sake, he’s a little-ass boy. Jackie kept trying to tell herself. He was barely twenty-nine, and she would be thirty-six this year. On top of that, she was a single mother of two, with a past that wasn’t pretty, a crazy-ass baby daddy who was now in the wind. Jackie didn’t have any businessevenentertaining the thought of Cassius. But as usual, her heart and head were on quite different accords. She exhaled through her nose, trying her best not to fold by glancing in Cassius’s direction again. But she couldn’t help it. And though she told herself she was over it, something about him still pulled at her. It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t messy. But itwasthere. That quiet, aching reminder of everything that could be, butneverwas.
CASSIUS “CASH” AMIN-RASHID
Cash hadn’t seen Jackie since that night.
The night Montana went ghost, taking Syxe and the kids off the grid, and the truth about Marcus finally came to light. He remembered driving through North Philly, tucked behind the tinted glass of one of his unmarked cars, still buzzing with a kind of rage that hadn’t settled yet.
He didn’t know exactly what he needed. Maybe to warn her. Maybe to get her out too. Or maybe… just to see her again. But what hesaw, or rather who he saw—wasMarcus.On her step, in her face,touchingher, running his hand through her hair like he had a right to. Jackie stood beside her teenage son, who had his arm wrapped protectively around her waist. But she didn’t lookscared. She didn’t even lookuncomfortable. From where Cash sat in the dark, she looked…welcoming. Soft to soft. Almost like she wanted him there. Cash’s grip tightened around the wheel until the leather creaked beneath his palm. His finger hovered near the trigger he always kept within reach, and for a second, the shit would’ve been easy. Marcus gone, just like that. But Jackie and her son were right there, and Cash didn’t harm women or children. So he let itride. Told himself he’d handle Marcus later.Quietlyandindefinitely.Still, the image burned in his memory. Jackie,his Jackie—letting that married snake touch her like she belonged to him. After everything Marcus had done. After all the ways he had tried to humiliate her.But maybe he had read the situation wrong, and she wasn’t the victim. Maybe she did belong to Marcus after all.Cash exhaled through his nose and forced the thought away, grounding himself back in the present as he glanced aroundOn Bended Bean. The space hadbeen transformed into something out of a Black fairytale. Word was Jackiedoneit all, from the floating florals to the cascading books and poetry-lined walls. Montana said she pulled it off with a crew of crackheads and a damnvision board. Cash believed it, everything about the space felt likeher.
The design had been intentional, thoughtful, and beautiful in a way that was effortless, just like Jackie. “She did all this?” Zambia’s voice cut in beside him as she lifted her flute to her lips. It wasn’t curiosity. It was ashotand Cash caught itimmediately. Soft on the surface but aimed all the same. Rather thanacknowledgeit Cash nodded once barely looking at her. Zambia Abdul-Muhammad wasfine-shitpersonified. She was beautiful, educated, and exactly the kind of woman his parents approved of. But Cash wasn’tfooled. Zambia wasn’t here for love, justobligationand whatever was left of her trust fund. That, and Syxe invited her. They both worked at his parents’ school, Syxe as the new Director of Specialized Education, and Zambia as a second-grade teacher who,ironically, hated children.
Zambiahatedthe job,hatedthe city, andhatedbeing surrounded by what she once described as“dirty-ass kids with sticky-ass fingersand no home training.” She missed New York. Missed her influencer friends, her sugar daddies, her curated version of chaos. But here she was, back homePerformingas usual. Zambia always left a bad taste in Cash’s mouth. He never knew what was real with her. “Well, whoeverreallydid this decor,” she continued, scanning the room, “I need their info. For the wedding.” It was right then, a chill crept up Cash’s spine. “So that’s why you back in the city?”
“Of course,” she said, smiling like it meant nothing. “What else but duty would bring me back to this hope-sucking place?” Cash was about to respond when he felt a small tug at his pants. He looked down to find Maximus“Fat Daddy”Brown staring up at him.
“Mr. Cash, why you at my auntie wedding and not at work?” the boy asked, squinting like he was piecing together a case. Cash lifted a brow. “Is that how you greet me, Max?” Fat Daddy stepped back, regrouping, then straightened himself with effort. “As-Salaam-Alaikum.”
“Wa Alaikum Salaam,” Cash replied, a hint of warmth slipping into his voice.