“I dropped seven figures on the setup,” he added, like that was supposed to impress me. “So put on something decent and show up.”
I stayed quiet.
After a beat, I asked, “Where’s Aziel?”
He pulled out his phone, tapped a few times, then turned the screen toward me. A live feed. My brother, sitting cross-legged on the floor of a luxurious room, a teacher walking him through phonics. A soft-spoken nanny poured juice into a glass behind them.
“He’s fine,” Hakeem said. “Homeschooling starts today. He’s got everything he needs. Best tutors. Twenty-four-hour watch. No harm comes to him, long as you don’t give me a reason to change that.”
I nodded once. Silent.
He watched me for a long moment. Tried to read me, figure out where I’d gone behind my blank face.
But he couldn’t.
Because I wasn’t there anymore.
---
When I stepped onto the yacht that night, the entire deck was drenched in candlelight. Crystal flutes lined the table, each filled with champagne I didn’t ask for. White orchids twisted down the railings. Live violin music floated beneath the stars.
And in the distance—Masterson Bridge, glowing above us like the city itself was watching.