CHAPTER ONE
JACKIE brOWN
Syxe and Montana’s Wedding Reception Continued…
Jackie hadn’t even made it to the dessert table before she spotted him.
Cassius. He stood out without trying, wearing a tailored all-black Tom Ford tuxedo that fit his frame like it was made with him in mind.
His jewelry was understated, but his diamonds still danced—especially when the light hit them.
His cologne hit her first, Le Labo.
The scent was a beautiful combination of familiarity and danger.
And goddamn if it didn’t make her melt a little. But it wasn’t just him.
It was Max—her Max. Standing beside him, tugging at the leg of his slacks like they’d been cool for years.
Jackie’s steps picked up without her realizing it, her heels clicking sharper against the floor as she made her way over, already assuming Fat Daddy was bothering him.
“Is he bothering you?” she asked, smoothing a hand over Max’s shoulder.
“Never,” Cash responded. Just as her eyes met his for the first time in over two years.
His voice hadn’t changed, it was still cool and steady like she remembered.
But something about him had. There was a distance in it now.
A restraint that hadn’t been there before.
Jackie opened her mouth to say something else, but Max beat her to it.
“Mommy, Coach Cash said I could join the Pop Warner team if I stop actin’ up,” he said, wide-eyed, laying it on thick like he always did when he was working an angle.
Jackie shot him a look. “We will talk about it later. Go find Micah and Imani.” Max didn’t argue.
He took off like he’d already won. And just like that…
It was just her and Cash. They hadn’t stood this close since before everything went to hell.
It started with the foiled kidnapping plot.
Then Syxe and the kids disappeared off the grid.
Next thing Jackie knew Marcus’s people started dropping left and right.
Some ended up dead, others caught cases—and Marcus himself vanished with Nefertiti, their kids and Marcus Jr.—Jackies oldest son.
Jackie hadn’t seen Marcus Jr. in person, in over two years.
The only contact Marcus allowed was monitored FaceTime Audio calls that left her feeling helpless.
She knew Fat-daddy missed his big brother too, and deep down she suspected that was the real reason behind his misbehavior in school.
But there wasn’t much she could do, Marcus always made sure of that.
The last time she saw Marcus Jr., Marcus had shown up at her house uninvited and stayed for hours.
He hovered too close, intentionally crowding her space to make her uncomfortable.
Jackie had swallowed the discomfort just to spend a few hours with her son.
Now, standing in front of Cash, all those months melted into a second.
He still looked good. Too fucking good. His skin caught the light in a way that made it hard not to stare, his braids were neat, laid into straight-back cornrows.
But the way he looked at her, like he was holding something back.
That part stung. “How have you been?” she asked, trying to sound casual even as her nerves started to flutter.
His eyes didn’t leave hers. “Good. You?”
“I’ve been cool. I guess.” She glanced away for a second, then back.
“I never got the chance to thank you… for what you did at Max’s birthday. Security. The whole setup. You didn’t have to go that hard, but you did.”
“Wasn’t necessary,” he replied flatly. That hurt more than she expected.
This wasn’t the man who held her hand at Max’s party.
Who wrapped her in his arms when she cried over Syxe.
This Cash? Felt cold and detached. Like he’d done the math, and she didn’t add up anymore.
“Still. Thank you,” she said anyway. He gave a small nod, jaw ticking like he was trying to keep his mouth shut.
But his eyes? They slipped. Traveled down the length of her fitted dress, slow and reluctant, before snapping back to her face.
He still wanted her. That part hadn’t changed.
And then right on cue— “Baaaabe,” a voice crooned, sugary sweet and sharp enough to cut glass.
“You disappeared on me.” Jackie turned, and there she was. Zambia.
Zambia glided into the room like it owed her something.
The champagne silk dress clung to her like it had been painted on, her golden skin glowed under the softness of the light.
Everything about her was flawless, her hair was laid, and her makeup was so perfect, the shit almost looked airbrushed.
She had the presence of someone who knew every eye would follow her and had been raised to expect nothing less.
Jackie stood still, watching the way Zambia slid her arm through Cash’s like she’d been doing it for years.
“You must be Jackie,” Zambia said, feigning polite confusion.
“The event planner, right? Now refresh my memory, you’re Syxe’s aunt or—? ”
“I’m her best friend,” Jackie replied, just as evenly. Zambia’s smile widened slightly.
“Ah. Got it. I am Zambia, but my friends call me Zambi. You might know me from TikTok.”
“I doubt it.” Jackie deadpanned. Zambia’s gaze dipped, quick and deliberate, taking Jackie in from head to toe before lifting again. “Weird,” she said lightly.
“A lot of women your age love my content.”
Jackie held her stare. I know this little bitch ain’t sizing me up.
But before she could respond, a new energy shifted into the space.
It was stern, controlled and authoritative.
Sister Malika. Cash’s mother. Syxe’s boss.
And the principal at Max’s school. Jackie straightened her spine immediately.
Jackie had been dodging Sister Malika’s calls for weeks, especially after she suggested Max talk to a psychiatrist. Jackie wasn’t ready for that conversation.
At least not yet. “Oh look,” Zambia cooed, “there’s my mother-in-love. ”
Jackie’s eyes flicked to Cash before she could stop herself.
“Wait… you two are married?”
“Not yet. Just engaged,” Zambia said, lifting her hand just enough for the diamond to catch the light. Sister Malika approached, greeting them traditionally, before turning her attention to Jackie.
“It’s good to see you, Ms. Brown. I was told you were the mastermind behind this event.
You did an excellent job.” Jackie forced a small smile.
“Make sure I get a business card before you leave. I may need your services for Cassius and Zambia’s upcoming nuptials.
” Something in Jackie’s chest caved in, causing a quiet collapse that nobody could see, but she could most certainly feel.
“And about Max,” Sister Malika continued, “we need to schedule a meeting. I’ll be moving him to Zambia’s class next week, it’s a much smaller class size, and he can receive more tailored attention.
” Jackie nodded, even though her heart felt like it was being ripped out her chest. This was too much…
. And the fuck she meant they were engaged.
Jackie swallowed it all down, making sure that none of what she felt, touched her face.
“Monday good for you?”
“Yes,” Jackie said softly.
“Perfect. You’ll meet with our interim guidance counselor and Psychiatrist, Dr. Nigel. I’ve already given him your information, so he may have reached out. “Of course,” Jackie said, even though she barely heard herself. Cash shifted beside her. Close enough to notice.
“I think Syxe’s calling you,” he said quietly, reaching for her hand—just enough to ground her.
Jackie took the out. She made it halfway down the hall before the burn behind her eyes sharpened into something she couldn’t ignore.
Not here. Not now. She thought as she ducked into the bathroom, locking herself in the farthest stall, hands braced against her thighs as she forced herself to breathe.
In. Out. In. Out. “You got this,” she whispered.
Not in this dress and Not over no fucking man.
But it wasn’t just the man. It was the reminder that he wasn’t hers and never was.
It was the tight smile on Sister Malika’s face.
The casual way she’d handed Jackie a new fate for Max.
It was Zambia’s diamond and her smug little grin and that petty “your age” shit.
It was everything and it was all too much.
The door creaked open, just as heels clicked across the tile. Then a pause.
“Jackie.” Kormia’s voice called. Jackie didn’t answer. Then Syxe called softer this time
“It’s just us.” Jackie cracked the stall, just a little.
Enough to see both of them posted up in front of the sinks.
Syxe’s eyes were soft, already brimming.
Kormia’s weren’t. Hers were tense, like she was ready to go back out there and flip a table.
Jackie stepped out and closed the stall behind her.
The silence stretched for a second. Then, “Jackie, what’s up? You good?” Kormia asked, arms folded.
Jackie shook her head. “It’s fine.”
“No, the fuck it’s not,” Kormia snapped.
“What that lil’ bitch say? She look like she was popping it.”
“No, Kormia,” Syxe said gently, touching Jackie’s shoulder.
“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.” Jackie looked between them…
and finally let it drop. “He’s marrying her.
” The words barely made it out. She leaned against the sink and finally looked at herself.
Really looked. Her eyes were puffy from crying, and her lips wouldn’t stop trembling.
“I shouldn’t care,” she said quietly. “That’s the part that’s killin’ me.
I got too much real shit goin’ on to be pressed over some man who was never mine. ”
Syxe squeezed her hand. “Jackie…”
“But I do,” she admitted, sharper now. “And I feel dumb as hell for it.”
“You’re not dumb,” Syxe said. “You’re human.
You’ve been carrying a lot—Marcus, your son, the wedding, school…
all of it. The shit gets heavy Jack.” Tears slipped before she could stop them.
Jackie wanted to break, fold into herself, and let it all out.
But she couldn’t. She still had responsibilities.
A crew to manage. A space to break down and a car that might not even start later.
More importantly Max also needed her, therefore she didn’t have the luxury of falling apart. “Say the word,” Kormia muttered, stepping closer. “And, I’ll drag that bitch.” That pulled a small smile out of her. Tired. But real. “I just want a win,” Jackie said.
“Something… anything… that don’t cost me everything I got left.”
“You gon’ get that,” Syxe whispered. “Maybe not today and maybe not from him. But you gon’ get it.” Jackie looked at herself one more time. The dress, the face, and the exhaustion behind it. She did not feel like a woman who won or who was even capable of winning. But she knew how to survive.
“I’ll be okay,” she said. “I promise.” She fixed her makeup, lifted her chin, and walked back out— heart heavy, but head high. A feeling she knew all too well.