Chapter 25 Coco
TWENTY-FIVE
Coco
Garden District Mansions: Home to grand antebellum mansions with intricate gardens, the Garden District was originally developed for Americans who moved to New Orleans post-Louisiana Purchase.
The stale air in my father’s study is heavier tonight than usual.
It presses in, thick with things neither of us has ever said out loud, and the weight of decisions I can’t keep dodging.
The scent of leather and old books hangs in the room, familiar enough to steady me even as I prepare to fracture everything it represents.
My father sits behind his desk, his expression carefully neutral, but his posture betrays him. His fingers drum against the polished wood, slow and deliberate, like he’s waiting to see how badly I’m about to disappoint him.
I stop just inside the door, my hands clenched at my sides.
Light from the landscaping outside filters through the drawn curtains, casting long shadows across the floor.
They stretch toward me, accusatory, inescapable.
I draw in a breath, already knowing there’s no version of this conversation that ends gently.
“I’ve made my decision.”
He doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink. “And?”
“And I’m choosing Ridge,” I say. The words come out steady, even as my stomach knots. “You’re forcing me into this, and I hate you for that. But if you’re making me choose, it’s him.”
Silence settles between us, dense enough to lean against. Then he leans back in his chair and exhales through his nose.
“You’re throwing away your family for a man like him,” he says. “Do you even understand what you’re doing, Coco?”
“I understand exactly what I’m doing,” I snap, even though doubt flickers at the edges. “I’m standing up for myself. For once. And I love him, whether you understand it or not.”
He shakes his head slowly, a humorless sound escaping him. “Love. That’s what you think this is. You’ve known him for three weeks. Three. And in that time, he’s taken you, pulled you into his world, and ended two lives without hesitation. That’s the man you’re willing to sacrifice everything for?”
The words land hard. I flinch, but I stay where I am.
“You talk like you’re different,” I say. “Like you haven’t done the same things. Like you didn’t raise me inside this world. What kind of man did you think I would choose when this is the only reality I’ve ever been shown?”
His jaw tightens. For the first time, the control cracks.
“I wanted better for you,” he says, sharp now. “I wanted you to have a life beyond this mess. Instead, you chose a man who mirrors everything I tried to keep from you. From what I’ve seen, from all the evidence, he’s worse than me.”
“Maybe he isn’t better than you,” I shoot back, my voice unsteady but unyielding. “But he isn’t worse. And you don’t get to judge him like you’re some kind of moral authority.”
His hands slam down on the desk. The sound ricochets through the room, and my pulse spikes.
“Don’t speak to me that way.”
I draw a breath, forcing it to slow as my heartbeat thunders in my ears.
“You surrounded me with men like Ridge my entire life,” I say. “You taught me who holds power and who doesn’t. And now you’re angry that I fell in love with exactly what you raised me to understand. What do you think people see when they look at you? Or your sons?”
The words hang there, raw and exposed. For a moment, I think I’ve crossed a line that can’t be repaired.
He doesn’t shout. He doesn’t argue. He just looks at me, his face carefully blank.
“I didn’t think so,” I say quietly, the fight draining out of me. “I didn’t come here to debate you. And I didn’t come for your approval. I came to tell you my choice.”
He stands, the movement abrupt. His presence fills the room.
“If you walk out now,” he says, “don’t expect me to welcome you back when he breaks you.”
Heat stings behind my eyes, but I refuse to let it spill.
“You don’t know him,” I say, softer now. “You don’t even want to.”
“And you don’t understand what you’re risking.”
“Maybe not,” I say. “But it’s mine to risk.”
I turn before he can say anything else. The door shuts hard behind me, the sound echoing down the hall. I stand there for a moment, breathing through the surge of anger, fear, and something heavier that settles deep in my chest.
I’ve made my choice.
And as I walk out of the house that has been both refuge and cage, I know one truth won’t change, no matter what Laurent believes.
I will always be a Boudreaux.
Indigo Blue buzzes with life. The air carries the sharp tang of liquor and the low thrum of a bass line that vibrates through my chest, steady and relentless.
Iggy leans against the bar with casual entitlement, a sly grin tugging at his mouth as he nurses a brightly-colored cocktail and tries to catch the attention of a girl a few stools down.
Her outfit and the tight knot of friends around her mark Loyola undergrad.
Iggy watches like he belongs there, even though he never quite does.
Delphine sits beside me, composed as ever. Her gaze flicks between Iggy and me, sharp and assessing. She knows I met with my father earlier, but I asked her not to bring it up. Tonight is supposed to be about distraction. About staying upright.
“You’re looking good these days, Coco,” Iggy says, voice light, amused. “Guess love does wonders.”
I narrow my eyes, already bracing. “What do you want, Iggy? Shoo.”
He laughs, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. “Easy. I’m just pointing out something interesting. You’ve always been vocal about fentanyl. How it’s poison. How it ruins everything it touches.”
“Yeah, so? You thinking about trying it?”
His eyes flick to mine. “Nope. Just thought you might want to know, your man is tied to a shipment that’s drawing a lot of attention from people who watch these things. And word is it’s fentanyl.”
The words knock the air out of me. For a second, I just stare at him. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Iggy arches a brow, feigning surprise.
“You didn’t know? Two weeks out, which means it’s already halfway here. Straight from overseas, and Stone Intermodal controls the port of entry.” His mouth curves, sharp and satisfied. “Your boyfriend is about to make a killing, in every sense of the word.”
The room tilts. I grip the edge of the bar, the polished surface slick beneath my fingers. “You’re lying.”
“Am I?” Iggy leans in, the grin fading. “Come on, Coco. I don’t invent this kind of shit. I’m honestly shocked you didn’t hear. It’s been floating around the docks for a couple of days.”
My pulse spikes, but I don’t want Iggy to know how much this affects me.
“You’re saying a lot tonight,” I snap. “Why are you being such an asshole to me?”
He shrugs, all false innocence. “I’m not trying to be an asshole, I honestly was just surprised you were letting that fly. Ridge isn’t different, he’s just better dressed.”
“You don’t know anything about him.”
Something tightens in his expression. It’s barely there, but I notice. “That’s true. I don’t know him. But I know this business. And I know what people are saying.”
My fingers curl hard against the bar, pressure biting into my skin. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Leave me the fuck alone.”
For a moment, it looks like he might push back. Then he lifts his hands in mock surrender. “Alright. Forget it.”
His smirk returns as he turns back to his bright green drink. “Just don’t pretend you weren’t warned.”
I stand abruptly, the barstool nearly tipping over. My chest is tight, my throat raw as I fight to stay steady.
“Delphine,” I say, keeping my eyes off Iggy. “Let’s go.”
Her hand closes around my arm, grounding, sure. “Of course. Let’s get out of here.”
I turn before I’ve decided to, already moving toward the back. The noise of the bar dulls as Delphine steers me into a narrow alcove washed in low light. She turns to face me, concern etched across her features.
As soon as we’re alone, everything fractures. “This can’t be true,” I whisper. “Ridge wouldn’t. He couldn’t.”
Delphine’s hands settle on my shoulders, firm but gentle. “Coco. Breathe. Iggy thrives on stirring chaos.”
My vision blurs.
“I thought I could live with his world. I thought he had limits.” My voice breaks. “Fentanyl killed Julian. You know that. It destroyed him. And now the man I love might be tied to the same poison for money.”
Julian, my cousin, my best friend. He was the boy who taught me how to climb trees and sneak out without getting caught.
He was the one everyone believed would escape this life until fentanyl took him apart, piece by piece, and left nothing behind but wreckage.
Delphine’s expression softens, but her tone stays grounded. “You don’t know that Ridge is involved. Iggy is reckless and can be cruel. Especially when he’s trying to show off for a girl.”
“I don’t know, Del. Something in my gut…”
“Coco. Stop.”
“He heard it somewhere,” I say, words splintering. “And even if Ridge isn’t directly involved, it’s his family. His business. How am I supposed to look at him, knowing this is what they trade in?”
She exhales slowly. “You need to talk to him. Before you spiral, before you let someone else decide this for you.”
I step back, shaking my head. “What if my father was right? What if Ridge is exactly what he says?” My chest tightens further. “I can’t do this. I can’t be part of something that destroys people like Julian.”
Delphine reaches for me again, but I turn away. The weight of it presses down, unbearable and immediate. I need space. Distance. Air.
I push past her and head for the door. The shock of night air cuts through the fog in my head. For the first time since I chose Ridge, the certainty I’ve been clinging to begins to fracture.
I pull into my small, gated driveway and ease to a stop in front of the house.