Creed-
"This attack was premeditated.
She's been threatening to kick my ass for years.
I can't even tell you how many times I recall her telling me, 'I'mma beat your ass on sight, Tiffany,'" Tiffany said, swiveling her neck dramatically while mimicking Momma's voice.
I sighed.
Noah shook his head, and Tempest chuckled.
She was enjoying the drama.
She had left my god baby home with her daddy to come be entertained in person. I couldn't blame her. Her husband had been acting like he couldn't do anything for the baby without her. She needed a break, and I was glad I could help her get one.
Momma clapped her hands, drawing everyone's attention away from Tiffany's testimony.
"Bitch, and I did...
beat your ass until you begged me to let you loose!" Momma jumped up from where she was sitting next to three high-powered attorneys in nearly identical five-digit black suits.
They were all trying to get her to calm down, but she kept trying to take a step closer to Tiffany. They didn’t know what to do with her most of the time, and her court case had turned into a debacle. There were paparazzi outside, entertainment reporters, TikTok and Twitter reporters in the courtroom. And they had good reason to be there. It was nearly six weeks after the incident on the day Daddy got out of jail, but Tiffany had shown up in a neck brace, like she'd been in a car accident or something, not a simple fight.
Momma wouldn’t stop interrupting court proceedings, and even though Donovan had dropped charges against Troy, Daddy was on the brink of catching another charge because he couldn't stop fighting with the people who showed up to support Tiffany.
They stood outside the courthouse, calling Momma all kinds of names.
I had said I wasn't dealing with them until after the baby, but seeing my Momma break down crying on TV after being called so many pejoratives—I had to come.
I booked Noah and me on the first flight from Atlanta to Florida.
"Ma'am, sit down," the judge yelled, banging her gavel.
The sound of wood hitting wood echoed in the courtroom.
The judge was a petite redhead, reminding me of a less stacked version of that chick Elisabeth on the show with the fine Hispanic dude.
Her face was redder than her hair. Momma had been wearing this lady's patience thin. You'd think, for once, she’d act right, just so she could go home at the end of the trial instead of doing jail time, but for Scarlett Rose, that would be too much like right.
The bailiff walked toward Momma with a serious look on his face.
One of her lawyers jumped up.
"Can we have a recess, Judge?" he rushed, trying to save her.
The judge glared at him but dismissed us.
"I want you back here in three hours, ready to act appropriately in my courtroom," she directed at Scarlett.
The courtroom erupted into disarray as soon as the judge disappeared into her office.
Mommy was ushered out and into the room next to the courtroom.
Even Tempest left.
Noah and I waited until everybody had left to follow them out.
Noah turned to me before I could stand up, piercing me with those blue eyes of his.
I was ready to go.
The smell of multiple people's body odor and perfume was making me nauseous.
"We’re going to talk to your parents.
You stay calm.
The minute things get out of hand," he paused to make sure I was looking at him, "and you know they will—we’re leaving."
We walked out of the courtroom, and the halls were empty except for Maine and Tiffany.
Both their heads made a slow turn in our direction as soon as we exited.
"Here we go," I sighed.
"Fuck," Noah cursed under his breath.
Maine rushed toward Noah.
Tiffany stood behind with a smirk curving her thin lips.
Her blue eyes damn near twinkled.
She was causing trouble and enjoying it. At her big age, it was kind of pathetic. "Why haven’t you been calling me back?" Maine got up in Noah's face, not acknowledging my presence at all. I stepped back out of the way. Noah had already let me listen to a few of the voicemails she sent decrying our marriage.
She looked different.
I kept staring, trying to figure out why.
Oh, she was high as fuck.
His eyes narrowed into slits.
"Because you don’t want to talk; you want to fight about things that don’t concern you. Like DJ."
"There’s nothing I can do about DJ when Troy took everything from me." After the incident at the jail, Troy had cut Maine off for bringing Tiffany there.
But being "cut off" didn’t mean what it sounded like.
She still owned her home and car and received a three-thousand-dollar monthly payment from her trust fund.
She just couldn’t use our parents' credit cards and have them pay the bill.
A laugh bubbled out of my mouth before I could stop it.
"What are you laughing at?" Maine turned and all but screamed in my direction.
Noah stepped between us.
I stepped out from behind him, not worried one bit about Maine.
"I talk to DJ daily.
It’s been weeks since you’ve called him."
Maine’s face went red.
"It’s none of your business," she screamed.
I shook my head.
"What is wrong with you, Maine? Like really.
We had a good relationship up until five years ago.
I know it can't be Devon. You were shady way before then." I shifted my weight to my right foot.
"This isn't the time or place," Noah chimed in.
I shook my head.
"No, let her get whatever she has to say off her chest.
This might be the last time she has the chance." I'd rather just cut her off than deal with her attitude.
Yeah, I loved my sister, but not at the cost of my peace.
Maine started with her voice raised but lowered it after looking at Noah.
I didn't have to see his face to know he was scowling at her.
"You did everything I did.
The drugs, being promiscuous. You even fucked the married professor, and you got everything. Compton's record company. The man I wanted. The life I wanted. I’m living in a duplex with my son, and his father barely tolerates talking to me, then he took him to spite you."
Tears had started running down her face.
I felt something for Maine's sob story, but no sympathy, just pity.
"We all had equal opportunities in the world we were brought up in.
You just chose to never grow up after graduating.
What happened to going to business school?"
"Why, so I could still hear about how much better you were? Then you committed the ultimate betrayal—you turned my brother against me."
She turned to look at Noah.
"She doesn’t love you; she only wants to get back at me because of Devon."
Before Noah could even open his mouth to entertain her foolishness, I said, "How much? How much to make all this bullshit go away? To make your mother disappear?" I knew this all stemmed from money, at least where Tiffany was concerned.
I just thought Maine was having some kind of mental breakdown from being in a family like ours, but that she would eventually rebound and beg us all to forgive her.
Maine had never had to thrive on her own, and it was probably hard for her.
"Five million," Tiffany said, moving so quickly I didn’t register her taking her place at Maine's side.
"Momma, I don’t want her money," Maine whined.
"What are you doing?" Noah tried to get me to look at him.
I shrugged him off.
I could give them five million and not even miss it.
"Check, or would you prefer cash? It would take a few days, but you have to drop the charges on my momma and tell the prosecutor you provoked her on purpose that day," I directed to Tiffany.
"Deal," she readily agreed.
Maine snapped.
She elbowed her mother out of the way.
"We don’t want your money!" She yelled and lunged for me, so quickly I was surprised.
Noah held her back as mayhem ensued. Maine's outburst brought out our parents and the media. The paparazzi crowded around Troy and Scarlett, keeping them from getting to us, but you could hear them yelling.
Noah shoved Maine away and rushed me out of the courthouse like I was some crime lord and he was my bodyguard.
"Why did you do that?" Noah asked when we were inside our SUV; the driver took off.
Noah's face was red, and I knew he was doing everything in his power not to yell at me.
I pulled my cellphone from my pocket and hit play.
Tiffany agreeing to drop the charges played back.
"There was a method to my madness.
The guy from TLX who was sitting behind us probably got part of the conversation too."
"What if she would have actually hit you?"
I frowned.
"I knew you wouldn’t let her."
Noah shook his head.
"I told you to behave.
We can’t be causing problems everywhere we go."
"Since when? That’s all our family does."
Noah turned and looked out the window.
"We’ll discuss this later," he replied firmly.
I texted Tempest, then my daddy.
I couldn’t do anything about Noah being mad.
When we pulled up to his house where we were staying, there was a couple standing outside.
Older, white, dressed too warm for Florida winter, in trench coat-style jackets.
They looked as if they’d just knocked and were waiting.
Our driver pulled to a stop, and Noah opened the door but didn’t step out.
"May I help you all?" he asked just as they turned around.
The woman and I gasped at the same time.
Me, because the man was an older exact replica of Noah. I knew who they were then.
Wolfgang Engel was Noah's father; he had committed suicide before Noah was even born.
Rumor was he was another one of Tiffany's victims.
But he'd already been depressed.
These people had to be his parents. I had never thought to Google them because they had never been a part of Noah's life. It was suspect that they showed up now. And now I would have to tell Noah about their offer to me.
I sighed.
As soon as news of Noah and I getting married became public, his family's business manager contacted me and said they wanted to combine "empires." I told them no, outright.
I had an empire.
They had a small record label that produced music the exact opposite of what I put out, and they were only surviving because they kept publishing their son's music. It would not have been a symbiotic relationship. It would have been them eating off my godfather's hard work. And besides, Compton Ave was one of the few Black-owned and controlled record labels in the world, and it would remain that way.
I didn’t hear how they responded to Noah's question, but whatever they said put him on alert.
"Stay here," he said before getting out.
I rolled my eyes but didn’t object.
I watched as he got out of the car, and the woman, his grandmother, pulled him into a hug.
Without even knowing why they were here, I knew that whatever was about to happen was just going to add to the messiness of our lives.
I took a pic and sent it to Tempest.
Then I closed my eyes and rested my head against the seat.
Might as well enjoy the quiet for a while.