Chapter 12
Stone
I sat in the passenger seat of the blacked-out SUV, staring out the window as my driver navigated through the early morning traffic.
Behind me, Indie and Ishmael sat in silence.
The atmosphere in the truck was tense and awkward as fuck. Nobody was talking. Indie was probably still pissed about me forcing her to move. Ishmael was probably still processing everything. What his sister had done for him, what I’d revealed, what the fuck was happening to his life.
I was sitting here wondering if I was making the right move.
Moving Indie to my estate was extreme. I knew that. It was the kind of shit I’d never done before. Never even considered.
I didn’t bring women to my estate. Ever.
That was my sanctuary. It was my fortress. The one place in the world where I could exist without constantly looking over my shoulder, without worrying about enemies or traitors or any of the bullshit that came with running an empire. And now I was bringing her there. Bringing them there.
What the fuck was I doing?
I knew the answer, even if I didn’t want to admit it. I was obsessed with her. Completely, dangerously obsessed.
Indie had gotten under my skin in a way no woman ever had. She’d fucked with my head, made me do shit that went against every rule I’d ever set for myself.
I’d kept her captive for weeks. Fucked her without protection multiple times. Moved her belongings into my crash pad like she was mine to keep.
And now I was taking her to the most secure, private place I owned because the thought of her being anywhere else made my chest tight.
Because I needed her safe. Because I refused to let her go. Even though I knew it was reckless as fuck.
In my line of work, attachment was a weakness. Caring about someone made you vulnerable. It gave your enemies a target, and Indie was the biggest target I could’ve painted on my own back. But I didn’t care. I couldn’t. Not when it came to her.
The drive was long. It was about an hour and a half from the crash pad to the estate. I’d deliberately built it far from the city, far from the traps and the corners and all the bullshit that came with my business. Out here, I had space, privacy, and security. Out here, I could breathe.
I glanced in the side mirror, catching a glimpse of Indie in the backseat. She was staring out the window, her face unreadable. I wondered what she was thinking.
If she was scared. Angry. Resigned. If she had any idea how deep I was in this shit with her. Probably not. Because I barely understood it myself.
All I knew was… she wasn’t going nowhere. Not now. Not ever.
The SUV turned off the main road and onto the private drive that led to my estate. The road was long and winding, surrounded by trees on both sides.
I felt myself relax slightly as we got closer.
This was my domain. My kingdom. And now it was hers too, whether she knew it or not.
***
The twelve-foot wall came into view first.
It surrounded the entire property. Five acres of land, all of it mine. The wall was solid concrete, reinforced with steel, and topped with security measures that would make a prison jealous.
Cameras were positioned on every corner, every angle, capturing everything that happened on the perimeter. Ain’t shit getting in or out without me knowing about it.
As we approached the gate, I saw my armed guards standing at attention. Two of them, both strapped, both trained to kill on command.
They nodded at the SUV as we pulled up, and one of them pressed the button to open the gate. The heavy iron gates swung open slowly, and we drove through.
I heard Indie gasp softly behind me. I didn’t turn around, but I smirked.
The driveway was long. At least a quarter mile from the gate to the house. It was lined with perfectly manicured landscaping, trees and hedges trimmed to perfection by the groundskeepers I paid to maintain the property.
As the house came into view, I finally glanced back at Indie and Ishmael. Both of their jaws had dropped. Indie’s eyes were wide, her mouth slightly open as she stared at the property in front of us. Ishmael looked like he’d just seen a spaceship.
The estate was ten thousand square feet of luxury. Modern architecture with clean lines, floor-to-ceiling windows, and a facade that screamed money. It was beautiful. And it was mine.
The SUV pulled up to the front entrance and came to a stop. My driver got out first, then opened my door.
I stepped out, straightening my shirt, and walked around to open Indie’s door myself.
She was still staring at the house, her expression a mix of shock and disbelief.
“You actually live here?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
I nodded.
“Yeah, I do. The spot you were at is where I stay when I don’t want to make the drive out here.”
Indie shook her head slowly, like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.
“You live here alone?” she asked.
“Just me and the staff that need to be here around the clock,” I said.
Ishmael climbed out of the SUV, his eyes still glued to the house.
“This shit crazy,” he muttered.
I didn’t respond. I just turned and walked toward the front door, knowing they’d follow.
The interior of the estate was just as impressive as the exterior.
I’d spared no expense when I built this place.
Everything was state-of-the-art, immaculate, designed to perfection.
The floors were polished marble, the walls painted in neutral tones that made the space feel open and airy.
The furniture was custom-made, luxurious but not over-the-top.
Everything had a purpose. Everything was intentional.
I led Indie and Ishmael through the grand foyer and into the kitchen first. The kitchen was easily the size of most people’s entire apartments. It had top-of-the-line appliances, a huge island in the center, and enough counter space to prepare a feast.
Brady, my live-in chef, was standing at the stove, stirring something in a pot. He looked up when we walked in and nodded respectfully.
“Mr. Wright,” he said.
“Brady,” I said. “This is Indigo and Ishmael. They’ll be staying here from now on.”
Brady’s expression didn’t change. He was a professional. Discreet, efficient, and paid well enough not to ask questions.
“Welcome,” he said to Indie and Ishmael. “If you need anything, just let me know.”
Indie nodded, still looking around like she couldn’t believe where she was.
Ava, my housekeeper, walked in from the hallway. She was an older woman in her fifties, with kind eyes and a no-nonsense demeanor.
“Good morning, Mr. Wright,” she said.
“Morning, Ava. This is Indigo and Ishmael. Make sure they have everything they need.”
“Of course,” Ava said, smiling warmly.
I could see Indie processing everything. The staff, the house, the sheer magnitude of what I was showing her. I wanted her to understand. This was what I could provide. This was the life she’d have with me.
I led them out of the kitchen and down the hall to the theater room.
The door opened to reveal a space that looked like a private cinema. Plush reclining seats arranged in tiered rows, facing a screen that stretched across the wall, with surround sound speakers built in so clean you couldn’t even see them. Every detail was high-end.
Indie’s eyes widened again.
“You have a whole movie theater in your house?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I said simply.
Ishmael walked in and sat down in one of the recliners, testing it out.
“This is fire,” he said, grinning.
I smirked.
Next, I showed them the game room. Pool table, arcade games, a fully stocked bar in the corner. Everything a nigga could want to unwind.
Then the home gym.
State-of-the-art equipment, weights, treadmills, a boxing ring in the corner. When I was home, I spent a lot of time in here, keeping my body sharp, my mind focused.
Indie was quiet as we walked through each room, but I could see her taking it all in. I could see the wheels turning in her head, and I was watching her the whole time.
Watching the way her eyes lit up when she saw something that impressed her. Watching the way she bit her lip when she was thinking. Watching the way her body moved as she walked.
She didn’t realize it yet, but this was hers, too. All of it. Even if I hadn’t fully admitted it to myself until now.
I led them outside through the sliding glass doors in the back. The backyard was just as impressive as the interior.
A pool stretched out in front of us, the water crystal clear and shimmering in the sunlight. Next to it was a jacuzzi, big enough to fit at least eight people comfortably.
To the left was the outdoor kitchen with top-of-the-line appliances, a built-in grill, and a wood-fired pizza oven. Everything a chef could want.
There was an outdoor bar with stools, a grill area with seating, and a fire pit surrounded by comfortable lounge chairs. The landscaping was perfect. Manicured lawns, flower beds, trees providing shade in all the right places.
It was a paradise.
Indie walked to the edge of the pool and stared down at the water, shaking her head.
“This is unreal,” she said softly.
I stood a few feet behind her, watching. I wanted her to understand exactly what I was giving her. The security. The luxury. The life. Everything.
Ishmael was already exploring, walking around the pool and checking out the outdoor bar.
“Yo, Stone, this is crazy,” he said, grinning. “You really live like this?”
“Yeah,” I said.
And now so did they.
After showing them the backyard, I led them back inside and upstairs. The second floor had several bedrooms, each with its own en-suite bathroom.
I stopped in front of one of the doors and pushed it open.
“This is your room,” I said, looking at Ishmael.
He stepped inside and his eyes went wide.
There was a king-sized bed with a flatscreen across from it, a desk, a chair, and a full walk-in closet.
But what really got his attention were the video game consoles already set up: PlayStation 5, Xbox Series X, Nintendo Switch.
All of them connected to the TV with the controllers lined up on the entertainment center.
“No fucking way,” Ishmael breathed.
I smirked.