Chapter 18
Indie
I was nervous.
I had a surprise for Stone tonight when he came back to the estate. I’d already confirmed with him earlier that he was coming home.
I’d been working on a design. It was a custom jacket made just for him.
I’d gone into his closet and used the measurements from one of his tailored suits so I could make it without tipping him off.
Now it was finished, hanging on the rack across the room, and I was damn near second guessing if I should even give it to him.
What if he didn’t like it?
What if he thought it was stupid?
I exhaled slowly, dragging a hand through my hair.
I’d spent enough time around Stone to know his style.
I didn’t try to change it. I leaned into it.
Everything he wore was always clean, structured, and dark.
Controlled. That was him. But I added my own touches.
Subtle stitching along the seams, a custom lining on the inside…
something he wouldn’t notice right away unless he was actually paying attention.
I swallowed hard as I walked over again, running my hand over the sleeve for what felt like the hundredth time.
“It’s fine. He’ll like it,” I tried to hype myself up.
By the time the sun went down, I was pacing around the design room.
Then I heard his footsteps coming down the hall. He appeared in the doorway and my heart jumped. His eyes went straight to me.
“What’s up, baby?” he asked.
“Nothing,” I said. “Just finished a new design.”
His gaze moved around the room, then back to me. “What you make?”
I hesitated. “It’s… not for me,” I said.
Stone raised an eyebrow. “For who, then?”
I nodded toward the rack. “For you.”
He didn’t move at first. He just stood there for a second, looking at me like he was deciding if I was playing or not. Then he walked over slowly.
His eyes dropped to the jacket, taking it in piece by piece. He didn’t touch it right away, he just looked at it. Finally, he reached out and grabbed the fabric between his fingers, feeling it.
“You made this for me?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “Used one of your suits for sizing.”
His eyes flicked to me. “You went in my closet?”
“You had them niggas running up in my closet, didn’t you?” He chuckled and I continued, “I had to get it right.”
He gave a small nod, then took it off the hanger and put it on. My heart started racing. He adjusted the sleeves, rolled his shoulders, testing the fit. It sat on him perfectly. Like it belonged on him. Because it did.
He moved toward the mirror, studying himself quietly. Then his hand stilled. His fingers brushed the inside lining. He paused, just for a second. Then he pulled the jacket open slightly, looking inside. His eyes sharpened as he looked back at me.
“You put my name in this?” he asked, his voice lower now.
My stomach flipped, thinking about where I’d stitched Stone into it. I’d wanted to give it a personal touch.
I nodded. “Yeah.”
He looked back at the jacket, running his thumb over the stitching like he needed to feel it again. I crossed my arms, suddenly feeling exposed.
“If you don’t like it, you can just say that,” I said. “It’s not a big deal—”
“Nah.” His voice cut right through mine. I stopped talking. He turned toward me. “This shit hard,” he said.
Relief hit me instantly.
“Yeah?” I asked, trying to play it off like he didn’t just make my whole day.
He stepped closer and reached out, tilting my chin up so I had to look at him.
“You really made this for me,” he said.
It wasn’t a question.
“Yeah,” I said softly.
Something shifted in his eyes. Something subtle, but real. His hand dropped from my chin to my waist, pulling me into him.
“Thank you, baby,” he murmured.
He leaned down and kissed me, slow at first. His hand tightened slightly at my waist as the kiss deepened. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against mine for a second.
“This my new favorite jacket,” he said, smirking.
I smiled. “You like it that much?”
“I love it,” he confirmed.
“Good,” I said. “You better.”
He laughed. “Come on,” he said, grabbing my hand. “Brady made dinner. Let’s eat.”
***
A week had passed since I gave Stone the custom jacket I’d made for him. A whole week of being stuck inside these walls again, and I was starting to lose my damn mind.
Don’t get me wrong, the estate was beautiful. Luxurious. Had everything I could possibly need. My design room, all the amenities a person could ever want.
But it was still a cage. A gilded cage, but a cage nonetheless.
Last night, after Stone fucked me into oblivion and had me screaming his name so loud that I was sure Brady and Ava heard me downstairs, I’d asked if I could go with him to LA in the morning.
I wanted to hang out with Aurora. I needed to get out of this damn house and just chill with my best friend for a few hours.
Stone wasn’t on board right away. He’d looked at me with that calculating expression, the one that said he was weighing options and considering all the ways shit could go wrong.
“I’d prefer if Aurora came here,” he’d said, his voice calm but firm.
That’s when I went the fuck off on him.
Cussed his ass out for a solid ten minutes about how I wasn’t a prisoner, how I needed to get out sometimes, how I was going crazy being stuck in the same place day after day. I’d called him controlling, possessive, unreasonable. Told him he couldn’t keep me locked up like Rapunzel in a tower.
Stone had just stared at me the whole time, his jaw tight, his eyes dark. But eventually, he’d given in.
“Fine,” he’d said. “But you’re taking Javion and Troy with you. Non-negotiable.”
I’d agreed immediately, not caring about the guards as long as I got to leave.
Now, standing in my closet getting ready, I couldn’t help but smirk to myself. I had power over Stone now. Real power. He couldn’t tell me no as easily as he used to. Couldn’t just dismiss my requests or ignore what I wanted. Something had shifted between us.
Maybe it was the barbecue. Seeing him interact with his friends, watching him be almost... normal. Maybe it was the way he’d been looking at me lately, like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.
Or maybe it was just time.
Time spent together, time learning each other, time building something that felt less like captivity and more like... something else.
Whatever it was, I could feel the change. And I liked it.
I pulled a white Chanel crop top off the hanger, the high neckline giving it a clean, expensive vibe.
The matching skirt hugged my curves like it was made for me, sitting just right on my hips and making my ass look too damn good.
I slipped on my white Gucci sneakers, the signature red and green stripe flashing with every step. Comfortable, but still fly as hell.
I threw on a Cartier love bracelet and diamond studs, with a Rolex at my wrist. I grabbed my white Chanel crossbody and took one last look in the mirror.
I looked expensive. Like I lived this life. Like I belonged to a man with money. The thought made me pause.
Belonged to.
That’s what I was, wasn’t it? Stone’s woman. His… whatever the fuck we were. I still didn’t have a name for it.
Girlfriend felt too light. Too normal. I damn sure wasn’t his wife. But captive felt too harsh now, even though technically that’s how this whole thing started.
I shook the thought away.
Stone was in his closet getting ready too. I could hear him moving around, opening drawers, the soft rustle of fabric.
When I walked out of my closet and into the bedroom, he was just stepping out of his.
Damn.
He looked fine as hell.
Stone was dressed in dark colors, clean from head to toe.
Givenchy jeans molded perfectly to his build, a Saint Laurent tee stretched across his broad chest. And over it, the jacket I made him.
Tailored perfectly to his frame, like it had always belonged there.
Black Balenciagas grounded the look, effortless but expensive.
Thick gold chains hung heavy at his neck, catching the light every time he moved, his diamond watch flashing just enough to remind you what kind of man he was.
His fade was sharp, his goatee lined with precision. He looked like money. Like power. Like a man who could have anything and anyone he wanted.
And for some reason, he wanted me.
Stone’s eyes traveled over me slowly, taking in every detail of my outfit. When his gaze met mine again, there was heat in his eyes.
“You look good as fuck, baby,” he said, his voice low and rough.
Before I could respond, he crossed the room in three long strides and grabbed me. His large hands went straight to my ass, gripping and squeezing through the denim.
Then he kissed me, deep and demanding. His tongue sliding against mine, his teeth catching my bottom lip. I melted into him, my hands going to his chest, feeling the solid muscle beneath the fabric of his shirt.
He pulled back and stared into my eyes. I knew mine were full of desire.
“You keep looking at me like that and we ain’t leaving this room,” Stone murmured against my lips.
I smirked. “We gotta go. I got plans, remember?”
Stone’s jaw tightened slightly, but he nodded.
“Let’s go then.”
We headed downstairs and out the front door. A black Escalade was waiting in the driveway, engine running. Javion was behind the wheel, and Troy was standing by the back passenger door.
Ishmael had already left for school. I’d checked on him earlier this morning, made sure he ate breakfast and had everything he needed.
He was adjusting well to his new school, making friends, staying out of trouble. It made me feel better knowing he was good.
Troy opened the back door for us, and Stone gestured for me to get in first. I slid into the backseat, and Stone climbed in after me. The door closed, and Javion pulled out of the driveway.
The drive to LA was long, about an hour and fifteen minutes depending on traffic.
Stone and I didn’t talk much. He had his phone out, scrolling through messages and responding to texts. Business shit, probably.