Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
A WEEK LATER
Giovanni's man cave had seen it all. But Rolani's favorite detail was the reading nook Giovanni had built into the far wall for Paige.
Floor-to-ceiling bookcases, a lamp, her own corner in his space.
He caught himself wondering if Kennedi would want a corner of her own. Proof she belonged in his world.
“Is it safe to sit on this couch, my nigga?”
“Honestly, I wouldn’t. Shit gets a little wild down here.
” Giovanni laughed and shut his eyes. Rolani screwed his face up but laughed because he respected it.
That’s what he wanted. Someone who made home feel like more than a place to sleep.
Someone who had him grinning in the middle of conversations, thinking about her.
“Dawgg,” Rolani joked, causing Giovanni to laugh and shrug.
The brothers from another mother embraced.
They’d been meaning to link up for weeks, but business had them both moving in different directions.
That was the thing about making it out, the grind never stopped.
You kept pushing because you knew how quickly shit could disappear.
Giovanni handed him a glass of Hennessy Paradis, because the man didn’t do basic. Rolani took a sip and let the burn settle.
He chalked up his custom pool cue and tossed Rolani the other. They spent the next hour running the table, dissecting the Signature Rims contract, talking numbers and negotiation points for the parking garage they planned to purchase.
“I like the idea of turning it into some private shit,” Giovanni said, sinking a stripe.
“How many niggas we know with nice cars that need somewhere safe to keep them?” Rolani lined up his shot.
“Too many.” Giovanni grinned.
“My first spot’s completely full. Slim and Lesley got that bitch packed with cars.” Rolani knocked in two balls back-to-back.
Southside Luxury Vault was already thriving, but now it was time for another location—and he wanted his boy to own this one with him.
Giovanni nodded, already calculating. “Let’s make it happen.”
“Bet.”
“You been good, nigga?” Giovanni switched gears, tone casual, but his eyes were doing that thing where they searched for the truth beneath the surface.
“Yeah, why?”
“Come on, bruh.” Giovanni lined up his break shot, balls scattering with a satisfying crack. “I know you, and I know losing Pearl been fucking with you heavy. We been so caught up in this money shit, I ain’t been checking in like I should’ve been.”
“Ole soft ass,” Rolani laughed, trying to deflect, but Giovanni waited him out. That was his gift—knowing when to push and when to be present.
Rolani took another sip, let the burn settle. Giovanni wasn’t wrong. The grief still lived in his chest, heavy some days, lighter others. But lately? Lately, it felt different. Manageable. Like he could breathe through it instead of drowning in it.
“I ‘preciate that, for real. But I’m good. Better than I've been in a minute, actually.” He paused, the words sitting on his tongue. “Real good. Like... life-changing good.”
Giovanni’s head snapped up. “Life-changing? The fuck that mean?”
Rolani set his drink down, met his boy’s eyes. “Kennedi’s pregnant.”
The pool cue clattered to the floor.
“She’s WHAT?” Giovanni’s voice went up an octave. “Pregnant? Like... with a baby? YOUR baby?”
“Yeah, that’s my baby, and my woman,” Rolani said, hitting his flexed bicep.
Pride. The good kind.
They sat in that beat for a second, the pool balls long forgotten. “Nigga, congratulations. When the fuck did this happen?” Giovanni asked.
Rolani had been waiting for the question.
“From the plane, honestly. You set that shit up without even knowing it.” He could still see her face on the plane, the way she looked up at him, and that was it.
“At the premiere, we kept catching each other’s eyes.
It was like gravity or some shit. After that, David tried her, and I handled it.
She invited me to her room. We ended up talking and then having breakfast. The rest was me not letting up. History.”
Giovanni’s eyebrows shot up, half impressed, half concerned. “You been moving low as a bitch. I ain’t expect this. I’m happy for you, though. You need a good woman on your side. And damn nigga a daddy?”
Rolani shrugged. “I don’t do this shit, G.
I don’t catch feelings. Women come and go.
But Kennedi feels like divine alignment.
” Saying it out loud felt like stepping off a cliff.
“She got me picturing the future. I’m thinking about Sunday dinners, Christmas mornings, teaching my kids to ride bikes.
It’s wild, because you know a nigga picky. ”
Giovanni whistled low. “And you been seeing her since we got back?”
Rolani’s jaw clenched at the memory of her trying to duck him. “She tried to run at first. Talking about it was just physical, all that bullshit. Like what we had was a moment she could file away and forget. Nah, baby, I came to collect.”
That had pissed him off thinking about it, but Giovanni laughed, and so did he. She thought he was some nigga she could dismiss and had to learn the hard way.
“I showed up at her parents’ crib for Sunday dinner. I’ve been applying pressure.” No apology in his tone. He’d do it all again.
“You WHAT?” Giovanni nearly dropped his drink. “Nigga, you don’t even like meeting people, let alone parents.”
“I know.” Rolani couldn’t help but smile. That had been wild, even for him. “But she was avoiding me, trying to play me off. I had to let her know I wasn’t playing.”
“I’m pretty sure I love this damn girl. And she ain’t did much but exist and occupy a nigga’s time and bless me with a baby boy.”
“A boy?”
“Yeah, man.” Rolani couldn’t stop the smile spreading across his face. “My son. She’s six months.”
Giovanni stood, walked over, and dapped him up, pulling him into a hug that said he was proud and supportive without a word. “Whatever you need, you got it. But next time, don’t wait to tell me some shit this important. Nigga happy for you.”
“I was trying to figure it out myself first. Make sure I wasn't just caught up before I said it out loud.”
“When you gonna make it official?”
“Shit, already done, but she’s still trying to keep work and personal separate.” Rolani laughed, shaking his head. “Like that’s possible when I can barely keep my hands off her. Like I don’t be watching her through my office window, thinking about what that mouth do.”
“Aye, keep that shit low at the office. I don’t need any HR complaints, and we technically don’t even have HR.” Giovanni shook his head, laughing. “Paige is gonna be on bullshit when she finds out she was right about y’all.”
“She knows. Ken told her everything.”
“And nobody told me?”
“Keep it low, though. Ken’s still trying to establish herself professionally around here.”
“Say less.” Giovanni lined up his shot.
“‘Preciate that.” Rolani sank the eight ball clean. “Now rack ‘em up and let me whoop your ass again. All this emotional shit got me feeling soft.”
They talked shit like always, but there was a lightness to Rolani that hadn’t been there in months. Love looked good on him.
His phone buzzed. Kennedi’s name made him move faster than Giovanni had seen in years.
“Hey doll baby,” he answered, voice dropping. “What’s up?”
“Hey. I’m at the store. You never said if you were coming over tonight.”
His mouth curved. She was thinking about him.
“I’ll come through when I leave G’s. Give me fifteen minutes.” He paused. “And Ken — you thinking about me? Call. You need something? Call. You want company while you cook? Call. I don’t care what I'm in the middle of. You reach out, I'm answering. Every time.”
“I know.” She said. “I just wanted to hear your voice.”
“Then you called the right nigga.”
Giovanni made gagging noises in the background. Rolani flipped him off without looking.
“All I need in this life of sin is...”
“Ken.”
“Aight then, what’s at the store? You cooking for your man?”
He needed her to understand this wasn’t casual for him. Wasn’t some shit he said to sound good. And from the way she answered—clear, present, meeting him exactly where he was—she got it.
Giovanni made gagging noises in the background. Rolani flipped him off without looking.
“Is my man hungry?”
“He something. I miss you.”
“We saw each other at work.” Her laugh floated through the phone, but it sounded lighter than before. Freer.
“Yeah, as professionals. I’m tryna link on some other shit. The kind where you’re wearing that gown with the pockets and nothing else.”
“You are such a mess.” The ease in her voice when she agreed made his pulse kick. “Meet me at my house. My code is the last four digits of my phone number, in case you beat me there.”
The trust in that simple gesture settled over him. She was letting him in—literally and figuratively. No more running. No more walls.
“I’ll see you in a little bit, baby.”
When he disconnected, the biggest smile spread across his face. She made him feel like the first time a boy spots the pretty girl in class and knows she's out of his league, but still decides to shoot his shot.
“See? Look at you,” Giovanni said after he hung up. “Grinning like a kid on Christmas.”
“She called that shit bashful, nigga.” He laughed before brushing his hand down his face. “But real shit, her calling made my whole day.” Rolani couldn’t even front.
“That’s what love is supposed to feel like, my boy. Easy. Natural. Like breathing.”
He was quiet for a second. “I need her to stay, G. That’s all I need from her.”
Giovanni didn’t clown him for it. Just nodded. “She’s staying, bruh.”
“Yeah.” He didn’t sound convinced yet. “I hope. I’ll get up with you.” Rolani was already heading for the door.
“Handle your business.”
He wasted no time getting in the whip and floating to her spot, music low, windows down, feeling lighter than he had in months.