Crown: Man of My Word 2

Chapter One

Nivéa’s heart thudded as she tightened her hold on Nyla. She rubbed the baby’s back, trying to soothe her while also calming herself. The shit Boe had just dumped on her had her body shaking uncontrollably. Her eyes were so wide they looked like they might pop out of her head.

“Why the fuck would you come here with this?” She snapped, her voice firm but trembling.

Nivéa was tired down to her soul and fed up with Boe’s bullshit.

When it came to him, she was constantly being dragged into storms she hadn’t created.

Secretly, she had hoped he would get all the time he was facing so he could stay away long enough to forget about her.

But nope, he managed to get out, and the minute he did, trouble followed.

Boe exhaled hard, acting as if she were the one bothering him… like she was the unreasonable one.

“You can stand there mad all you want, but you attached to me, whether you like it or not. A nigga like Preach can find out anything in seconds. The minute he can’t locate me, he’s gon’ figure out you’re not just my girl, but you got my seed too.

Then he’ll mark you as my weakness and come for your ass. ”

“I’m not your fuckin’ girl.” Nivéa fired back in frustration.

“That ain’t the way my people see it. From around our way, niggas definitely know you mine. Moving doesn’t change that, Nivéa. But I ain’t gonna sit here and argue with you. You lucky a nigga even came to warn you. I could’ve dipped and left your ass out here clueless.”

Nivéa let out a low, humorless laugh. The nerve of him. As if she was supposed to feel grateful for him dragging his dirt to her doorstep. “No, what you could’ve done is kept your mouth closed and served whatever time you earned.”

“Watch your muthafuckin’ mouth. Real talk.” Boe warned, his eyes narrowing. Already feeling like less of a man, he was sensitive to the matter.

“No, let’s be real. You’re not doing me any favors, Boe. You came because you think I’m your backup plan. You came because you want my money to clean up your mess. Well, I don’t have shit for you.”

“That’s how the fuck you wanna handle this? After all this time we shared, you gon’ talk to me like that and turn your back on me?”

“I don’t owe you shit, nigga!” Nivéa shouted, and Nyla began to cry once more. Guilt slammed into her chest immediately. She bounced her quickly, slipping in her pacifier.

Tears pricked Nivéa’s eyes, not for Boe, but for herself…for getting caught up with him and for the years she wasted ignoring every red flag.

“Baby, come on,” Boe tried a softer approach. “This ain’t the time for all that. I thought you and I were better than this. I come to you when I’m down on my ass, and this is how you do—”

“You used a gun to force your way in, knowing my child is here. You and me? We ain’t shit no more. I regret the day I ever met you, nigga. You need to get the fuck out of my house.”

“I wasn’t gonna use it. I just knew that was the only way you’d let me in this muthafucka without a fight. But—”

“But what?” Nivéa hissed, arching an eyebrow as she studied him closely.

Boe smelled like sweat and pure panic. Desperation soaked through his clothes. Months in the county had carved him out. His hair had grown into a fro, and his beard was thick and wild. His eyes were the worst, wide and frantic. He looked like a man running on fear and fumes.

“Look, never mind. I ain’t even trying to take it there with you. I just need bread, baby.” His voice dropped as he dragged a shaky hand down his face.

“Boe, stop calling me baby. And that money is gone. I used it to move, pay bills, and take care of Ny. I don’t have anything left.”

Nivéa deliberately left out the business she had opened. That part of her life was hers. It was the one thing he didn’t know about, and she was grateful for it now. The moment she chose to do better, she quietly erased him from her future. That was her reset, her do-over.

“You a fuckin’ lie. I know you. You always keep something tucked for a rainy day. I ain’t stupid.”

Nivéa shook her head in defeat. “Wow,” she replied, her voice dripping with disgust.

She had already seen Boe as pathetic, but now the reality was even uglier.

He was the scum of the earth to her, and she hated that she had ever loved him enough to overlook it.

This wouldn’t be the first time he had come to her to pull him out of a bind.

She had put money on his books, bonded him out more than once, and even covered a gambling debt he swore he would pay back but never did.

She had been through so much with him, and for what?

Nothing but more chaos, more disappointment, and more proof that he would always drag her down with him.

“I’mma give it back to you as soon as I get on my feet. Every time you looked out for a nigga, I always gave you your shit back.” He had the nerve to lie as if she’d forgotten.

“Not always.” Her voice cracked as her eyes watered.

Nivéa felt sorry for herself. Sorry that she had ever let it get this far.

Their relationship had started well, with him love-bombing her ass relentlessly.

But after a year, it had spiraled into pure chaos.

She had spent nearly all their time together trying to see the good in Boe, convincing herself that love meant looking past the flaws, the red flags, and the lies.

And where had it gotten her? Standing in her living room, holding a baby she was raising alone, while the same man she had once defended against her mother and the world stood before her with a gun, demanding money that had come to her as a blessing…

money she had worked damn hard to stretch and survive on.

“You know, all you ever did was take from me. Take and take and take. That’s all I know from you.

You know what most girls get from a nigga who moves weight?

A lavish home, a nice car, something to make the bullshit worth it.

What did you give me that's worth talking about? Hm, Borris? Nothing.” She found herself venting.

“Is that what this shit about? I bought for you and paid ya bills when I could, but a nigga wasn’t rich. I had my people to look out for, too. You know that. I carried them niggas on my back.”

“This ain’t just about money and materialistic shit. This is about me never coming first. This is about you never being good to me in any way. You take and take and don’t give back. Not love. Not effort. Not a gotdamn thing. Now here you go again.”

“Bro, I don’t have time for this shit right now.”

“I never asked you to make time,” Nivéa retorted, her voice cold as ice. “I asked you to leave me the fuck alone. I asked you to leave.” She pointed at the door. “Just go and take all your bullshit with you.”

Boe froze, not because he was thinking about leaving, but because her words hit him straight in the chest. He looked at her, really looked at her.

He saw not just the woman in front of him, but the damage he’d left behind over the years.

The tired eyes. The guarded posture. The hurt he had caused and pretended not to see.

He knew she wasn’t lying. Every word she said held up a mirror to the flaws he had spent their entire relationship ignoring.

Nivéa was a good woman. A damn good one.

The best thing that had ever crossed his path, and he knew he had fucked it up.

The thought ate at him in a way he hated to admit, especially while he sat behind those bars.

He had wanted to do right by her; he just never knew how.

Nobody had taught him. He wasn’t raised with a man in the house to show him how to love or lead a woman.

Chaos raised Boe.

A single mama trying to stretch nothing across eight kids by four different men.

Poverty. Noise. Survival mode. Out of all her sons, Boe was the only one no longer behind bars or dead.

One brother got life in the system years ago.

Another was killed. His baby brother was sitting in juvie right now, waiting for his own fate, and Boe had been paying for a lawyer until he got locked up again himself.

His sisters leaned on him. Their kids leaned on him.

Everybody had their hands out, needed something.

Then there were the side chicks, the gambling, and the constant need to feel like the man.

Tricking money, showing off just to feel big for a moment.

Somewhere along the way, Nivéa started coming last. Not because he didn’t love her, but because he knew she loved him for who he was, not for what he could provide.

That made it easy to take her for granted.

But if he could start over, Boe swore he’d do better.

He would stand on business, do right by her, and be the man she deserved instead of the mess standing in her living room.

He did adore her. He did love her…in his own twisted, fucked-up way.

But it was too late to fix everything he had broken with her.

Too much damage. Too many chances wasted.

And with everything crashing down around him, love wasn’t on the list of things he could worry about.

Survival came first. It always had. So, he snapped right back into that mindset.

“Nah, I’m not going nowhere yet. Whatever you got, I need it. So, stop fuckin’ around.” His expression hardened as desperation crept into his voice.

Nivéa felt her throat tighten, but her voice stayed steady. “I already told you no. What I have left is for bills. For me and Ny to survive. So what, you gon’ rob me for our last?”