Chapter Three #2
It was date night, and Nivéa was genuinely looking forward to it. After their return from Vegas, Crown had promised her that he would carve out time for at least two dates every week, and so far, he had kept his word.
Having a nigga with money and real respect in the city came with perks Nivéa was still getting familiar with. Everywhere Crown took her, people showed love, moved accordingly, and made sure everything was right without them having to say too much.
This made the third restaurant Crown had taken her to, where a section was already set aside. But tonight was different. They had Nyla with them, most date nights would include her.
The rooftop was completely cleared out, set up just for them. Arranged in a cozy, intimate way that felt personal rather than formal. Crown had made sure of that. He wanted the evening special, especially after hearing her good news.
“Congratulations again, ma. I’m proud of you. A women’s conference is big. But I’m not surprised. You’re a go-getter.” He said, sitting across from her.
Nivéa blushed. “Thank you, baby. You really believe in me.”
“Hell yeah, I believe in you. Your shit is dope. What you thinking about doing for the customs? What you need from me?”
“She wants the same aesthetic, so I’m thinking I’ll expand the neutral-tone palette, and have you draw models that fit her style a little more.
Maybe some older women, some corporate women, entrepreneurs.
I’m definitely switching up the quotes too.
Something geared more toward leadership, ownership, and building wealth.
Julie is a boss chick for real. I want the message to reflect that.
I also want hers to stand out the most. She has this beautiful, rich, dark complexion like Reesh. We have to make her model the same.”
“Yeah, I can see that. Make sense. What kind of quotes?”
“Stuff like, ‘A seat at the table was never the goal. Ownership was.’ ‘Bosses don’t wait for opportunities. They create them.’ ‘Build the room they tried to keep you out of.’ Things like that.”
The corner of Crown’s mouth rose as he nodded proudly.
“Aight, ma. I see you. A nigga feelin’ that. Real shit.”
Nivéa snickered, thinking she was extremely blessed.
Crown was her biggest hype man. Then her smile deepened as she watched Nyla shift slightly in his arms, letting out a small sound before settling again.
He adjusted her gently, keeping her close.
A warmth tightened in Nivéa’s chest, and before she knew it, her thoughts slipped out.
“How did I get this?”
Crown tore his eyes away from Nyla and looked up. “Get what?”
“This.” Nivéa nodded toward him and Nyla. “You. All of this.” Her gaze drifted to her ring before she motioned around the five-star restaurant.
“It feels like just yesterday I was single, struggling to hold on to my sanity as a first-time mother and business owner. Now I’m sitting here pregnant again, married to a good man who spoils my baby and me rotten, and my business is finally taking off.”
Crown held her gaze for a moment, then said firmly,
“You deserve all of this and more. I promised you the world, and I’ma give it to you.”
“I hear you, baby.” Nivéa believed his every word.
They stared at one another until their server approached quietly, setting their food down before stepping away just as smoothly.
“Stop thinking so much and eat, woman. You’ve been saying you hungry since you got home. Feed my baby.”
Nivéa laughed softly. “Yes, sir.”
As she picked up her fork, Crown leaned back slightly in his chair, still holding Nyla with one hand while eating with the other. Nivéa hurried, scarfing down as much food as she could, trying to rush so she could take her from him and let him enjoy his meal.
However, Crown wasn’t having it. He stopped her as she reached over and told her to relax and enjoy her dessert. He had Nyla, and it would always be like that. The city lights stretched behind him and his attention never left the table. Everything he cared about was right there.
Once they left the restaurant, Crown took them to Satin Hills Park.
They settled onto a family swing, chatting as they enjoyed the evening.
When Nyla started to fuss, they decided to walk the trail.
It wasn’t until they were a mile in that she finally closed her eyes, falling asleep against Crown’s chest.
Everything felt calm… until it wasn’t. Ten minutes later, his burner began to vibrate in his pocket.
Nivéa glanced over at him, but when she saw him ignore it, she did too.
They resumed their conversation, but the phone rang a second time.
Crown let it go again. By the third ring, Nivéa stopped walking.
“Answer it, baby. It’s okay.” She said, reaching for Nyla.
“Nah, I’ll call back once we’re home.”
Nivéa shook her head, placing Nyla in the carrier strapped to her chest. “No, you’ll answer now. I’m sure it’s important. It always is.”
Crown sighed, casting another glance at them, hesitant. But then Nivéa smiled at him and caressed his beard, assuring him everything would be okay between them if he took the call. Suddenly, everything felt okay for Crown. He gestured for her to sit on a nearby bench while he answered.
“Sup, Lock?” He said, his eyes never leaving Nivéa and Nyla.
“Sup, need a word wit’ ya.”
“About?”
“Just came from Rell’s spot. Money short again.”
Crown’s nostrils flared. “What he say?”
“Said it was another slow week.”
“And what you say?”
“I say he’s full of shit, but before I put that fire to his ass, I wanted to check in first.”
Crown got quiet, taking in the situation.
Lock handled the club’s money, every dollar that came in or went out touched his hands first. He wasn’t just good with numbers; he was wired for it.
Back in school, he was the one teachers bragged about…
sharp, quiet, always ahead. The type who could’ve been something legit if life had gone differently.
Crown’s father picked up on it. They went to school together, same grade level, same math class, and he saw it early. He recognized how Lock moved, how his mind worked. Said in another life, the nigga would’ve been an accountant or maybe even a financial advisor.
But Lock chose the streets.
He chose the Knights over going off to college. So, when Crown’s father took over, he put Lock where he belonged…over the money. The Treasurer.
Crown trusted him just as much as Ahmad Sr. did. So, if Lock said something was off, then it was off.
“Aight, don’t worry ‘bout it. I’ll handle it.”
Without another word, Crown ended the call.