Chapter Six
Jayla
Imani slapped me before she hugged me.
Not hard enough to cause damage, but hard enough to communicate that she had considered doing worse.
“What was that for?”
“For getting shot at!”
“I didn’t arrange it.”
“You accepted twelve thousand suspicious dollars.”
“I used it to save our house.”
“And nearly got yourself killed.”
She hugged me again.
Zo? wrapped herself around my legs.
“Auntie Jay, are we rich now?”
“No.”
She looked around Malachi’s mansion.
“Are you sure?”
“None of this belongs to us.”
“Can I use the pool?”
“Absolutely not.”
Malachi entered the foyer behind them.
Zo? looked up at him.
“You own this castle?”
“It’s a house.”
“It has towers.”
“Decorative ones.”
“That means castle.”
Malachi considered her argument.
“Fine.”
“Are you a king?”
“No.”
“Then why do they call you Crown?”
He looked toward me.
I bit my lip to keep from laughing.
“Because adults make poor decisions,” he told her.
Zo? accepted that answer and skipped away with Simone.
Imani watched Malachi until he left.
“That man is fine.”
“Please don’t.”
“He’s terrifying, but fine.”
“He shot somebody in front of me.”
“That reduces the appeal.”
“Only reduces?”
“I’ve been single for four years. My standards are experiencing technical difficulties.”
I pulled her into the conservatory and told her everything.
The money. Bishop. Kenzie. The key. Grandma Evelyn’s connection to the Devereaux family.
By the end, Imani had both hands pressed against her forehead.
“I told you that girl was trouble.”
“Yes.”
“I told you the money was suspicious.”
“Yes.”
“I told you not to take the trip.”
“We never made it to the trip.”
“That isn’t the victory you think it is.”
A security guard entered.
“Ms. Bennett, Mr. Devereaux is ready for you.”
“Tell Mr. Devereaux I’m busy.”
Malachi appeared behind him.
“I heard you.”
“That saves time.”
His eyes moved toward Imani.
“I arranged the call with Nasir.”
Everything else stopped mattering.
We followed him into the conservatory. A laptop had been placed on the table.
Nasir’s face appeared on the screen.
He wore a green prison uniform, but he looked unharmed.
“Jay?”
“Oh my God.”
I sat in front of the computer.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m straight.”
“Where are you?”
“They moved me. Nobody will tell me where.”
Malachi stood near the door.
I looked back at him.
He nodded once.
“You’re somewhere safe,” I told Nasir.
“What happened to your face?”
“Nothing.”
“Don’t lie.”
“I’m fine. What did Bishop say to you?”
Nasir looked beyond the camera.
“They told me I shouldn’t talk about it.”
“Who told you?”
“Some lawyer.”
Asha stepped into view on his side of the screen.
“I’m the lawyer.”
I blinked.
Malachi’s sister had traveled to the facility during the night.
Asha looked exhausted but alert.
“Your brother is protected by attorney-client privilege,” she said. “He can tell us everything.”
Nasir explained that Bishop had asked about a wooden box Grandma Evelyn kept inside her bedroom closet. The box had disappeared after her funeral.
I remembered it immediately.
Dark wood. Gold corners. A tiny lock on the front.
Grandma called it her memory box.
“Where is it?” Nasir asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Mom might.”
The possibility left me cold.
My mother had returned for the funeral, remained long enough to learn what she inherited, and disappeared again.
She had taken several boxes from Grandma’s room.
“Have you spoken to Rochelle?” Imani asked.
“Not in months.”
Malachi took out his phone.
“What’s her address?”
“I’m not telling you where my mother lives.”
“I already know where she lives.”
“Then why did you ask?”
“Courtesy.”
“You need to practice harder.”
Nasir laughed.
It was good to hear.
The call ended after Asha promised to keep him protected.
I turned toward Malachi.
“Thank you.”
He inclined his head.
It was the first time I had offered him anything that wasn’t an insult.
He appeared more comfortable with the insults.
A man entered carrying my damaged tablet inside an evidence bag.
“We recovered this from the studio.”
I stood.
“You found it?”
“The fire stayed near the front,” Malachi said. “Most of your equipment suffered smoke and water damage, but the building remains standing.”
Relief loosened something inside me.
“Can it be repaired?”
The man opened the bag.
“It still works.”
I unlocked the tablet and pulled up the sneaker design.
Malachi came closer but stopped before entering my space.
“May I?”
The question surprised me.
I handed him the tablet.
The design contained twelve symbols hidden among the constellations. Malachi enlarged one and compared it to the key.
“They match,” he said.
“I copied them exactly.”
“Did Kenzie provide the full design?”
“She sent the symbols and asked me to arrange them.”
“How did you decide where each one went?”
“The stars.”
“What stars?”
“I placed them inside constellations based on their shapes.”
He handed the tablet to a younger man wearing glasses.
“That’s Micah,” Malachi said. “My brother.”
“I can introduce myself,” Micah replied. “I have social skills.”
Malachi stared at him.
“Limited social skills,” Micah amended.
He studied the design.
“These aren’t coordinates. They’re letters.”
“How?” I asked.
“The constellations provide the order. The reversed crest tells us which alphabet to use.”
He entered the symbols into his computer.
Letters appeared.
E V E L Y N K E P T T H E
“That’s incomplete,” I said.
“Because you didn’t finish the shoes,” Malachi replied.
“What was it supposed to say?”
“That’s what we need to discover.”
My phone vibrated.
Dozens of notifications crowded the screen.
Missed calls. Messages. Social-media alerts.
Imani opened one of the links.
Her face changed.
“Jayla.”
She turned the phone toward me.
Security footage showed Malachi carrying me from my studio while armed men followed us. The angle made it appear as if I were fighting him.
The headline read:
DEVERAUX CRIME BOSS ABDUCTS brOOKLYN DESIGNER CONNECTED TO MILLION-DOLLAR DATA THEFT
The article listed the payment from Bishop Consulting, Nasir’s conviction, and my grandmother’s employment with Devereaux Maritime.
My business accounts had been frozen.
The police had named me a person of interest.
Kenzie was reported missing.
“They think I helped steal the information.”
“Bishop released the story,” Malachi said.
“My clients will see this.”
“I’m more concerned about federal investigators.”
“I’m concerned about both!”
My entire life had been reduced to a headline.
Imani read further.
“They’re calling Kenzie an innocent whistleblower.”
“That lying—”
Zo? entered, and I swallowed the rest.
Malachi closed the article.
“My attorneys will deal with the investigation.”
“Your name is making this worse.”
“My name is the only reason they haven’t arrested you.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“Innocence and evidence are not the same.”
I paced across the conservatory.
My business was frozen. My brother had been threatened. My best friend had disappeared after using me. Now every news station in New York believed I was involved with a criminal family.
“What am I supposed to do?”
Malachi looked at Dorian.
Dorian shook his head.
“No.”
“What?” I asked.
Malachi remained quiet.
“Somebody needs to tell me what the two of you are discussing without me.”
Dorian sighed.
“There’s one explanation for why Crown was at your studio before the attack and why his security moved your family.”
“He came for the key.”
“We can’t tell the public that.”
“What lie do you want to tell?”
Malachi’s eyes held mine.
“That I came for you.”
My stomach shifted.
“What does that mean?”
“The press already believes we’re connected,” he said. “We control how.”
Imani looked between us.
“You want people to think they’re dating.”
“Not dating,” Dorian corrected.
Malachi’s expression told me I wouldn’t like the next word.
“Engaged,” he said.
I laughed.
Nobody else did.
“You’re serious?”
“It would explain the payment, my presence at the studio, and why your family is under my protection.”
“The money came from Bishop.”
“My company can announce that it commissioned the shoes through a third party.”
“You want me to lie to federal investigators?”
“No. Only to the public. My attorneys will handle the truth privately.”
“And what do you get?”
“Access to the key and your help finishing the cipher.”
“You already have both.”
“Do I?”
I touched the key inside my pocket.
No. He didn’t.
Malachi stepped closer.
“Bishop needs you isolated. The public believing you belong beside me makes approaching you more difficult.”
“Belong?”
“Poor choice of words.”
“Terrible choice.”
His jaw tightened.
“This is protection, not ownership.”
“For how long?”
“Until we recover the archive and prove you had nothing to do with the theft.”
“And if I refuse?”
“You remain here while my attorneys fight the investigation.”
“You won’t throw me outside?”
“No.”
“You won’t give my brother back to the people threatening him?”
His eyes became cold.
“Never.”
That answer came too quickly to be a lie.
I looked at Imani.
“Don’t look at me,” she said. “I told you not to accept the money.”
Helpful.
I turned back to Malachi.
“If I agree, there will be rules.”
“I expected that.”
“Separate bedrooms.”
“Yes.”
“You don’t touch me without asking.”
His gaze sharpened, but he nodded.
“My family stays protected.”
“Yes.”
“My studio gets repaired.”
“Yes.”
“And you tell me everything you learn about my grandmother.”
Malachi hesitated.
“Everything that doesn’t place you in further danger.”
“No. Everything.”
“That may not be possible.”
“Then neither is the engagement.”
We stared at each other.
He was accustomed to obedience.
I had spent too much of my life letting other people make choices for me.
“Fine,” he said.
“Fine?”
“Everything.”
I removed the key from my pocket and placed it in his palm.
His fingers closed around it.
“Congratulations,” I muttered. “You’re temporarily engaged.”
For the second time that night, Malachi Devereaux smiled.
It was brief, dangerous, and unfairly handsome.
“Congratulations to you too, fiancée.”
I already regretted this.