13. Serena #2
I pulled myself away from him, trying to place the coldness back into my veins. Laurene, with surprising strength, pulled me into a tight hug.
“You look amazing, Lu,” Miles told her.
Laurene sucked her teeth. “Don’t lie to me, Miles. I’m huge, I’m wearing flats, and this dress is working harder than you ever have in life. But I appreciate the compliment.”
“Can’t lie to a pretty lady.” Miles grinned.
“Flats?” I added my two cents, raising an eyebrow and crossing my arms. “Don’t let Gigi see. You know what she did to your closet when she found corduroy in it.”
“Oh, trust me, she’s already cursed me out,” Laurene replied, her grin spreading wider. “But when your ankles are the size of cantaloupes, the Gianvito Rossis get a well-deserved vacation.”
Reese raised a brow, glancing between us with a weird look in his eye. “So…both of you. Here. Alive. How’s it going?”
Laurene hit him on the shoulder, giving him a look.
“What?”
We did that sitcom thing where we looked at each other, then away, and I crossed my arms and shook my head.
Reese coughed awkwardly. “Okay… Come on, baby, I see someone we need to talk to.”
He dragged Laurene off, and I turned to Miles, but then I froze.
Jenese.
My worst fear had come to life. Jenese was with Gigi, laughing at something she said.
No.
She had no business being around my sister. Gigi didn’t know. She didn’t understand what kind of game she’d just stepped into.
What the fuck do I do?
I reached them just as Jenese was leaning in, tugging at the fabric of Gigi’s gown.
“Gigi.” I not so subtly snatched her by the arm, pulling her away from Jenese. The older woman raised a brow, and Gigi took her arm from me, looking at me like I was crazy.
“Who is this?” I said, not letting my eyes leave Jenese.
“Rena! This is Jenese,” Gigi chimed in, completely oblivious like she always was. “Did you know she’s wearing a Pam Grier gown from the ’70s? It’s vintage— iconic .” Jenese was draped in an emerald green silk dress with her wild Afro swept up into a high ponytail.
Jenese’s smile widened, her eyes glinting with satisfaction as Gigi fawned over her before she glared at me. “Oh, darling, it’s nothing. A little gem from the past , just like me.”
“Gigi, this isn’t someone you need to be getting close to.”
“Why?” Gigi looked at me like I was crazy. “You know her or something?”
Shit. No, no, no , I cursed in my mind. I’d slipped. I could feel Jenese’s eyes on me, that smug, knowing look creeping across her face.
“I don’t think we’ve met,” Jenese said, playing dumb.
“No, I just wanted to say—” I was scrambling for an answer, and Jenese just laughed.
“I’m new in town, just soaking up the atmosphere. I’m glad I ran into Gigi here. Apparently, she’s opening up a boutique? I know quite a few designers, and they’re always looking for a store with the right clothing and accessories?—”
“Boutique?” I glanced at Gigi.
“Yes! I got the idea last night. I’m opening up my own boutique.”
“You’re playing,” I said.
“Who said I’m playing?” She frowned at me. “Y’all always talkin’ about me not having a job. Not finishing college. I like clothes. I like shopping. I like money. It’s perfect for me.”
“Yes, why can’t she have a boutique?” Jenese asked. “She seems like a capable young woman.”
“Yeah, you right,” Gigi said, smiling at her and then glaring at me. “You never back me up.”
“I support everything you do,” I said.
“When?” She damn near snapped her neck as she looked at me sideways.
“It’s a shame, though, when family doesn’t support you, huh? Especially when you’re trying to make something of yourself.” Jenese looked pointedly at me. “Gigi’s got big plans, Serena. You should be proud of her.”
“I love how you’re all business, Jenese. You’re such a pro! Some people can learn from your professionalism.” She turned to me. “Can you imagine, Rena? Me? Taking over Rodeo Drive?”
I forced a smile, stepping forward taking Gigi by her arm, and yanking her over to me. I didn’t care to be subtle. “Let’s go. Mama wants us.”
“Let me give you my card, Gigi, and you reach out when you’re ready?—”
I snatched it before either of them could respond.
“Okay, weirdo.” Gigi gave me a disappointed look before smiling at Jenese. “You should come to Café L’Amour. We all hang out there. What do you think?”
“ No ,” I said, and they both looked at me, surprised. “That’s our tradition. Jenese is… I’m sure she’ll find herself in the right circles soon enough.”
“But—” Gigi started to protest.
“Mama is looking for you.”
Gigi made a face but looked at Jenese and shrugged. “Excuse me. Duty calls.”
I waited briefly, checking for family. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Jenese?”
“What do you mean, sugar?” she cooed, playing dumb with effortless ease. “I’m just getting to know Gigi. I’m new here, after all. And she’s so full of energy. A real breath of fresh air.”
“Cut the bullshit,” I snapped, my voice low but sharp. “You stay the fuck away from my family.”
She looked at me like I was being ridiculous. “Serena, you came to me because no one else took you seriously. Not even your own mother. Now you want to be mean?”
How did Jenese ever convince me to see her as a mentor?
It definitely wasn’t the row of cars in her driveway or the clothes or the fancy homes she had.
I was used to that. It was just her. She was an outsider too.
She told me how she’d fought for every inch of ground she stood on.
How no one handed her a damn thing. How she had to watch from the outside until she learned how to break the doors down herself.
“Where’s my property, Serena?”
“I told you. Paperwork.”
“Hmph. Did you read the manuscript?” Jenese waved me off. “You’re ignoring me. I don’t like to be ignored, sugar.”
Yes. And it was awful. Both in the writing and the truth.
But people wouldn’t care. They’d see my name, attach it to my family, and bam. Another King scandal.
“I was going to respond.”
She sucked her teeth. “Not fast enough. So now I’m here. And I’m going to need you to do a job for me.”
I needed time to clean this up. I needed to figure out what she actually wanted—because this wasn’t just about leverage. Jenese never played short-term. If I could stall, keep her close, I’d find a way to flip it.
I glanced around again. “Fine. What’s the job?”
“There’s a guy in the next town over who’s been a pain in my side for a while now. Alan Price. Runs a consultancy firm. Thinks he’s untouchable.” She smiled, but there was a bite to it. “Get some documents from him.”
“What kind of documents?” I asked, suspicious.
Jenese’s grin widened. “Oh, nothing too fancy. I just need to make him eager to negotiate with me.”
“How?”
She shook her head. “All you need to do it put a USB drive into his laptop. It’ll do the rest.”
That was too damn simple.
“I’ll do it. Send me the details,” I said, the words tasting like ash in my mouth. “Now get out.”
Her smile widened, the satisfaction in her eyes unmistakable.
“Good girl,” she purred.
Suddenly, the gallery doors flew open, and a bunch of environmental protesters began yelling and waving signs. Chaos erupted.
She started to walk toward the exit. “I wonder how they got in.”
Around us, guests recoiled in shock, their faces masks of confusion and fear as chants filled the air.
“Stop the destruction! Save our homes!” one of the protesters shouted, waving a sign that read “Stop the greenwashing!”
My mind started cataloging threats, exits, faces I didn’t recognize. My feet moved before I could stop them, heading straight for the protestors.
Another protester with a megaphone yelled, “Your company is ruining our environment! We won’t stand for it!”
A hand wrapped around my arm, firm but not rough, pulling me to a stop. “Serena.” Miles’s voice cut through the noise like velvet over steel—low, commanding, dangerously close.
“We need to do something,” I said firmly, my eyes scanning the scene. “I can’t let them ruin Laurene’s event.”
His breath grazed my ear, and despite the chaos around us, my pulse tripped for an entirely different reason.
“You need to stay out of this,” Miles said. “Let security do their damn job.”
“I can’t.” I tugged at my wrist, the rough fabric of his shirt scratching against my skin as I tried to escape his firm grip. “I can’t ruin this for Laurene.”
“Stop. I’m serious.”
He stepped in close, face inches from mine, his hand curling around my arm with quiet authority. Not enough to hurt. Just enough to remind me he was there. That he wasn’t going to let me go barreling into chaos without him.
“You’re not going over there. Don’t draw attention to yourself.” His gaze flicked to the protestors, then back to me. “We don’t need to make this worse.”
“Watch me,” I bit out.
I pulled myself away and headed into the fire.
“Excuse me!” I called out, my voice cutting through the noise.“If you have concerns, we can discuss them calmly. This is an event meant to celebrate art, not to turn into a battleground of opinions on false facts.”
One of the protesters shouted back, “You should be ashamed of yourself!”
“This is a misunderstanding,” I said coolly, stepping even closer. “Our goal has always been to bring progress, not destruction.”
“You think we’re just going to take your word for it?”
My jaw tightened. “I understand your frustration, but you’re misinformed. I have the reports to back it up.”
“Reports can be bought!” the protester retorted, his voice rising. “We’ve seen it happen before. Corporations like yours always find a way to twist the truth.”
“I’m not here to debate corporate ethics. You need to leave.”
The protestors were closing in, so I braced myself, but Miles stepped up and glared them down. “For fuck’s sake, Serena. Let security handle this.”
One of the protestors, his face twisted with fury, clutched a container of bright, vivid paint. I tried to pull Miles back, but he stood firm as a brick wall. The liquid splashed across his chest. Miles didn’t flinch. He remained motionless, the red paint dripping down from his face to his shoes.
Gasping, I recoiled with trembling hands as the crowd's chants grew frenzied.
“Security! Get these people out of here!” Laurene suddenly came forward, her voice sharp and piercing.
The security team surged forward, their boots pounding on the floor, pushing a wedge between us and the protesters. But that didn’t stop the chaos entirely. Some of the protesters were still fighting back, trying to make their point, while others were tackled to the ground as security closed in.
All of that was insignificant.
Not while Miles was still standing there drenched in paint.
I dragged my thumb slowly along the line of his cheekbone, and he tilted his head just slightly—like he wasn’t sure if I was touching him to clean him off or to memorize the shape of his face.
“Are you alright?” I asked. My voice was steady, even if everything else in me was not.
Miles nodded, and he let me tug him toward the back of the room. Security guided us toward another exit, but when I looked up, I saw Mama standing there.
Her chin high, arms folded, and eyes burning straight through me.
She didn’t speak. She didn’t have to. The slow shake of her head said it all.