Chapter 12
Chapter twelve
"Merge"
Isat in bed, the phone screen lighting up for the third time. My father’s name flashed across the screen like a threat… one I kept choosing to ignore.
I didn’t answer… I couldn’t.
It had been six weeks since I stormed out of that doctor’s office after learning Zonnique couldn’t carry my child.
Six long, quiet, pride-eating weeks, and I still hadn’t come up with a solution.
Every option felt insulting in its own way.
A surrogate?
That was practically marrying a stranger.
Sleep with some random woman and hope for the best?
Worse.
That child would still come from somebody I didn’t know… somebody who meant nothing to me beyond biology.
Adopt?
My father would laugh me straight out the Belvior bloodline meeting and probably disown me before dessert was served.
I rubbed my temple and exhaled heavily, eyes bloodshot from another night of drinking.
My once razor-sharp discipline had dulled, worn down by pressure, expectation, and the growing realization that time was no longer on my side.
My liquor shelf was half-empty, and so was my patience for myself, life, and hope.
I hadn’t spoken to Zonnique since the day she called and told me the procedure hadn’t worked. I cut her off immediately afterward.
No explanation.
No room for guilt, sympathy, or apologies.
At the time, hearing her voice felt like pouring salt into an already open wound.
In my mind, the throne was slipping further away by the day.
My fingers clenched the edge of the comforter.
Just then, my phone buzzed again.
Unknown number that time.
I frowned at the screen and ignored it, assuming my father had switched phones to get around my silence.
A second call came immediately after.
I ignored that one too.
Then a third, relentless.
I snatched the phone, already irritated. “Yeah!”
“Merge, please don’t hang up! I just… I need to talk to you.”
Zonnique.
My finger hovered over the red button.
“Unless you miraculously became pregnant with my child, we have nothing to talk about.”
“I found an alternative!” she blurted quickly, like she could hear my patience thinning through the phone. “I can’t go into detail over the phone, but it’s real… no games. Can we just meet?”
Silence stretched between us.
“Please,” she added softly, her voice shaky with what sounded dangerously close to desperation. “Just one meeting. That’s all I’m asking.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose, jaw tightening hard enough to ache.
“One hour. Come to the house.”
I hung up before she could respond.
The phone landed on the bed while I pushed myself up and headed toward the shower, exhaustion weighing heavier than usual in my bones.
My thoughts moved faster than the hot water warming behind the walls.
What’s her angle this time?
How the hell did she find a solution to something I couldn’t?
Whatever she has to say better be worth my time, because I’m running out of options… and patience.
***
The deep, custom door chime echoed through the house right on schedule.
I took a slow sip from the glass in my hand before setting it down beside me. Ice clinked sharply against crystal, the sound bouncing through the otherwise silent room.
For a moment, I didn’t move, I just listened.
I already hated that Zonnique was coming, but curiosity had gotten the better of me.
A second later, the butler opened the door.
Two sets of footsteps entered: one I recognized immediately, the other was lighter, slower, and too comfortable for somebody stepping into my house for the first time.
My irritation flared instantly.
The moment I stepped into the foyer, I knew some bullshit was waiting on me.
Zonnique had that familiar guilty look plastered across her face that she wore right before terrible ideas revealed themselves. Beside her stood a woman I’d never seen before in my life, who was looking entirely too calm for my liking.
My hand moved before my thoughts fully caught up. I pulled out my gun smoothly and aimed it between both of them.
“Who the fuck is this?” I demanded to know, my eyes slowly scanning the stranger from head to toe.
Zonnique straightened quickly, fingers twisting together anxiously. “Merge, please! Let me explain first!”
I stared at her coldly.
What really captured my attention wasn’t Zonnique panicking and trying to plead her case; it was the woman beside her doing the exact opposite.
She was smiling at me with the kind of excitement people usually reserved for family, lovers…
or celebrities. She didn’t even flinch at the sight of the gun.
No screaming.
No backing away.
No “oh my God!”
Instead of fear, she looked at me almost fondly, as if that was some long-awaited reunion and not me standing there with a gun pointed directly at her.
Yeah… nah. Something about this ain’t normal.
“Mr. Belvior,” the stranger greeted me happily, stepping forward with entirely too much familiarity. “It’s so nice to finally—”
“Back up!” I ordered.
My voice cracked through the foyer so fast security reacted before she could take another step.
One of my men immediately moved between us, extending an arm across her path.
“Ma’am, stop right there!” he warned firmly. “Give him space.”
Another positioned himself slightly closer behind me out of instinct.
Surprise shifted across the other woman’s face… then offense. It was as if she genuinely couldn’t understand why she wasn’t being welcomed with open arms.
She had a slim frame and pretty brown skin that practically glowed beneath the chandelier lighting.
Her hair was cut short, soft, dark, and laid perfectly around her face, reminding me of Jada Pinkett back in the day.
Something about the look made her seem delicate and dangerous at the same time.
Her lips were full, and her eyes were big and expressive, moving carefully around the room like she was trying to figure out exactly what kind of situation she had stepped into.
Hell… I was too.
My eyes lingered on her longer than they should’ve.
Something about her felt familiar… not in memory exactly, more like energy. It was like my body recognized something my mind couldn’t place. It was strange enough to irritate me further.
The girl’s expression tightened briefly before smoothing back over.
“I got this,” I muttered finally, motioning security back.
Reluctantly, they stepped away.
I turned back toward Zonnique slowly.
“You want me to hear you out, yet you thought bringing a random woman to my fuckin’ house without warning me first was smart?
” I asked, staring at her like stupidity had finally grown legs and walked through my front door.
“This is the same shit I had to check yo’ ass about the last time you popped up at my crib unannounced.
Zonnique, you know I value my privacy. Half the people in this city don’t even know where I live.
” I pointed at her. “Hell, every morning I wake up wishing you could be added back to that list.”
I stepped closer, watching the panic rise in her face.
Zonnique visibly flinched. Again, the other woman didn’t.
“You don’t sleep here. You don’t pay bills here.
You don’t receive mail here. You ain’t got a drawer, a toothbrush, a house shoe, or one damn grocery item in my refrigerator.
” I looked around slowly. “There is absolutely nothing in this house that belongs to you but the oxygen you’ve already wasted.
And somehow, with all that lack of authority, you still woke up this morning and decided you had the right to escort a complete stranger into my home like you work for the damn tourism board. ”
“She’s not a stranger,” Zonnique tried.
“To me, she is. And since this is my house, that’s the only definition that matters.”
My eyes narrowed as I looked between the two women.
“What exactly about me gives ‘warm hospitality’? Do I look approachable? Friendly? Like the type of nigga who enjoys surprise guests and keeps cookies by the door?”
Neither of them answered.
“No, seriously. Walk me through the thought process slowly. Use small words if you need to. I’m trying to understand what level of delusion led you to this decision and how you managed to convince yourself it wouldn’t end with somebody getting escorted out by force.
Did somebody dare you? Did you hit your head before you left home?
Mix liquor with medication? Were you recently dropped by an elevator?
Did you pray about this first and God said, ‘Yes, daughter, take that strange woman to Merge’s house without informing him first’? ”
Zonnique folded her arms. “You’re doing too much.”
“I’m not doing enough. If I was doing too much, there’d already be tire marks from where I dragged both of y’all back down the driveway.”
The woman beside her pressed her lips together, almost like she was fighting a smile.
I caught it.
“And you,” I said, turning toward her. “Don’t laugh. You’re standing in a house you weren’t invited to, beside a woman whose decision-making skills are currently under federal review.”
Zonnique rolled her eyes. “Can you just calm down and let me explain?”
“I am calm,” I replied. “This is me exercising restraint. The louder version of this conversation involves security, handcuffs, and somebody losing a heel on the way out.”
Ol’ girl’s eyes bounced between us before a soft laugh escaped her.
“Okay, so wait…” she chimed in, sounding genuinely confused. “Y’all don’t live together?”
“Hell nah!” I shot back immediately. “And I know damn well she didn’t tell you that. So whatever picture she painted for you on the ride over here, gone head and throw the whole canvas away.”
“I never told her we stayed together!” Zonnique quickly cleared up. “I guess she just assumed because of the… engagement.”
“What damn engagement?!” I snapped.
Zonnique’s face crumbled with embarrassment. I could practically see the regret settling into her bones as she realized that conversation wasn’t going anywhere near how she imagined it would.