Chapter 10 Prime
PRIME
Zainab was in the kitchen when I came downstairs, phone pressed between her ear and shoulder, scribbling something on a notepad while she talked.
Sweet Zin was taking off. Ever since the gala, her phone had been ringing nonstop. Word of mouth was a beautiful thing, especially in DC where everybody knew everybody, and a good recommendation spread like wildfire.
“Okay, thank you so much. I’ll be in touch.” She hung up and let out a breath, adding another line to her growing list of orders. “That’s the fourth call this morning. I might actually need to hire somebody.”
“Told you.” I walked over and kissed her forehead. “You’re about to be booked and busy.”
“From your lips to God’s ears.” She looked up at me, studying my face. “You okay? You seem tense.”
I was tense. Had been since my phone buzzed last night and I saw Serenity’s name on the screen. A group text to me, Quest, and Justice: Family meeting tomorrow. Banks Reserve offices. 10 AM. Be there.
Serenity calling a meeting was unusual. Serenity calling a meeting after weeks of barely speaking to us was alarming.
“I’m good,” I said. “Gotta handle some family business this morning. Drop Yusef off at school first, then head to the offices.”
“Everything okay?”
“We’ll see.” I grabbed my keys from the counter. “I’ll be back this afternoon. You need anything before I go?”
She shook her head, but I could see the worry in her eyes. She knew me well enough by now to know when something was off.
“Just be careful,” she said.
“Always.”
I kissed her one more time—longer this time, deeper—then headed upstairs to get Yusef.
Banks Reserve occupied the top three floors of a sleek glass tower in downtown DC.
Quest had picked the location himself when he took over as CEO years after our father died. Said he wanted something that represented the future of the company—modern, sophisticated, a far cry from the smoky back rooms where Alexander Banks had built his empire.
The lobby was all marble and chrome, with a massive wall displaying bottles of our premium spirits behind museum-quality glass.
Banks Reserve Cognac. Banks Reserve Whiskey.
Banks Reserve Vodka. Every bottle a work of art, every label dripping with the legacy our father had built and our generation had expanded.
I nodded at the security guard—Tony, been with the company for fifteen years—and headed for the private elevator that went directly to the executive floor.
Quest and Justice were already in the conference room when I walked in.
Quest was at the head of the table, looking every bit the CEO in his tailored suit and fresh lineup.
He’d inherited our father’s business mind and our mother’s ruthlessness—a combination that made him dangerous in the boardroom and deadly outside of it.
At thirty-eight, he’d grown Banks Reserve from a regional spirit brand to an international powerhouse, with the casino project about to take us even higher.
Justice sat to his right, more casual in slacks and a button-down, his gold watch catching the light every time he moved.
He was the CFO—the numbers guy, the one who made sure every dollar was accounted for and every deal was airtight.
Also the family man, with his daughters Storie and Dream, the only one of us who’d managed to build something stable outside of business.
“About time,” Quest said as I took a seat across from Justice. “Serenity’s not here yet?”
“She called the meeting,” I said. “She’ll show.”
“You talked to her recently?” Justice asked.
“Nah. She’s been ghost since…” I didn’t need to finish the sentence. We all knew what since meant. Since we cut off her husband’s finger for cheating on her with her best friend.
“She’s been avoiding all of us,” Quest said, jaw tight. “Won’t return calls. Won’t come to Sunday dinner. Grandma’s worried sick.”
“Can you blame her?” Justice leaned back in his chair. “Y’all handled that whole Julius situation without even telling her. Took her choice away.”
“Her choice was to stay married to a nigga who was fucking her best friend,” Quest shot back. “We did her a favor.”
In a matter of moments, Serenity walked in.
She looked different. Thinner than the last time I’d seen her, like she hadn’t been eating right. Dark circles under her eyes that her makeup couldn’t quite hide. But she was dressed sharp—designer pantsuit, heels, hair laid—like she was going into battle and wanted to look good doing it.
“Hey, sis,” Justice said, standing to greet her.
She held up a hand, stopping him. “Sit down. This isn’t a social visit.”
Justice froze, then slowly lowered himself back into his chair.
Quest’s eyes narrowed. “What’s going on, Serenity?”
She walked to the opposite end of the table from Quest and stood there, hands clasped in front of her like she was about to deliver a presentation. Which, I realized, she probably was.
“Thank you for coming. I know I’ve been distant. I know you’ve all been worried. And I appreciate that. I do. I called this meeting because I have some things to say, and I need you all to listen without interrupting. Can you do that?”
We exchanged glances—me, Quest, Justice—then nodded.
“Good.” She took a breath. “First, I want to apologize. For shutting you out. For not returning your calls. For missing Sunday dinners. I know Grandma Rita’s been upset, and I’m sorry for that.”
“Second,” she continued, “I need you to understand something. What you did to Julius—what you did without telling me, without asking me—it broke something. Not just in my marriage. In me. In how I see this family.”
“Serenity, we were trying to protect you,” Quest said.
“I said NO INTERRUPTING.” Her voice cracked on the last word, and I saw it—the pain underneath the armor she was wearing.
“You were trying to protect me? From what? From my own decisions? From my own marriage? I’m not a child anymore.
I’m a grown-ass woman who’s been sheltered and controlled my entire life.
First by Vivica, who shipped me off to boarding school to keep me ‘safe’ from all the family drama.
Then by you three, who still treat me like I’m twelve years old and can’t handle the truth. ”
She was pacing now, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor.
“You want to know what Julius being unfaithful cost me? Besides my marriage? Besides my dignity?” She stopped, and when she looked at us, her eyes were wet. “I was pregnant.”
The words hit like a punch to the chest.
“I found out a few weeks before everything happened,” she continued, her voice trembling now. “I was going to tell Julius. Was going to surprise him with the news. And then y’all took him to that warehouse and everything fell apart.”
We all shook our heads. We never meant to cause that shit.
“The stress caused me to miscarry.” A single tear slid down her cheek, but she didn’t wipe it away.
“I lost my baby. While my husband was recovering from having his finger cut off by my own brothers. While my best friend was being banished from my life. While everyone was making decisions about MY life without asking ME.”
I felt sick. Actually physically sick.
“And you know what the real kicker is?” She laughed, but there was no humor in it. “I just found out that Ivy is pregnant. With Julius’s baby. So she gets to have the child that should have been mine.”
Nobody spoke. What could we say? We’d thought we were protecting her. Thought we were doing the right thing. But we’d broken her instead.
“That’s why I’ve been drinking,” she said, answering a question none of us had the courage to ask. “That’s why I’ve been distant. That’s why I couldn’t look any of you in the face. Because every time I do, I see the men who took my choices away. Just like Vivica always did.”
“Serenity, I’m so sorry.” Quest’s voice was rough. Broken. I’d never heard him sound like that. “We didn’t know. If we’d known—”
“You would’ve what? Asked my permission before you tortured my husband?” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter now. What’s done is done. But I refuse to let it define me. I refuse to keep being the sheltered little sister who needs protecting.”
She straightened her spine, and I watched the vulnerability disappear behind that hard mask again.
“Which brings me to why I called this meeting. I’m resigning as Banks Reserve’s accountant.”
Quest shot to his feet. “What?”
“Effective immediately. I’ve already drafted my letter of resignation and handed over all the files to the backup team.”
“Serenity, you can’t just—”
“I can. And I am.” She held up a hand. “But that’s not all. I’ve accepted a position elsewhere. Better pay. More responsibility. A chance to build something on my own, outside of the Banks name. I’m not even a Banks to begin with.”
“Where?” I asked.
She met my eyes. “Brick City Crew.”
The silence that followed was deafening.
Quest looked like he might have a stroke. Justice’s mouth was hanging open. And me? I felt like the floor had just dropped out from under my feet.
“Brick City Crew,” Quest repeated slowly, like he was hoping he’d heard wrong. “The crime syndicate. THAT Brick City Crew.”
“They need an accountant. A good one. And they’re willing to pay three times what I was making here.”
“Serenity, do you have any idea what you’re getting yourself into?” Justice was on his feet now too. “BCC isn’t some corporate gig. These are dangerous people. Killers. Drug dealers. The kind of people our father used to run with before he went legit.”
“I know exactly what they are.” Her voice was calm.
Too calm. “Your father built his fortune running with people like them so that he could grow Banks Reserve. You think I don’t know the family history?
You think I’m that naive? And what they do isn’t all that different from y’all.
Your dirt is just dressed up in a corporate facade. ”
“Then you know what happens to people who make mistakes with their money,” I said quietly. “One wrong number. One misplaced decimal. And they don’t fire you, Serenity. They bury you.”
“Is that a threat?”
“It’s a fact.” I stood, walking toward her.
“BCC is run by somebody they call Shadow. Nobody knows who he really is except the top lieutenants. Not even the lower-level soldiers. You’d be walking into an organization where you don’t know who’s really in charge, handling money for people who kill first and ask questions never. ”
“I appreciate your concern.” Her tone made it clear she didn’t appreciate it at all. “But I’m a grown woman making my own decision. For once in my life.”
“This isn’t about treating you like a child,” Quest said, his voice rising. “This is about keeping you alive!”
“No, this is about control!” She finally snapped, all that composure cracking. “This is about you three not being able to handle the fact that I’m doing something you don’t approve of! Something you can’t manage or manipulate or ‘protect’ me from!”
“Serenity—”
“I’m DONE being protected!” Tears were streaming down her face now, but her voice was strong.
Fierce. “I’m done being the baby sister who gets shipped off to boarding school while you three handle ‘family business.’ I’m done being kept in the dark.
I’m done being controlled. By Vivica. By you. By ANYONE.”
She grabbed her purse from the table and headed for the door.
“If BCC wanted to hurt me, they would’ve done it already. They approached ME. They want my skills. My expertise. And for the first time in my life, someone is valuing me for what I can do, not who I’m related to.”
“Serenity, wait—” Justice reached for her arm.
She pulled away. “Don’t. Just… don’t.” She paused at the door, looking back at us. “I love you. All of you. You’re my brothers, and nothing will ever change that. But I need to do this. I need to be my own person. And if you can’t respect that… then maybe we need some distance.”
“If you make one mistake with their money,” I said, my voice hard, “I might have to kill somebody to save you. You understand that? You’re putting ME in a position where I might have to start a war to protect you.”
She held my gaze for a long moment. “Then I guess I better not make any mistakes.”
The door closed behind her.
For a long moment, none of us moved. Just stood there, staring at the space where our baby sister had been, trying to process what the fuck had just happened.
“This is bad,” Justice said finally. “This is really, really bad.”
“You think?” Quest slammed his palm on the table. “She just walked into the lion’s den and we can’t do a damn thing about it!”
I stood there, my mind racing.
BCC was run by somebody called Shadow. A ghost. Nobody knew who he really was—not the low-level soldiers, not the street niggas, not even most of the lieutenants. Just a name that made people move right when he gave orders. The kind of power that stayed powerful because it stayed hidden.
And now my baby sister was about to be handling that man’s money.
I’d have to watch her. Quietly. Without her knowing. Put some eyes on her movements, figure out who she was reporting to, map out the players involved.
And if anybody—Shadow, his lieutenants, anybody—tried to hurt my sister?
War it was.