Chapter 14 Prime
PRIME
I’d dropped Yusef off at school an hour ago, watched him walk through those double doors, then headed straight downtown.
The drive gave me time to think—about Zainab confronting her father today, about Zoo sniffing around, about all the threats circling us like vultures waiting for something to die.
By the time I pulled into the underground garage at Banks Reserve headquarters, my head was swimming. But I pushed it down. Compartmentalized. That’s what I did. Handle what’s in front of you, worry about the rest later.
The conference room was already full when I walked in.
Quest was at the head of the table looking like the CEO he was—tailored suit, fresh lineup, that quiet authority that made people sit up straighter when he entered a room.
Justice was to his right, laptop open, already running through numbers.
A few other executives filled the remaining seats—AJ from Operations, Mia from Marketing, two guys from Legal whose names I could never remember.
“There he is,” Quest said as I took my seat. “Thought you might be late.”
“Traffic.” I poured myself a glass of water from the pitcher in the center of the table. “What’d I miss?”
“Nothing yet. Still waiting on the event planners.” Quest checked his watch. “They should be here in ten. We’re discussing the casino groundbreaking and the holiday party. Combining them into one event.”
Made sense. Banks Reserve didn’t do anything small. If we were breaking ground on a casino, we were gonna make sure everybody who mattered knew about it.
“Speaking of which,” Quest continued, leaning back in his chair. “We need to talk about the guest list. Vivica has to be there.”
I felt my jaw tighten. “Why?”
“Because she’s the mayor. And we’re about to break ground on a major development project in her city. Having her there, supporting it publicly, is good optics. Good business.”
“Just keep that bitch away from me.”
“I’m aware.” Quest’s expression didn’t change. “But business is business. We can hate her in private and smile for the cameras in public. That’s how this works.”
He wasn’t wrong. That was exactly how this worked. Didn’t mean I had to like it.
“Fine,” I said. “Whatever. It’s your call.”
The conference room door opened before Quest could respond.
And in walked Farah.
She was wearing a cream-colored pantsuit that hugged every curve, her weave in long waves down her back, makeup flawless.
Professional on the surface, but I knew better.
Everything about her was calculated—the way she walked, the way she smiled, the way her eyes found mine immediately and lingered a beat too long.
“Good morning, everyone,” she said, her voice all sunshine and professionalism. “I’m Farah with Dynasty Event Planning. Thank you so much for choosing us for your holiday celebration.”
She had an assistant trailing behind her—some young girl with a tablet who looked nervous—but Farah commanded the room like she owned it. Passed out folders. Made small talk with the executives. Worked the table like she belonged there.
Like she belonged here. In my family’s company. In my space.
When she got to me, she paused.
“Prime.” She smiled, all teeth. “So good to see you again. How’s the penthouse? I still think about how beautiful those finishes turned out.”
I felt the other executives’ eyes on us. Curious. Wondering about the history behind that comment.
She was trying to mark her territory but I just replied with, “It’s a’ight.”
“Just a’ight?” She tilted her head, that smile never wavering. “We spent weeks picking out those fixtures. The custom millwork alone took a month to install. I thought you’d be more enthusiastic.”
“Time is money, Farah. Get to the party. That’s what we’re paying you for.”
I wished my brothers gave me a heads up about which company they were using but then again, they wouldn’t have known that Farah worked for them. They didn’t know shit about her.
The meeting lasted an hour. Budget discussions. Venue options. Catering preferences. Guest list parameters. Farah handled it all with practiced ease, asking the right questions, making the right suggestions, acting every bit the professional event planner.
But every few minutes, her eyes would drift back to me. Checking. Watching. Waiting for something I wasn’t gonna give her.
When it finally ended, people started gathering their things, filtering out of the room. I stood to leave, already thinking about checking my phone for Zainab’s texts.
“Prime, wait.”
I turned. Farah was standing there, folder clutched to her chest, that professional mask slipping into something more personal.
“Can I talk to you for a second? Privately?”
“We don’t have anything to talk about.”
“Please.” She glanced around at the lingering executives. “Just two minutes.”
I should’ve walked away. But I wanted this handled. Done. Final.
“Two minutes,” I said.
I walked down the hall toward an empty office. She followed, heels clicking against the marble. When we were inside, I turned to face her, arms crossed.
“Talk.”
“I wanted to apologize,” she started. “For what happened at the gala. The way I reacted when I saw you with her—”
“The panties.”
She blinked. “What?”
“Those panties you left under my bed. I should break your neck for that shit.”
Something flickered across her face. Guilt? Satisfaction? Both?
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, but her lips were curving into a smile. “But if some panties happened to end up in your bedroom…” She stepped closer, voice dropping. “It was probably from that night, I stayed at your place. You know the night you were hellbent on rescuing me?”
“I did that out of obligation. Next time, I won’t be so kind.”
“Oh, come on, Prime.” Another step closer. “Don’t be like that. We’ve known each other for years. You really gonna act like there’s nothing between us?”
“There isn’t.”
“Liar.” She reached up, her fingers brushing against one of my locs. “I see the way you—”
I grabbed her wrist. Hard. Stopping her cold.
“Don’t,” I said quietly. “Touch me.”
But instead of fear, something else bloomed across her face. Her eyes went half-lidded. Her breath caught. Her lips parted.
“There he is,” she whispered, voice breathy. “I knew the real Prime was in there somewhere. Behind all that control.” She leaned closer, not pulling away from my grip. “You like it rough. I can do rough.”
I released her wrist like it burned me. Stepped back.
“You need help,” I said. “Professional help. Whatever you think this is, it’s not real. It’s obsession.”
The softness disappeared from her face. Replaced by something harder.
“My daddy said you’ve been distant lately,” she said, her voice shifting. “He’s noticed how different you are because of that girl.”
The mention of Rashid made my spine stiffen. She clocked it.
“That’s what I thought.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “You’re so worried about protecting your little pastry chef that you forgot who really matters in this world.”
“Is that a threat?”
“It’s an observation.” She smoothed down her pantsuit. “Enjoy her while you can, Prime. Some things aren’t meant to last.”
She walked past me toward the door. Paused with her hand on the handle.
“I’ll send over the final event proposal by end of week. Let me know if you have any questions.”
Then she was gone.
I stood there, heart pounding harder than I wanted to admit. What the fuck did she mean by that? Was that just bitter energy, or did she actually know something?
The door opened again.
Quest poked his head in. “Yo. You good?”
“Yeah. Fine.”
“What was that about?” He walked in, closing the door. “She looked like she wanted to eat you alive in that meeting.”
“She’s been on me for years.”
“So why won’t you hit? She’s fine as hell and clearly down.”
“Zero interest.”
“Since when?”
“Since you’ve been Rashid's daughters.
Quest’s eyebrows rose. A slow grin spread across his face. “Oh shit. You still riding for that girl? The one we had to do a clean up for?”
I didn’t answer. Which was answer enough.
Quest laughed, shaking his head. “Damn. Prentice Banks, in love. Never thought I’d see the day.”
Neither did I. I’d spent my whole life keeping people at arm’s length. And then Zainab walked her stubborn, beautiful, complicated ass into my life and dismantled every defense I had.
“You should bring her to the holiday party,” Quest said. “Introduce her to the family properly.”
“Why? So y’all can scare her off?”
“No.” Justice appeared in the doorway. “So Grandma Rita can approve.”
I laughed. “What does it matter? Rita didn’t approve of Quest’s two women and he’s still with them.”
“That’s different.” Quest grinned. “Rita just doesn’t trust any woman who would agree to share a man. Says it goes against nature.”
“Your life is a mess,” I said.
“My life is full. There’s a difference.”
We laughed, and for a second, things felt normal.
But Farah’s words were still rattling around in my head. Some things aren’t meant to last.
“I gotta go,” I said, heading for the door.
The second I was in my car, I pulled out my phone. No new texts from Zainab.
I opened Find My and pulled up her location. The dot showed her at Johns Hopkins Hospital. Still there.
I checked the tracker on the Acura I’d let her borrow. Same location. Parked in the hospital garage.
She was still inside.
My fingers hovered over the screen. I wanted to call her. Wanted to hear her voice.
But I’d promised to let her do this alone.
So I put the phone down. Started the car. And drove toward home to wait.
But I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was coming.
Something none of us were ready for.