Chapter Eighteen Eason Storm
I ain’t the type of nigga who plans shit. That ain’t never been me. I move off instinct, heat, and energy. And usually, that’s enough. But today had to be different.
Today wasn’t about flexing or control. This wasn’t about making a point or claiming what’s mine.
I’d already done that, stamped it, and burned it into every fucking corner of her life.
Today was about giving her something she didn’t even know she really needed, peace and joy.
A break from all the chaos this world kept throwing at her.
So before the sun even peeled itself off the skyline, I woke up to get shit in motion.
I made calls, pulled some strings, and threatened a few folks who had gotten slick with their timelines.
And by the time the house started stirring, by the time I heard Ginger’s little feet pattering against the hardwood floor and Nasir mumbling about cereal, everything was set.
I had a full day planned for the four of us.
We were hitting the zoo first. Then having lunch at this little tuck away spot she kept saying she missed but never took herself to.
And to wrap it all up, we were having a private rooftop picnic.
I’m talking blankets, soul food, slow music, and a skyline view.
All that corny and soft-ass romance shit I used to clown niggas for.
But this wasn’t about pride no more. This wasn’t about flexing; this wasn’t about me. This was about them. My woman, my son, my daughter, and my unborn seed. My fucking family and whole world. And today was about making sure they felt that.
Every second, breath, and heartbeat of the way I’d loved them. The way I’d die for them. The way I’d kill for them without a second thought.
“Are you finally gonna tell me where we’re going?” Xalori’s questioned softly with that pouty ass tone she used when she wanted to get her way.
I looked up just in time to see her glide down the stairs.
The yellow sundress she picked clung to her hips like it was painted on, her curls bouncing with each step like they had their own damn attitude.
She was always the last one to get ready, always running behind no matter how early I told her to get dressed.
But I stopped bitching about that shit the day I realized watching her get fine in real time was the best part of my damn day.
“I would tell you,” I said, biting back a grin, “but your slow ass moves like molasses. Them bad ass kids been sitting in the car waiting for you.”
She rolled her eyes, laughing softly as she reached the bottom step. “My kids are not bad, Eason. They’re just curious.”
As she turned to walk past, I reached down and grabbed a handful of her ass like it was my job. “Tell yourself whatever helps you sleep at night, mama,” I muttered against her ear, “but them kids bad as hell.”
She swatted at me playfully, still laughing as she stepped outside.
I followed her out, locking the door behind us and watching as Nasir tried to help Ginger buckle her car seat while she babbled about the flamingos she saw in a book last night.
My chest tightened as a smile slowly spread across my face at the sight.
This was it. This was mine. I didn’t know peace could look like this. I didn’t think I’d ever earn it. But somehow, against all odds, I got it. And I’d die before I let anybody take it away.
The car ride started off smoothly. Windows down, music low, Nas in the back narrating every tree and truck we passed like a damn nature documentary, and Ginger sat in her car seat kicking her feet while singing some made up ass song about juice and flamingos.
And then there was her.
Xalori was in the passenger seat with her bare legs crossed, one hand resting on the curve of her stomach and the other holding a cup of ice chips she refused to let go of.
She was silent for a minute, just watching and studying me.
Her ass had that look she got when her brain was moving faster than her mouth.
“What?” I finally asked.
“You sure you okay?”
I nodded once. “I’m better than okay.”
She narrowed her eyes, not believing me. “So, you’re not still pissed about everything with Sayani? Or Harmony? Or Prime?”
“Oh, I’m pissed,” I said calmly. “But right now, my only focus is y’all.”
She stared at me for a second longer, like she was trying to read between the lines of what I didn’t say, then leaned back in her seat.
“Good,” she said. “Because I just need one day of peace, one day to relax and bask in my newfound family.”
I reached over, grabbed her hand, and laced my fingers with hers. “You got it, Muffin.”
We hadn’t even made it through the zoo gates before the first camera flash damn near blinded me. There were like two or three reporters, ducking behind signs and fake ass bushes, snapping photos like they caught me doing something dirty.
My arm flew around Xalori and Ginger instantly as Nasir moved closer, his eyes wide as he clutched onto my hand tightly.
“What the fuck?” I muttered.
One of the reporters wasn’t even trying to hide. This nigga stepped out bold as hell, waving his phone like he just won a lawsuit.
“Mr. Storm, care to comment on the restraining order filed against you this morning?”
Without even blinking or asking, I reached out and snatched the phone from his hand. And there it was, photos of Harmony with fake tears in her eyes and a bold headline.
Exclusive: Eason Storm’s Estranged Wife Files Restraining Order, Claims Threats and Abuse
My vision turned red. My hand tightened around the reporter’s phone until the plastic casing cracked. Every part of me — every dark, savage part I tried to keep buried for my family’s sake — clawed its way to the surface.
“Eason,” Xalori’s voice cut through the fog, low and urgent.
Her hand pressed to my chest, grounding me before I snapped this motherfucker’s neck right here in broad daylight, cameras or not.
“This bitch playing with fire,” I muttered, the words punching through clenched teeth. I turned to the reporter, stepping into his space so fast he stumbled back. “You got five seconds to delete that shit before I show you what a real threat feel like.”
He backpedaled, stammering. “I—I was just doing my job.”
“Yeah, well now your job gon’ be finding a new fucking lens when I break that one!” I spat, my voice low and lethal.
I turned back to my family. The kids were confused and Xalori looked like she was two seconds away from blacking out right along with me.
Harmony filed a fucking restraining order. And had the nerve to push the narrative like I was out here putting my hands on women. I hope this bitch knew this was war and that bitch just invited herself into the crossfire.
The zoo trip was a wrap after that. Not because I canceled it, but because she did.
Xalori didn’t say a word. She just turned to the kids, voice soft but firm, using that protective mama tone she used when things were too heavy for their little minds to understand. “We’re not gonna see the animals today, babies. Something came up.”
Nas groaned but didn’t argue, that boy could feel the tension in the air and knew that it was best to leave things alone.
But Ginger on the other hand, her little mind didn’t understand why she was being denied the animals.
She just looked up at me with those big, grown eyes, chewing her bottom lip like she was trying to decide whether to cry or not.
I crouched down beside her and kissed her forehead. “It’s okay, princess. We’ll come back tomorrow. I’ll buy you a whole damn zoo if that’s what you want.”
She nodded, then tightly gripped Xalori’s hand like her tiny body already knew Mama was carrying something heavier than she could understand. That little girl had a way of knowing when people needed comfort.
Back at the truck, I slammed the door harder than I meant to, my jaw locked so tight it felt like I’d crack a damn molar.
The second we pulled out the parking lot, my phone blew up—notifications stacking like dominoes.
Nothing but gossip blogs and fake news filled my screen.
I even had a few fake-ass folks I hadn’t heard from in years texting like we were cool, asking if the rumors were true.
Rumors? Bitch, you mean setup.
Xalori’s silence in the passenger seat was louder than my breathing. Her jaw was tight, her arms crossed, but it wasn’t aimed at me. It was the same look she wore when she had to defend Nas at the school. When she was ready to go toe to toe with any and everything that threatened her peace.
“Why would she do this?” she asked finally, her voice razor-sharp, low.
I didn’t answer right away. Because I knew the real reason. And I knew she wasn’t ready to hear it.
Harmony ain’t give a damn about no marriage.
She didn’t want me. She wanted control. She wanted to prove to herself and anybody watching that she still held weight in my world.
That she could throw a grenade and watch me burn.
And now she was using the dirtiest trick in the book—flipping the narrative, painting herself as the victim in a story she fucking wrote.
“She’s not gonna stop,” Xalori muttered, her fingers tightening around her seatbelt. “This won’t be the last time she pulls some shit like this.”
I just gripped the wheel, knuckles bone-white, steering us out of the city and back toward the penthouse. My plans for lunch and the rooftop picnic were already up in flames. This wasn’t the time for soft moments. This was war. And I needed to regroup.
“She’s pokin’ a bear,” I finally said. “And she gon’ find out exactly what happens when you wake him the fuck up.”
Xalori didn’t argue, didn’t calm me down, and didn’t beg me to let it go. She just nodded once, like she understood exactly what the fuck I meant.
Back at the penthouse, I made sure the kids were settled before storming into my office and locking the door behind me. I tossed my phone on the desk and yanked the hard drive from the safe, plugging it into my laptop. It was time to collect receipts, time to flip this shit on its head.