The Meeting

Za’miyah’s POV

The card sat on my bedside table, staring at me like it held all the answers and all the danger in the world. It had been three days since that strange man showed up at my door, and I still hadn’t called the number.

“Miyah, yuh good?” Mama asked, glancing at me from across the room.

I nodded quickly. “Yeah, Mama. Mi just tired, that’s all.”

But I wasn’t tired. I was restless. My mind kept going back to the man in the suit, to the name on the card, to the black SUV I kept seeing in my neighborhood.

I couldn’t shake the feeling that my life was about to change, and I wasn’t sure if it was for better or worse.

Finally, after hours of staring at the card, I grabbed my phone and dialed the number. It rang twice before a calm, deep voice answered.

“This is Carter.”

“It’s Za’miyah,” I said, my voice steady even though my hands were trembling. “Yuh said someone wanted to meet me.”

“Ah, yes,” he said smoothly. “I’ll send a car for you. Tonight.”

“Wait,” I said quickly. “Who is this person? What do they want?”

“You’ll find out soon enough,” he said, and the line went dead.

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Zaire’s POV

I adjusted the cufflinks on my shirt, my reflection staring back at me in the mirror. Meeting her like this was risky, but I wanted her to see me for who I really was. No lies, no masks.

Bishop stepped into the room, his expression unreadable. “Carter confirmed. She’s on her way.”

I nodded, my stomach twisting in a way it hadn’t in years. “Good.”

“Yuh sure bout this, boss?” Bishop asked, his tone cautious. “Bringing her into yuh world? It’s dangerous.”

“Everything I do is dangerous,” I said, brushing past him. “She’ll be fine.”

But deep down, I wasn’t so sure.

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Za’miyah’s POV

The car was sleek and black, just like the SUV I’d seen before. Carter was waiting for me when I stepped outside, his expression polite but unreadable.

“Miss Knight,” he said, opening the door for me.

I hesitated, glancing back at my house. Mama’s tired face flashed in my mind, and I almost turned back. But something pulled me forward. Curiosity? Desperation? I wasn’t sure.

The ride was silent, the city lights flashing by as we drove into New Kingston. When we finally pulled up in front of a towering glass building, my nerves kicked into overdrive.

“Right this way,” Carter said, leading me inside.

The elevator ride felt like an eternity. My palms were sweaty, and my heart was racing. When the doors opened, I was greeted by the sight of a man standing by a massive floor-to-ceiling window, the city sprawled out behind him.

“Za’miyah,” he said, turning to face me. His voice was deep, smooth, and commanding.

He was tall, dressed in a tailored suit that probably cost more than everything I owned. His face was sharp and handsome, but his eyes were dark, almost predatory.

“Who are yuh?” I asked, my voice firmer than I felt.

“Zaire King,” he said, stepping closer. “But most people call me Luci.”

Luci. The name sent a chill down my spine. I’d heard it before—whispers in the streets about a dangerous man who ran the city.

“What do yuh want wid me?” I demanded, trying to keep my voice steady.

He smiled faintly, but there was no warmth in it. “I’ve been watching you, Za’miyah. Yuh different. Strong. I see potential in yuh.”

“Potential fi what?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

“To survive,” he said simply. “To thrive in a world where most people get crushed.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. Part of me wanted to run, but another part of me—one I didn’t fully understand—was intrigued.

“What if mi don’t want anything to do wid yuh world?” I asked.

His smile widened, but it still didn’t reach his eyes. “Then walk away. But if yuh stay, I can promise yuh one thing: yuh life will never be di same.”

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Zaire’s POV

She didn’t back down. That’s what I liked about her. Even standing in my world, surrounded by everything I’d built, she still had fire in her eyes.

“You think yuh can just pluck mi out of mi life and turn mi into one of yuh people?” she asked, her voice sharp.

“No,” I said calmly. “I think yuh already one of us. Yuh just don’t know it yet.”

Her jaw tightened, and I could see the battle playing out in her mind. She wanted to fight me, but she also wanted to understand me.

“I don’t need yuh help,” she said finally.

“Maybe not,” I said. “But one day, yuh might.”

She didn’t answer, but I could see the doubt flicker in her eyes.

“Go home, Za’miyah,” I said, stepping back. “Think about it. If yuh ready to step into my world, yuh know how to find me.”

She turned and walked toward the elevator, her head held high.

As the doors closed behind her, I couldn’t help but smile. She was going to be a problem. But I liked problems.

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