𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 Ⅳ

𝚖𝚒𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚎𝚕'𝚜 𝚙𝚘𝚟

I didn't think I'd find myself parked outside her house in Santa Monica, but here I was. Hands gripping the wheel, mind running in circles. I wasn't the type to do this-show up unannounced, chase after a woman-but something about Giselle was different. She wasn't like the women who usually surrounded me, the ones drawn in by power, money, or fear. She had something else: a quiet kind of strength, a fire she didn't even seem to realize she had.

I stepped out of the car, smoothing down my jacket as I walked up to her door. Before I could even knock, it swung open, and there she was-barefoot, in a simple tank top and shorts, curls pulled into a messy bun. She looked at me, startled, her brows pulling together.

"Michael?"

I smirked slightly. "You sound surprised."

"Because I am. What are you doing here?"

I leaned against the doorframe, lowering my voice. "Wanted to see you. Thought maybe you'd wanna go out with me tonight."

She hesitated, arms crossing over her chest. "Michael... I don't know if that's a good idea."

"Why not?" I asked, tilting my head.

She sighed, glancing over her shoulder before stepping out onto the porch, pulling the door half-closed behind her. "Because I don't know you. Not really. And I feel like there's a lot you're not saying."

I exhaled slowly, shoving my hands in my pockets. "You're right. I don't tell people much about my life. But I ain't gonna lie to you, Gigi. I run businesses-real estate, clubs... and some things that ain't exactly clean." I watched her reaction closely, but she didn't flinch. Just stared at me, waiting.

"I don't want to get you caught up in that," I admitted. "But I do want to get to know you. Away from all this."

Her lips pressed together, her expression unreadable. "And what if I don't want to be around 'all this'?"

I nodded, already expecting that answer. "Then you won't be."

A pause stretched between us, thick and heavy. Then, finally, she let out a small breath. "I'll think about it."

It wasn't a yes. But it wasn't a no either.

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𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓪'𝓼 𝓹𝓸𝓿

The salon was buzzing with chatter, the scent of hair spray and coconut oil thick in the air. I was setting a roller in a client's hair when I overheard the women near the dryers whispering. My ears perked up when I caught a familiar name.

"That man," one of them murmured, shaking her head. "The one everyone's whispering about. I saw him last night, right here in Santa Monica."

"Where exactly?" another woman asked, leaning in.

"Near Tina's place," she said, lowering her voice. "Near Giselle."

My hands stilled. My chest tightened.

"What?" another voice chimed in. "You sure?"

"As sure as I'm sitting here. That man don't belong in Santa Monica, and he damn sure don't belong near Tina's daughter."

I forced myself to keep moving, acting like I hadn't heard a thing. But inside, my heart pounded.

I didn't know what kind of trouble was creeping toward my daughter, but I damn sure intended to find out.

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Ａａｌｉｙａｈ'ｓ ｐｏｖ

Aaliyah walked into the dance studio, stretching her arms as she scanned the room. Giselle hadn't made it today-said she was busy-but Aaliyah wasn't about to skip. Dance was her escape, and she needed it now more than ever.

As she adjusted her leg warmers, she noticed someone new lingering near the back of the room. A man, leaning against the wall, arms crossed. He had a smooth confidence about him, like he was used to people coming to him, not the other way around.

"Hey," she said as she walked up. "You new here?"

He smirked slightly. "Something like that."

Aaliyah cocked her head. "You dance?"

He chuckled. "Nah. Just watching."

Something about him felt... off. But she pushed the thought aside and stretched her leg. "You ever heard of someone named Prince?" she asked casually. "My friend and I have been trying to figure out who he is. Seems like some kind of mystery."

The man's smirk didn't waver, but there was a flicker in his eyes. "Prince, huh? Can't say I know him."

Aaliyah studied him for a second. Something told her he was lying.

But before she could press further, the instructor clapped his hands together, calling everyone to the floor.

She let it go-for now. But something about this whole thing didn't sit right.

And she had a feeling Giselle was right in the middle of it.

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𝙜𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙚'𝙨 𝙥𝙤𝙫

I was lying on my bed, flipping through a magazine, when I heard a knock at my window. My heart jumped for a second before I realized who it was. Aaliyah.

I rolled my eyes but got up and pushed the window open. "Girl, why can't you just use the front door like a normal person?"

Aaliyah smirked and climbed inside, flopping onto my bed like she lived here. "Because this is faster."

I shook my head and sat back down. "What's up?"

She sat up, eyes wide, her whole face buzzing with energy. "You are not gonna believe what happened at dance class today."

I raised an eyebrow. "What, you finally landed a double pirouette without falling on your ass?"

She slapped my arm. "No, dummy. I met someone."

I blinked. "Met someone?"

"Yeah," she said, her voice dropping like she was about to tell me some deep, dark secret. "This dude was just standing in the back, watching. Not dancing. Just... observing."

I frowned. "Okay? And?"

"And when I asked him if he knew Prince, he acted all weird," she said, crossing her arms. "Like he didn't wanna talk about it. But I could tell he was lying."

I sat up straighter. "Wait, so you think...?"

Aaliyah nodded. "I think he is Prince."

I stared at her, the weight of her words settling over me.

Prince. The guy no one saw, no one talked about. The one whose name carried an air of mystery.

"What did he look like?" I asked.

"Smooth, confident," she said, biting her lip. "The kind of guy who walks into a room and owns it without saying a word. Like he knows things other people don't."

I let out a slow breath, rubbing my arm. "That's... creepy."

"Right?" Aaliyah said. "And the way he looked at me when I brought up his name? I swear, he knows something. He just wouldn't admit it."

I shook my head. "This is getting weird."

"Super weird," she agreed.

A moment of silence passed between us before she nudged me with her elbow. "Anyway, enough about that. How was your night?"

I hesitated. My mind flashed back to Michael standing outside my house, the way he looked at me, the way he talked. How he admitted-without really admitting-what kind of life he was into.

I shrugged. "Nothing special."

Aaliyah rolled her eyes. "Uh-huh. You are a terrible liar, Giselle."

I just smiled and lay back on my bed, staring at the ceiling.

I hesitated, chewing on my lip as I sat up straighter. My fingers fidgeted with the hem of my shirt, my mind racing. Should I tell her?

Aaliyah must've sensed something was off because she narrowed her eyes. "Giselle... what aren't you telling me?"

I exhaled sharply, shaking my head. "Okay, but you have to swear-swear-you won't say anything. Not to my mom. Not to Solange."

Aaliyah leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Girl, you know I got you. Now spill."

I took a deep breath, my heart pounding. "It's Michael."

Aaliyah's brows furrowed. "Michael? That guy from the club?"

I nodded, swallowing hard. "He... he came by my house."

Her eyes nearly popped out of her head. "What?! Giselle, are you crazy?! What did he want?"

I lowered my voice. "He wants to take me out."

Aaliyah blinked. "Take you out? Like... on a date?"

I nodded again. "And... he told me a little about what he does. Not too much, but enough."

She gave me a knowing look. "And what exactly does he do?"

I exhaled. "He didn't say it directly, but I'm not stupid, Aaliyah. The way he talks, the way people react to him... he's into something big." I hesitated before adding, "Something dangerous."

Aaliyah leaned back, running a hand through her straight hair. "Damn, Bey..." She let out a breath. "And you're actually considering going out with him?"

I shook my head quickly. "No! I mean... I don't know." I sighed. "He's not like I expected. He's intense, but there's something about him. He doesn't scare me the way he should."

Aaliyah gave me a look like I'd lost my damn mind. "Giselle. This ain't some romance movie, okay? Guys like that? They don't just take girls out for dinner and send them home with roses."

"I know," I murmured. "That's why I don't want Solange or my mom knowing. They'll freak."

Aaliyah crossed her arms, studying me. "I won't say anything... but girl, you better watch yourself."

Just as I was about to respond, the door suddenly flew open.

"Tell me what?"

Solange stood in the doorway, her arms crossed, her sharp eyes darting between me and Aaliyah.

I froze.

Aaliyah looked at me, waiting for my next move.

I swallowed hard.

Shit.

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