𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 Ⅴ

𝔪𝔦𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔢𝔩'𝔰 𝔭𝔬𝔳

The necklace dangled from Michael's fingers, the delicate gold chain catching the dim light of his office. The snake pendant shimmered, its small emerald eyes glinting like secrets kept in the dark. A fitting symbol, he thought. A warning and a promise all at once.

He exhaled, setting the necklace down on his desk before leaning back in his chair. Tonight had to go perfectly. La Doble Vita was an upscale restaurant, discreet and exclusive, tucked away in Beverly Hills where prying eyes wouldn't be an issue. He had everything planned-the table, the wine, even the way he'd ease Giselle into his world. Not too much, not enough to scare her away. Just enough to plant a seed.

A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts.

"Come in."

Cris walked in, his expression tight. Michael already knew-something was wrong.

"What?"

"Prince is sniffing around the South," Cris said, cutting straight to the point. "Some of the guys say he's been asking about you. Your deals. Your people."

Michael's jaw tightened. "That motherf-" He cut himself off, fingers tapping against the desk. Prince had been quiet for a while, keeping his business up in San Francisco, but now? Now he was getting curious. Curious and reckless.

Cris continued. "Word is, he's been showing up in Long Beach too. Could be nothing. Could be him tryna' push in."

Michael nodded slowly, rolling his lips together in thought. If Prince thought he could move in on his business, he had another thing coming. But tonight wasn't about that. Tonight was about Giselle.

"We'll handle Prince when the time's right," Michael finally said. "For now, keep eyes on him. I want to know every move he makes."

Cris hesitated. "And Giselle?"

Michael's fingers brushed the necklace again. "She's got nothin' to do with this."

But deep down, he knew that wasn't entirely true. Because sooner or later, everything in his world came at a price. And he wasn't about to let anyone-Prince included-take what was his.

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ɢɪꜱᴇʟʟᴇ'ꜱ ᴘᴏᴠ

The afternoon sun hung low in the sky as I walked through Santa Monica, carrying a brown paper bag filled with hair products for my mother's salon. The warm breeze blew against my skin, and the familiar sounds of the city surrounded me-cars honking, people laughing, waves crashing in the distance. It was just another normal day, or so I thought.

I was about to cross the street when a man stepped in front of me, his presence stopping me in my tracks. He was tall, with a neatly pressed suit and dark sunglasses covering his eyes. I recognized him instantly-Cris, Michael's man. My breath caught in my throat.

He took a step closer, his voice calm but firm. "Be ready by six, Miss knowles. A black Cadillac will pick you up."

I blinked, my lips parting slightly. "Wait, what? Ready for what?"

Cris didn't answer. He simply gave me a nod, then turned on his heel and walked away as if we had just spoken about the weather.

I stood there for a moment, frozen. The paper bag crinkled under my tightening grip. My heart pounded in my chest. What the hell was Michael up to? I hadn't even agreed to go anywhere with him. And yet, something about the way Cris spoke-so assured, so final-told me that this wasn't a request. It was happening whether I was ready or not.

I hurried home, pushing the door open with more force than necessary. Aaliyah was sitting on my bed, flipping through a magazine, but she looked up the moment she saw my face.

"What's wrong with you?" she asked, arching an eyebrow.

I tossed the bag onto the dresser and sighed. "Cris just stopped me in the street."

Aaliyah sat up straighter. "Michael's Cris?"

I nodded, running a hand through my curls. "Yeah. He told me to be ready at six. Said a black Cadillac would pick me up."

Aaliyah's eyes widened. "Ohhh, girl. That man is serious about you."

I groaned, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I don't even know if I wanna go! I mean, what kind of man just sends his guy to deliver a message like that?"

Aaliyah smirked. "A man like Michael. He's not gonna wait around for you to make up your mind. He's already decided."

I chewed on my bottom lip, unsure of what to do. But deep down, I knew I was going. There was something about Michael that drew me in, even when I knew better. Even when I told myself I should walk away.

Aaliyah nudged me. "You better start getting ready. If a black Cadillac is coming, you can't be stepping out looking basic."

I sighed, standing up. "I guess you're right."

As I walked to my closet, my heart raced. Whatever this night had in store for me, one thing was clear-there was no turning back now.

Giselle stood outside her house, arms wrapped around herself, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. The evening air wasn't cold, but nerves made her shiver. Aaliyah lounged on the porch steps, watching her with an amused smirk.

"You're gonna wear a hole in the pavement, Bey," Aaliyah teased, resting her chin in her palm. "It's just dinner."

"Yeah... just dinner," Giselle murmured, smoothing down her dress. The anticipation was clawing at her, making her second-guess everything. What was she even doing?

Before she could spiral further, the sleek black Cadillac pulled up to the curb. The tinted window rolled down just enough for her to see Michael's smoldering gaze. A slow grin spread across his lips as he took her in.

"Damn," he drawled, voice dripping with admiration. "You look delicious."

Giselle felt heat rush to her cheeks. "Slow down, Casanova. You don't even know what's on the menu yet."

Michael chuckled, shaking his head as he reached across the seat and pushed the door open for her. "Oh, I got a pretty good idea."

She rolled her eyes but stepped forward, feeling like she was crossing some invisible line. As she slid into the plush leather seat, Michael leaned in slightly, his voice dipping into something lower, softer.

"You sure you ready for this, baby?"

Giselle arched a brow. "It's dinner, Michael, not a deal with the devil."

He smirked, reaching over to brush a stray curl from her face. "Maybe not. But once you step in this car, there's no turning back."

A small shiver ran down her spine, but she tilted her chin up. "Then drive."

Michael's smirk deepened, and as the car pulled away from the curb, Giselle could feel the weight of what she had just stepped into. It wasn't just dinner-it was the beginning of something that felt a little dangerous... and entirely intoxicating.

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at this point bey bey DID close a deal with the devil and that is michael.

lord help bey bey