chapter ⅩⅩⅢ

The Wedding Countdown

Giselle's POV

The sun was shining bright over LA when we finally made it back home. It felt like life was slowly falling back into place after everything that had happened.

The trip to New York had given us all a little breather... especially Aaliyah. She was starting to smile again, little by little. But now that we were back...

It was wedding season.

As soon as I walked through the front door of Havenhurst, I could feel the butterflies swirling in my stomach. In just a couple of months, I was about to become Mrs. Jackson...

I never thought I'd see the day.

Michael went straight to his office — back to his business as usual — while I headed to one of the guest rooms with Solange and Aaliyah to start planning.

We spread out a bunch of magazines, notebooks, and fabric samples all over the bed. I had this whole vision in my head — soft colors, fresh flowers, candles everywhere... something timeless.

The whole day flew by as we brainstormed ideas — lavender and ivory for the color scheme, lilies for the bouquets, and maybe even a live band for the reception.

But the one thing I was the most excited about... was my wedding dress.

I had found it in New York on one of our last days there — a silky off-the-shoulder gown with a long train and delicate lace detailing along the neckline. The second I tried it on, I knew it was the one.

I had hidden it away in the back of one of the closets at Havenhurst the second we got home. Ain't no way I was letting Michael get a peek before the big day.

"Okay, now what about hair?" Solange said, flipping through one of the bridal magazines on the bed.

I froze for a second, biting my lip.

Hair...

My heart squeezed a little. The first person that came to mind was Mama.

My mother had been the first person to ever run a hot comb through my hair. She had styled me and Solange for every birthday party, every school dance, every holiday...

But she hadn't spoken to me since the day I packed my bags and left home to be with Michael.

I knew she didn't approve of him... or the life I was choosing.

And deep down... I couldn't really blame her.

Still...

It was my wedding day.

I wanted my mama to do my hair.

"You think she'd come?" I asked quietly, avoiding Solange's eyes.

My sister looked up from the magazine, her face softening.

"Gigi... mama's stubborn, but she ain't heartless."

I swallowed hard, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear.

"I don't know, Solo... she's always been so against me and Michael... I don't even know if she wants to see me walk down that aisle."

Solange scooted closer, wrapping her arm around my shoulder.

"You let me talk to her... I'll make her come."

Tears burned behind my eyes, but I blinked them back.

"You think so?"

"I know so." She squeezed me tighter. "She's gonna do your hair just like she always has... and you're gonna be the most beautiful bride she's ever seen."

Later That Night

After the girls went to bed, I tiptoed down the hall to our room.

Michael was already asleep — shirtless, sprawled out on his stomach with the covers half off him. His hair was wild and curly from the shower he had taken earlier, and the moonlight cast soft shadows across his bare back...

I couldn't help but smile, my heart swelling in my chest.

Even with all the danger that surrounded us...

Even with the life he lived...

He was still the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.

I slipped under the covers, wrapping my arm around his waist and pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder.

"Mmm... you're finally done playing wedding planner?" he mumbled sleepily.

I giggled, nuzzling closer to him.

"You know you don't gotta worry about a thing... I'm making sure everything is perfect."

He shifted, turning onto his side to face me, those dark eyes half-lidded and lazy.

"It already is... as long as you're there."

My heart fluttered. This man really had a way of making me feel like the only woman in the whole damn world.

I traced my fingers along his jaw, leaning in close.

"You tryna make me cry right now?"

He smiled sleepily, pressing a slow, tender kiss to my lips.

"Maybe... I like it when you cry for me."

I swatted his chest, biting my lip to hide my smile.

"Nasty ass."

Michael chuckled low in his throat, pulling me even closer.

"Nah, for real... I can't wait to make you my wife, Gigi."

I swallowed the lump in my throat, my heart pounding against his.

"I can't wait either."

The next morning, Solange left early to go talk to Mama.

I stayed behind, pacing the kitchen like I was waiting on a verdict. Every time the phone rang, my heart jumped out of my chest — but it was never her.

By the afternoon, I was about to give up hope when Solange finally walked through the front door.

I ran up to her before she could even take off her jacket.

"Did you talk to her?"

Solange just smiled softly, brushing her fingers along my cheek.

"She said yes."

My heart stopped.

"For real?"

Solange nodded.

"She said she wouldn't miss it for the world."

Tears instantly welled up in my eyes, spilling down my cheeks before I could even stop them.

I threw my arms around my sister, sobbing into her shoulder like I was a little girl again.

That night, I laid in bed with Michael, my head resting on his chest while his fingers traced lazy circles along my back.

"She said yes..." I whispered, still in disbelief.

"Mmm?"

"My mama... she's coming to the wedding."

Michael's hand stilled against my skin, his whole body going quiet for a second.

Then, he pressed a soft kiss to the top of my head.

"I'm happy for you, mama."

I closed my eyes, breathing in his scent — that mix of lavender and something warm and masculine that was all him.

"I'm happy too."

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Back to Business

Michael's POV

The sound of rain tapped lightly against the tinted windows of the black Mercedes as it cruised down Crenshaw Boulevard.

I sat in the backseat, one elbow resting against the door, my fingers rubbing slow circles against my temple.

It had been a few weeks since I last set foot in South LA. I knew I couldn't afford to stay away too long — not with Prince still out there, breathing down my neck... waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

The wedding was only a few months away now.

I was trying to keep my hands clean... at least for a little while.

But this life...

It never really let you walk away, no matter how much you tried.

"Mike, we're almost there."

Jamal's voice cut through the silence from the front seat.

I glanced out the window, watching the familiar streets roll by — liquor stores, pawn shops, gang tags sprayed across the walls.

I used to own these blocks.

Now... they were slipping through my fingers.

The Bay Area deal had bought me some time, but Prince's boys were starting to sniff around again. They were testing me... trying to see if I was still the man I used to be or if love had made me soft.

I could feel it coming.

Something big.

We pulled into the parking lot of a little run-down strip mall off Slauson. The whole place looked like it hadn't been touched since the '80s — flickering neon signs, cracked pavement, the air smelling like rain and burnt rubber.

My spot.

I used to run half my weight out of that little laundromat tucked between the liquor store and the taco stand.

Now it was nothing but a front... a place to hold meetings and launder money.

Jamal killed the engine, turning to look at me through the rearview mirror.

"You sure you wanna do this yourself, boss?"

I met his eyes without flinching.

"Yeah... I need them to see my face."

Inside, the place was dimly lit, the smell of bleach and stale cigarette smoke hanging heavy in the air.

A couple of folding chairs were set up in the back room, where the old washers used to be.

Three men were already waiting — Luis, Ray Ray, and Spooky — all of them lower-level pushers trying to climb their way up the ladder.

They stood when I walked in, their eyes darting between each other like they didn't know whether to bow or run.

"Sit down."

They obeyed without question.

I walked slowly around the room, letting the silence stretch until the tension was thick enough to choke on.

"You been movin' weight without my permission."

Nobody said a word.

I stopped behind Ray Ray, placing a hand on his shoulder — soft... almost friendly.

"You think I wouldn't find out?"

His whole body went stiff under my touch.

"N-No, boss... it ain't like that—"

I gripped his shoulder harder, cutting him off.

"Shut the fuck up when I'm talkin'."

He swallowed hard, nodding quickly.

I leaned down close to his ear.

"This ain't a democracy... it's a kingdom."

I straightened up, circling back around to the front of the room.

"I let y'all eat off my plate... I gave you a little taste, 'cause I thought you was loyal."

I let my eyes sweep over each of them — slow, calculated.

"But y'all forgot whose name built this empire."

Luis shifted nervously in his seat.

"Nah, Mike... we still loyal. It's just... with you bein' out the game lately, we thought maybe you was... you know... steppin' back."

I chuckled low under my breath.

"Steppin' back?"

I reached inside my coat pocket, pulling out my gold-plated Desert Eagle — the one I only carried for special occasions.

I set it down on the table nice and slow... like I had all the time in the world.

"Only way I'm steppin' back... is in a motherfuckin' casket."

Nobody said a word.

The rain kept tapping against the roof outside, the fluorescent light flickering overhead.

I could feel the fear rolling off them in waves — that old Michael Jackson they all whispered about still living underneath the silk shirts and soft voice.

They thought love made me soft?

They forgot I could be the devil when I needed to be.

I leaned forward, resting both hands on the table.

"This how it's gonna go from now on... every key that moves through South LA? I get a cut."

I looked each of them in the eye one by one.

"Y'all don't like that? Then you better find another block to hustle on."

Spooky licked his lips nervously, glancing at the gun on the table.

"Aight, boss... you got it."

I smiled slowly.

"Damn right, I got it."

By the time I walked out, the rain had stopped.

Jamal was waiting by the car, the engine running.

"You handle it?"

I lit a cigarette, taking a long drag before blowing the smoke into the night.

"Yeah... they know who's king."

On the drive back to Havenhurst, I leaned my head against the window, watching the city lights blur past.

I thought about Giselle...

About the wedding...

About the life I was trying to build outside of all this.

But deep down... I knew there was no walking away.

Not while Prince was still out there.

Not while my name still carried weight in these streets.

When we pulled into the gates, I saw the light still on in our bedroom window.

Gigi was probably up late again, going through color swatches or writing down guest lists.

I smiled a little to myself.

She had no idea what kind of man she was really about to marry.