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I started to follow her but she pressed her palm flat against my sternum and held me there.

"Don't," she said. "Please. If he sees you walking me back he'll know. And I can't..." Her voice cracked. "I can't have him know. Not yet."

"Asha."

"I have to go." She stepped back and her hand fell away. "Don't follow me. Please."

She turned and walked fast back toward the street, then turned the corner and disappeared.

I stood there with my hands in my pockets and the park going on around me. Kids screaming, mothers yelling, cars passing on the street. None of it registered.

I was thinking about her hand on my jaw and about the way she'd said my name and the fact that she was going back to Supreme's car and house. I didn't even want to think about her in Supreme's bed.

I had to remove that smug nigga from the picture.

It was a bad idea. The worst idea. Kadeem would lose his mind. The Associates would never approve a move on Crown Heights without a war council and six months of planning. Devon would run the numbers and tell me it was suicide.

But I couldn't stop thinking about it anyway.

I walked back to my car and sat in the driver's seat with my hands on the wheel. Started the engine and pulled into traffic heading back to Bed-Stuy. My phone buzzed with a text from Devon asking where I was.

I didn't answer.

I drove and I thought about her mouth and her hand on my chest and the way she'd looked at me like I was the problem and the solution at the same time.

I thought about Supreme.

And I knew this wasn't over.

Chapter 12

Asha

Supreme was in a good mood when I got home. He'd closed some deal with a supplier upstate and the money was clean and the numbers worked and he was riding the high of it all the way through dinner. I sat across from him at the table, smiled, asked the right questions, laughed when he made a joke about the other guy's negotiating strategy.

"Baby, you should've seen his face when I walked in with the counteroffer," Supreme said, cutting into his steak. "Man thought he had me locked in at fifteen percent and I came back with eight."

"Eight?" I widened my eyes just enough. "How'd you get him down that far?"

"Leverage, baby. Always about leverage." He grinned and reached across the table to take my hand. "That's what I been teaching you, right? You gotta know what the other person needs more than they know it themselves."

"You're good at that," I said, and I meant it. He was. That was the problem.

He squeezed my hand and went back to his steak. The cook had made it with roasted potatoes and vegetables. I ate slowly, keeping pace with Supreme so I wouldn't finish too early or too late. Three years had taught me the rhythm of his dinners.

"You know what I love about you?" Supreme asked, fork paused halfway to his mouth.

"What's that?"

"You listen. You really listen." He pointed at me with his fork. "Most women, they just waiting for they turn to talk. But you? You hear what I'm saying. You understand the game."

"I'm learning from you," I said.

"Damn right you are." He grinned. "You're my smart girl. My baby. Ain't nobody else got what we got."

I smiled and told him he was right.

After we ate he wanted to watch a game. I followed him to the couch and settled in next to him with my legs tucked under me. His arm went around my shoulders and I leaned into his side the way he liked. The game was barely ten minutes in when his phone rang.