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She exhaled and looked briefly at the wall before looking back at me. “I don’t have anything to wear.”

“You lying to me again, Princess?” My hand went around her neck and squeezed slightly. “None of them squares you dealt with ever took you to a gala?”

Belle licked her lips. “I’m not lying.”

“Mm.” I released her. “Let’s go. I’ll take you shopping.”

“Dez, I can’t just leave work in the middle of my shift.”

I checked my watch, it was 2:00. “Y’all don’t open until evening. You want me to tell Tank or will you?”

“Annoying ass nigga,” she muttered, brushing past me.

Belle felt like she was mine even if we were still existing in a gray area. I wanted to see how she’d move in a room full of rich criminals and crooked politicians. I knew I was playing with fire, but I’d stopped listening to the voice of reason around the third time she called me Papa.

I took her to a boutique in SoHo with strict instructions to try on whatever she liked and not to worry about price tags. Priest called as I went to sit and wait on her.

“What’s good?” I answered, glancing around to make sure nobody was close enough to hear.

“I got some info back on that Solomon Graves dude.”

“What you find out?”

“He was in for a murder bid, but it wasn’t his body. Everybody in the streets knew, but nobody said anything because it was a Montague job.” His voice dropped. “He got twenty years, and your pops cut off his people about a year into his bid. His wife lost their house. Man barely had money on his books.”

So that was the information Pops was skating around the other day.

I stood and walked to the boutique window, looking out at the street. “Anything else?”

“Still digging. But this nigga’s been holding a twenty year grudge and had plenty of time to figure out how he’s gonna take the family down.”

“I want to know everything about him. Who’s his family, who’s in his ear, everything.”

“Gotchu.”

I hung up and rubbed my jaw. My father really thought whatever went down with Solomon wasn’t gonna come back on him.

I couldn’t even be all the way mad at the nigga. Somebody did me like that, I’d come back swinging too.

Belle cleared her throat behind me.

She came out in a black strapless gown. The fabric draped across her body, hugging her waist like she’d been sculpted into it. The slit went all the way up her thigh.

She was examining herself in the mirror, tilting her head, smoothing the fabric over her stomach. Then she turned to face me.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, eyes narrowing.

“Nothing. Turn around.”

She didn’t move, eyes still scanning my face.

“Dez.”

“I’m good, Belle,” I said. “Now turn around for me.”

She held my gaze for another second before turning slowly and looking at me over her shoulder. The dress dipped low in the back, the slit opening as she moved.

I wanted to peel the dress off her with my teeth. This woman was going to be a problem at the gala. I knew without a doubt that every nigga was gonna be looking at her.I was going to have to remind myself that I couldn’t put hands on civilians.