Chapter 51: Black Pride
"Stay with me." Justin’s voice was soft, sleepy, and dragged through her like a damn magnet.
Sasha looked at him—eyes still closed, voice heavy with exhaustion, but his expression? Yeah, that shit hit. He needed her. Not in some vague, emotional way. He needed her close, right here, lying down with him.
She swallowed, then whispered, "Let me."
His hand loosened instantly, falling back onto the mattress.
Sasha slipped out of bed, and for a moment, Justin thought she was leaving. His half-asleep mind started spiraling—until he felt her slipping back into his arms, this time with softer fabric hugging her form.
His lips curled in the ghost of a smile.
So she’d gone to change out of that stiff-ass maid outfit. Good. He hated that thing.
Then her voice—soft, teasing, but so damn Sasha.
"I wanna be the small spoon!"
Justin let out a tired chuckle.
"Mmh. You always do. Not that I mind being the big spoon."
He pulled her closer, wrapping himself around her as the thick, plush duvet swallowed them both whole.
It was warm. Comforting.
On the Doorway
Laurent stood at the bedroom entrance, arms crossed, a look of resigned acceptance on her face.
There was no stopping it.
Justin and Sasha—whatever the hell they were—had something deep, something unchangeable. The kind of love that just... existed, no matter what anyone thought about it.
And honestly? She was glad.
Her daughter had helped him do something no one else could—to let go of that suffocating pain, to accept the warmth, the love, the people willing to carry some of that weight with him.
Laurent sighed, a small smile playing at her lips.
"She’s grown up faster," she murmured.
Then she turned, hips swaying as she walked away, her figure moving in a slow, natural rhythm that made it damn near impossible not to stare.
She had that kind of walk—the dangerous kind. The kind that made a man think. And if Justin ever looked at her like that one day?
Well...
She’d just smile.
*****
The kitchen was alive—the clatter of pots, the rich, mouthwatering scent of something definitely better than takeout, and the easy, lazy hum of gossip between two women who knew each other too damn well.
Selena, now in her comfort zone—a loose shirt, tiny shorts, and the kind of messy hair that screamed ’I don’t give a damn’—was perched on the counter, munching on some kind of snack like she was watching a sitcom instead of the head maid making dinner.
Laurent, ever the definition of grace and authority, stirred something in a pot with the perfect balance of focus and side-eye.
"So," Laurent started, her tone teasing, "you’re really gonna act like you didn’t see what I saw?"
Selena stopped mid-crunch. Paused. Then shrugged. "Depends. What exactly did you see?"
Laurent shot her a knowing look.
"Oh, don’t play dumb. You know exactly what I mean." She set the spoon down, turning fully to face her. "Those two. Sasha and Justin."
Selena blinked once, then popped another snack into her mouth. "Took ’em long enough, huh?"
Laurent smirked. "It was inevitable. Honestly, I should’ve placed a bet on this. I’d be rich." Before Selena could reply, another maid entered, carrying a small tray of fresh herbs and spices.
"Ah, good," Laurent nodded, taking a quick glance. "Chop those up finely—yes, exactly like that. Then pass me the salt." The maid got to work as Laurent returned her attention to Selena.
"Speaking of Justin—how was his first day at the office?"
Selena snorted. "Better than expected. Actually, no—way fucking better than expected." Laurent raised an eyebrow.
Selena leaned forward like she was about to drop the funniest damn thing ever.
"First of all—those board members? They thought they were starring in some Wall Street revenge flick, right? Thought they were about to pull some slick-ass power move on Justin."
Laurent’s lips twitched. "Oh?"
"Yeah. Except—plot twist!—they were in his movie the whole time, and guess what? He was the one screwing them over."
Laurent threw her head back and laughed. "Serves them right. Who the hell told them they could try to take over the company with cheap tricks?" She scoffed. "Did they really think Justin was just some normal eighteen-year-old?"
They locked eyes.
"Screw them!" The words came out at the same time, loud as hell, making the other maid burst out laughing as well.
Selena grinned, grabbing another handful of snacks. "But wait—here’s the best part." She popped one in her mouth, chewing dramatically. "The funniest thing? The way those board members’ jaws hit the fucking floor when Justin walked in... with the very woman who led them against him—now on his side, loyal as a smitten puppy."
Laurent’s eyes widened. "He did that?"
"Yep."
"Hah!" Laurent clapped her hands, then turned to the other maid. "Pass me the garlic—no, the minced one. And get the butter from the fridge."
Selena nodded, still absolutely thriving off the memory.
"I mean, the way they looked at him like—" she mimicked a board member’s horrified face, eyes wide, mouth open, pure disbelief.
Laurent wheezed. "As expected of him. That boy doesn’t just win—he dominates since his was young even when he played games with his friends. He never lost."
They kept laughing, the kitchen filling with the glorious sound of gossip and admiration, voices rising and falling between the clang of kitchenware, the sweet aroma of perfectly cooked food, and the undeniable satisfaction in their tone.
Because damn.
Justin was that guy. Black Pride. The pride of the Black family and this very mansion
And honestly?
What more could a man ever hope for?
Justin Had It All—And Then Some
Justin had everything.
A loving family? Check. A home so full of genuine smiles and warmth that it could make a Hallmark movie look like a depressing indie film? Double check.
People who would literally move mountains for him? Yeah, those too.
An agency that wasn’t just dominating its industry but had the potential to eat up its competitors like they were nothing but appetizers? Absolutely.
And the women? Please.
Justin could lift a single finger—no, not even, just a casual tilt of his damn head—and some poor girl would be tripping over herself like a rom-com protagonist trying to get his attention.
The dude was set.
Even without the presence of his parents, they had made sure he had everything he needed before they passed. He wasn’t left wandering, wasn’t left struggling—they had built him strong enough to carry the weight they once held.
But the craziest part?
He had the potential to get even more. More power. More influence. More money. More of whatever the hell he wanted.
Because Justin?
He wasn’t just some lucky bastard sitting pretty with what he had.
No—he was the kind of guy who would own the whole damn table, not just the cards he was dealt. And tonight, he was going to take a step that would make him fly! In just a few moments to come, something big was going to fall onto his laps! Something big!