Desiree is all about her business and her peace until one wild night out leads to an unexpected fling with a street king named Zayan and a baby, she never tells him about.
Now, with her world changing fast and secrets piling up, Desiree's doing ever...
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Desiree Jacobs was twenty-three and barely stood at 5'3", but no one could say she didn't hold her own. She lived alone in a cozy apartment just outside the heart of Chicago, and most days, she could be found at Des Bakery the shop she built from the ground up. Baking wasn't just her job, it was her therapy, her joy, her everything. On the side, she also did makeup, staying booked and busy like the boss she was.
Life hadn't always been sweet. Desiree was an only child, and a few years back, her world shifted when her parents died in a plane crash coming home from a business trip. To the public, they were respected entrepreneurs. Behind closed doors? Drug lords with serious power and money. They left her a fortune, but she'd never touched it she was determined to build her own legacy.
Thankfully, she wasn't alone. Her best friends, Kairi and Raven, were always by her side. Kairi had been there since day one their moms were best friends, and they'd grown up like sisters. Raven came into her life in high school, and the connection was instant. They were more than friends now. They were family.
It was a sweet, messy, complicated life but it was hers.
And this? This was just the beginning.
That evening, the girls were all piled up in Desiree's room, vibing and laughing like usual. Kairi sat at the edge of the bed, fingers flying across her phone screen.
"Let's go to Brynna's party tonight," she said without even glancing up.
"Yes! Let's turn up tonight!" Raven chimed in, already hyped as she started twerking in front of the mirror.
Desiree barely looked up from her phone, still scrolling through Instagram. "Nah... I don't feel like going. I'd rather just stay in and sleep."
"Girl, just come! It's gonna be lit," Kairi said with a grin.
"I'm good. Y'all go ahead," she replied casually, though deep down, she knew they weren't about to drop it that easy.
"Pleaaaaase," the girls begged in unison, putting on the ugliest puppy-dog faces they could manage.
Desiree rolled her eyes and sighed. "Fine. But y'all ain't cute."
The room erupted in squeals of victory. They both knew that if she hadn't agreed, they would've dragged her out of the house in whatever was closest to the door.
"We should hit the mall and get our outfits," Kairi suggested, already halfway to the closet.
"Yesss, mall run!" Raven echoed with excitement.
All three of them got up to get dressed. Kairi and Raven didn't even need to pack bags anymore half their wardrobes were already at Desiree's place. Her apartment was basically their second home.
"We look cute," Kairi said, checking herself out in the mirror one last time.
"Yesss, we do. Now let's go," Desiree added with a grin as she grabbed her keys and headed downstairs.
The girls piled into Desiree's car, the bass from the speakers already humming as a playlist blasted through the system. With the windows down and the city breeze flowing in, they pulled off toward the mall ready to find the perfect outfits and turn heads at the party later that night.
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Zayan King was 25 years old, living alone on the South Side of Chicago. Standing at a solid six feet tall, he moved through life with quiet confidence and cold focus. Love wasn't on his agenda not now, maybe not ever. As far as he was concerned, emotions complicated things. He didn't do commitment. He didn't do feelings. He had one rule: hit it and keep it moving. No attachments. No mess.
To most, Zayan came off distant, even cold. But underneath the surface was a man shaped by survival one who'd learned early not to trust easily, and to always stay two steps ahead. He wasn't the type to draw attention. He moved in silence, let his money talk, and kept his circle tight. On the surface, he looked like any other young man stacking paper, but those who knew the streets knew better Zayan ran things. Quietly. Efficiently.
He didn't need to flex or post his life online. His name carried weight in backroom deals and late-night exchanges. Nothing moved in his part of Chicago without him giving the word. If something needed to happen, he made a call. If something went wrong, he already had a plan.
His boys, Jay and Ty, were the only ones close enough to see how deep the game really ran. Jay, quick-tempered and loyal, was the muscle. Ty, the joker, kept things light but never missed a beat. Together, they held it down, but Zayan? Zayan was the one pulling the strings smooth, smart, and always five steps ahead.
Zayan lounged in the leather chair of his office, smoke curling in the air as low music played in the background. The trap was quiet until a knock on the door.
"Come in," he said, adjusting his posture.
One of his crew stepped in, eyes sharp. "Boss, we got the dude who's been dodging you. He downstairs."
Zayan nodded once, standing up with calm purpose. "Aight, let's go."
He and a few of his guys made their way to the basement. The air was thick down there, the tension even thicker. In the center of the room sat the man who owed him, hands bound, eyes darting with fear.
Zayan stepped forward, voice steady but cold. "Where's my money?"
"I-I don't have it yet," the man stammered. "Just give me one more week"
Zayan didn't say a word. He turned to Jay, one of his most loyal enforcers. "Handle it."
Without waiting for a reply, he walked back upstairs, the weight of the game heavy on his shoulders. Business was business, and in his world, you either moved smart or paid the price.
"We should hit up Brynna's party tonight," Trell said as he walked into the office, his phone still in hand.
Zayan leaned back in his chair, nodding once. "Aight. But I'm heading home first meet me at the club around eight."
"Bet," Jay chimed in, pushing off the wall with a grin. "I'm about to dip too. Sharon's pulling up... and you know I ain't missing that."
They all laughed, dapping each other up before heading their separate ways.
Zayan slid into his car, the bass thumping low as he cruised through the city. His stomach growled just as he passed Popeyes, and without thinking twice, he pulled in to grab some food. After all, a man's gotta eat.
With his bag in the passenger seat, he headed home, ready to catch a quick nap before the night really started. The party could wait for now, it was food, rest, and then... the turn-up.
