Chapter 1

Imani POV

Today my twin sister and I are moving into our new house, and our older brother and his friends are supposed to be helping us.

Including Zion.

The man I’ve had the biggest crush on since I was seventeen.

He’s fine, successful, covered in tattoos, built like a linebacker… and completely off-limits.

Which only makes me want him more. Jalen told Alani and me long ago to stay away from his friends, and vice versa. The thrill of him being off-limits excites me even more.

Alani walks into the kitchen just as I light my blunt. The lighter flicks, the flame briefly reflecting in the marble backsplash before the smoke curls into the air.

“Do you have everything packed? Jalen and them will be here soon,” Alani says.

“Yeah, I’m ready to get out of this apartment. Too many bad memories,” I reply, passing her the blunt.

A few weeks ago, I walked in on my boyfriend of three years balls deep in my so-called best friend. To say I was heartbroken is an understatement. My chest still tightens thinking about it.

So I quit my job and bought a house with my sister because staying here was no longer an option.

Of course, I beat her ass and then kicked her out butt-ass naked.

Alani and I got a great laugh out of that.

“Omari told me Zion asked about you the other day,” Alani says, leaning against the island and passing me the blunt back.

The smoke catches in my throat. Heat crawls slowly up my neck thinking about him asking about me.

“What did he say?” I ask.

“He asked if you were still with Darren,” she says.

I drop the blunt I’m smoking, choking on the smoke.

“Deadass?” I ask between coughs, eyes watering.

She smirks and stares a minute before answering.

“Yeah, girl.”

My stomach flips.

Zion is four years older than me, and a god. Everybody thinks his family is part of the mafia or involved in the drug game because he’s feared all through New York. People lower their voices when they say his name.

And me?

I’ve been crushing on him since I was seventeen.

The bell rings.

My heart jumps.

When I open the door, Jalen is standing there with his friends.

“Wassup, sis? Are you two ready for us to start moving stuff? We got the truck out front,” he says.

“Yeah, everything is ready to go,” I say, stepping aside so they can walk in.

Boots thud against the floor. The apartment suddenly fills with deep voices, the smell of cologne, leather, and outside air.

But when Zion walks in last, the room shifts slightly.

Even Jalen lowers his voice a little

He stops at the door.

My pulse quickens immediately being this close to him.

My fingers tighten around the door handle without me realizing it.

Damn.

Why does he still have this effect on me?

He’s bigger than I remember. Broader. Dark ink crawls down both arms, disappearing under the sleeves of his black shirt. His beard is trimmed low, his eyes sharp and focused.

And those eyes land on me.

“What up, Imani? It’s been a minute,” he says, his voice low.

His gaze slowly rakes up and down my body, not even trying to hide it.

Not rushed.

Like he’s taking inventory.

My skin prickles under the attention.

I haven’t seen Zion since my twentieth birthday. In these three years I’ve dropped a few pounds, my hips have grown, and my booty has gotten bigger too.

If I do say so myself…

I look good.

“Yeah, it has,” I say, surprised my voice comes out even.

His eyes narrow slightly like he’s studying me.

“You look good,” he says slowly.

A beat passes.

“You look real good.”

His tongue drags across his bottom lip as he steps closer.

The air between us tightens.

“You know your brother gave us all one rule when we all met—that his little sisters were off-limits—and it was a lot easier to stay away when you were a teenager,” he says low.

My heart starts pounding harder.

He leans slightly closer, his voice dropping.

“But now you’re grown…”

His eyes drop slowly down my body again.

I feel the heat of his stare like hands touching me.

“And damn, Imani—”

“Yo Z, where the fuck you at?” Omari yells from upstairs.

Zion glances toward the stairs but doesn’t move right away.

His attention slides back to me.

“How much do you like breaking rules?” he asks.

The question sends a chill down my spine.

Before I can answer, he steps closer, , slow and unhurried, like he already knows I’m not going anywhere. His hand brushes lightly against my waist as his lips touch mine.

His thumb presses slightly against my hip like he’s testing the shape of me.

The kiss is soft.

Too soft.

Then his teeth catch my bottom lip.

A quiet gasp leaves me.

He pulls back slowly, his face still inches from mine.

“I heard you’re single,” he murmurs.

My breath catches.

“You’re mine now, and I don’t want to hear about another man touching what’s mine because I don’t share.”

The possessiveness in his voice makes my stomach drop.

“I will break anyone you bring around,” he says quietly.

Not loud.

Not joking.

A promise.

He smacks my ass before turning and heading upstairs like he didn’t just short-circuit my entire brain.

I stand there frozen.

I can sense the danger in his tone.

And instead of being scared…

My panties are soaked, and my pussy throbs watching him walk away.

Alani runs into the hall seconds later.

“Omg, bitch, that was hot as fuck,” she says.

“I knew he wanted you this whole time, and I heard he hasn’t fucked with anybody this whole time, and you know bitches be on his body,” she adds.

“It’s like he was waiting for you, and that is cute as fuck.”

I shake my head, trying to steady my breathing.

“He wasn’t waiting for me, and there’s no way he hasn’t been with anybody this whole time. We met him when we were seventeen,” I reply.

“How much you want to bet?” she asks.

The guys move back and forth through the apartment, carrying boxes and furniture. Their voices echo through the hallway, footsteps heavy on the floor.

Everything takes about an hour with all six of them.

“Thank you, fellas,” Alani says.

“Y’all ready to head out?” Jalen asks.

“Yeah, we’re all set,” I say.

But my eyes drift to Zion.

He hasn’t taken his eyes off me.

Like he’s been waiting three years to look at me like this.

His gaze is dark with something heavy—desire, possession, something deeper I can’t quite name.

My thighs press together automatically.

This man hasn’t even touched me yet.

And somehow…

I already feel claimed.