King Von Imagines

No Love Left

Word Count~1297
Comment below which one would you want to see turned into a full blown book?

The tension in Avéya's apartment was suffocating. The rain outside beat against the windows, but it was nothing compared to the storm brewing between her and the man standing in her doorway.

King Von.

Drenched from the rain, eyes dark with something unreadable, he barely acknowledged her before zeroing in on Malik—the one who had opened the door.

His whole demeanor shifted the second he saw another man in her space. "The fuck is this?" His voice was low, controlled, but Avéya knew that tone. It was the kind that came right before shit got real.

Malik crossed his arms, unfazed. "Your replacement."

Von's nostrils flared.

Avéya pushed between them before he could move, planting her hands on Von's soaked hoodie. "Stop it, Von. You don't get to act like this after what you did."

He ignored her, still locked in on Malik, muscles tensed. "You real bold standing here like I won't drop your ass."

Malik smirked but didn't budge. "You already lost, nigga. She don't want you no more."

"Shut up, Malik," Avéya snapped, then turned back to Von. "You need to leave."

Von finally looked at her, his jaw tight. "So that's it? You really done with me?"

Avéya's throat tightened, but she forced herself to stand tall. "You don't love me, Von. You just love knowing I'll always come back."

Something flickered in his eyes—hurt, maybe. But it disappeared just as quickly. He let out a cold chuckle, shaking his head. "Aight. Bet." He stepped back, his stare lingering on her one last time. "Don't call me when shit get real, Avéya. Remember that."

Then he was gone, his presence lingering like the scent of rain and gunpowder.

The Days That Followed

Avéya should've known Von wouldn't let her go that easily.

The next morning, she woke up to a text from an unknown number: You really think I'ma let you move like this? Bet.

By noon, her girls were calling, saying Von was asking questions, showing up at places she used to go, making sure everyone knew she was still his.

By night, she spotted his black Hellcat parked across from her building.

The second day, Malik called, voice tight with frustration. "Yo, tell your ex to keep his little soldiers in check. They ran up on me at the gas station talkin' 'bout 'stay away from her.'"

The third day, she found a Cartier bracelet—the one Von had given her for her birthday—sitting neatly on her car's windshield. No note. Just a message.

By the fourth day, she had enough.

Pulling Up on O'Block

Avéya gripped the steering wheel so hard her knuckles turned white. Her heart pounded in her chest as she navigated through the South Side, the familiar streets leading her straight into Von's world.

O'Block.

She wasn't stupid. She knew what kind of message she was sending by showing up here. She wasn't just another girl, and Von wasn't just another man. He was him. Untouchable. Dangerous. But he was also the man who had loved her in ways no one else had. And hurt her in ways she wasn't sure she could ever forgive.

She pulled up to the curb and stepped out, ignoring the stares from his people. The ones who recognized her didn't say shit. They just watched, whispering to each other.