𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 | ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴇ ʙᴏᴏᴋ

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐄 | 𝐏𝐞𝐝𝐫𝐨 𝐏𝐚𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐥

𝐏𝐞𝐝𝐫𝐨 𝐏𝐚𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐬 𝐈𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐞𝐥 𝐂𝐫𝐮𝐳

"Girl, if you don't bring your little bald-headed ass on, I swear to God I'm leaving you in this car!" Divinity snapped, one manicured hand on the steering wheel and the other tapping against it like she was keeping tempo with her attitude.

I sighed, staring out the passenger window at the glowing Miami skyline. I should've known better than to make this impatient heffa my best friend. But when you click with somebody instantly—same humor, same hustle, same chaotic energy—you've only got two options: fall in love or become best friends. Lucky for her, I don't swing that way, so best friends it is.

"I didn't even wanna come to this mess anyway," I muttered, pointing at her. "You're the one who opened that message and replied without asking me!"

"Uh, yeah? Because why would I pass up a chance to hit the most exclusive club in Miami?" she said, flicking her baby hairs in the mirror. "You know how many rich sugar daddies could be up in there? Girl, I could pay off my student loans and still have money left over for brunch."

I groaned. Typical Divinity. She was wild, dramatic, and reckless—but she was also real. We'd both been through too much to pretend we had it all together. Residency had us broke, tired, and halfway to a mental breakdown. The only difference was that I hid my chaos better.

"Look, D," I said quietly, my voice dipping into warning. "Those people in there? They're not good people. Don't try nothing. No matter how smart you think you are, they'll find a way to finesse. Don't make no deals and don't entertain none of those men. Promise"

Divinity rolled her eyes. "For real??"

"Yes," I said, pushing open the car door. "Promise."

"I promise." She groaned.

"Great," I said, locking the car. "Now come on before I change my mind."

We crossed the parking lot, the night thick with humidity and the bass from the club shaking the ground beneath our heels. The line outside stretched around the block, but when the bouncer caught sight of me, he unhooked the rope and waved us through.

Divinity's jaw dropped. "Girl, how close are you to Ismael Cruz?! Is that why you told me not to—bitch, what kind of double life you living?"

I laughed, flipping my hair. "If taking my wig off at night counts as a double life, then yeah. But nah, me and Ismael go way back—three years to be exact. We had a falling out, but we good now."

She blinked, still trying to piece it together as we stepped inside. The air was heavy with cologne, money, and bad decisions. Lights flashed red and gold, cutting through smoke and the pulse of reggaeton that made the walls breathe.

I grabbed her hand and led her toward our usual group posted up near the VIP section.

"Look who finally decided to join the party!" April shrieked, throwing her arms around me. She smelled like Hennessy and heartbreak.