Laila Brewster didn't need a rapper. She had money before him, motion without him, and standards too high for bare minimum. But then Raymir Moore sat beside her in class, saw the Chanel, the attitude, and the pretty face, then realized she was smart and funny too... and after that, leaving her alone was never really an option. Now BabyfxceRay got fans screaming his name, blogs in his business, and one girl he keep telling the whole world he's obsessed with. And Laila? She just wanted to pass Consumer Behavior.

"Damn. Hasn't even been that long and you got a whole rock on your finger now, huh?" "...What are you doing here?" She unthinkingly rubbed her swollen belly, the tight knots forming in her stomach at the same time. "What you mean? I came for the art." His tone was sarcastic as he gestured at the paintings on the walls. She watched his eyes drift down her body, before he tightly clenched his jaw. "But I see I have more than one thing to congratulate you on." He said, bitterly. • • • • • • 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛? ❤️‍🩹👻 𝙱𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝟸 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚅𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 (𝚜𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚕)

"She not like the others, Ma. She real." Phoenyx spoke with conviction. "She makes me feel-" "Like a bitch." Persephone cut in, raising off of the couch. "You lettin' her soften you up. I ain't raise you to be no simp." "Forreal, Ma?" Phoenyx felt the heat rising to his face, a mixture of embarrassment and anger. "Why can't you just let me have this?" "Have what?" Persephone scoffed. "This shit ain't you. You gon' start actin' like somebody's fuckin' husband now? You think love gon' save you in these streets?" • • • • • • 𝙰 𝚗𝚎𝚐𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚊 𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚎. ❤️‍🔥👻 𝙱𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝟹 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚅𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 (𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚗-𝚘𝚏𝚏)

𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒅𝒐 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒐𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 ? 𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝒅𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏 𝒕𝒐 ?

She moved on like he never existed. But he remembers everything-and he's not done. Love turned into possession in a twisted game of fame, control, and unfinished desire.

Two energies collide with emotions so strong, neither could understand. Will they allow the charge to reignite their hearts, or will the current cause a dangerous overload...

𝗟𝗶𝗳𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗮 𝗳𝘂𝗹𝗹 𝗰𝗶𝗿𝗰𝗹𝗲.

Before the crowds screamed his name, before the league talks and the magazine covers, he met her. Calista Marchand. Not the kind of girl you run game on. She was sharp where it counted, soft only when she wanted to be. Real Brooklyn - pretty in the face, slick with the mouth, and solid with her hands if you stepped wrong. She kept her circle small, her loyalty tighter. The kind of woman who knew how to turn silence into safety and side-eyes into shut-ups. Men feared her. Girls tried to be her. She didn't chase, didn't fold, didn't need nobody. Until Ibrahim Montaigne walked into her life like he had all the time in the world. He didn't come with sweet nothings or flashy promises - just steady presence. Intent in his eyes, patience in his chest, and something rare behind the way he looked at her. Like he saw through the polish and the fire, like he knew the woman behind the defense. He didn't try to tame her. He studied her. Let her be exactly who she was. The shift was slow. She still fought when needed, still had a rep in the streets and in the salon chair. But somewhere between nursing exams and late-night block parties, she started saving parts of herself just for him. The quiet parts. The delicate ones. The ones nobody else got close to. And when she crossed that graduation stage, RN-BSN stitched behind her name and her grandmother crying in the crowd - he bragged harder than anyone. Didn't care who was listening. Forget MVP, forget the championship rings. She was the win. She was the headline. The girl from Brooklyn with spitfire in her lungs, gold in her smile, and a softness only he ever got to see. This isn't a story about being chosen. It's about choosing each other. No fairytales. Just Brooklyn grit and a love that never let go.