Miles has always been able to keep his professional and personal life separate. Then he met Gianna Graye.

" ᴛʀᴏᴜʙʟᴇᴅ ꜱᴏᴜʟ " 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙞𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙖𝙩 𝙥𝙚𝙖𝙘𝙚 , 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙜𝙜𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣, 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙨𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙨 𝙪𝙣𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙖𝙣𝙮𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙨 𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙨𝙚

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.

He holds her heels. She lets her guard down. And in the space between city lights and silence, two people who weren't looking for love start to feel something they can't explain. No drama. No rush. Just raw connection and a spark that won't quit.

"𝖫𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗐𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗈𝗇 𝖼𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗋𝖺"-𝗗𝗿𝗮𝗸𝗲

𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌.. ©️𝙽𝙴𝙸𝙰𝚆𝚁𝙸𝚃𝙴𝚂𝚂

- Yeah, I'm mad at you And I know I fucked up, well damn look how you move -

Emoni Brown. - My girl's like candy, a candy treat She knocks me high up off my feet Ongoing