Chapter Text
Genesis pulled up in front of her father’s house and let out a long sigh before turning off the ignition.
Today was supposed to be a celebration.
Daddy’s deal with the Russians had gone through without a hitch, and apparently all because of some interpreter he’d met practically yesterday.
She let out a dry laugh.
Meanwhile, she’d been asking to get more involved in the family business for years.
Here, Gen. Get the lounge off the ground first. Let’s see how that goes…then we’ll talk.
That had been two years ago. Well...two and a half, to be exact.
Two and a half years of running the lounge. Growing revenue. Proving she could handle responsibility, people, pressure.
And still...here she was.
Outside looking in.
Yet somehow this woman—this Nina St. James—walked in and suddenly Daddy couldn’t stop talking about her. Royce couldn’t stop talking about her.
A woman Daddy had let into his inner circle without a second thought.
Genesis flipped down the visor mirror and applied a fresh coat of lipstick.
She could admit she wasn’t in the best mood either.
She and Daphne had gotten into another fight right before she left. Their second one this week.
Funny.
Playing runaway bride had been exciting for Daphne in the beginning.
And Genesis, well, she’d loved playing the role of her savior.
It felt romantic. Maybe even a little dangerous.
Two girls against the world.
But turns out the princess wasn’t really built for roughing it after all.
Genesis wasn't exactly hurting for money. She was Ezra Saxton's daughter. She had an allowance, connections, and a healthy cut of the lounge's profits.
But Daphne had a serious spending habit. And a blow habit too.
Habits Genesis never really noticed until she became her girlfriend’s only source of income.
“Greek Sal” gave his precious daughter a choice.
Come back.
Be a good girl and follow the rules.
Or get cut off, for good.
And Genesis could see it in her eyes.
Daphne was doing the math.
Wondering if any of this was really worth it.
If she was worth it.
Genesis pressed her lips together and checked her reflection one last time.
Whatever.
Daphne would have to figure out what was best for herself.
And honestly, Genesis was over it.
Maybe she really should leave straight girls alone.
She exited her car, adjusting her outfit, plastering a practiced smile on her face as she walked toward the front door.
At least today she’d finally get to meet the mysterious Nina St. James.
The woman who apparently deserved a seat at her daddy’s table.
______
“You must be Nina,” Genesis said, looking her over with open curiosity. “The woman of my baby brother’s dreams.”
Royce looked up, mouth full of a pig in a blanket. “Shut the fuck up, Genesis.”
Genesis ignored him. Her attention stayed on Nina.
“And I can see why,” she said with a smile as she stepped forward and extended her hand. “Hi.”
Nina took it.
The handshake was polite on the surface, but perhaps it lingered just a second too long.
“I’ve heard only good things,” Nina said.
Genesis lifted an eyebrow.
Hmmm. So this is her…the infamous Russian interpreter. The woman who already seemed to have both her daddy and brother wrapped around her finger.
Genesis studied her for another second.
Yeah…she could see it.
Nina was attractive, actually, very attractive. A tiny thing, but she carried herself with a kind of confidence that filled the room. Genesis noticed it right away. The woman had style too, she was almost tempted to ask where she’d gotten those boots.
Something about Nina felt familiar, like the girls she used to chase after in college.
But there was something else. Something she couldn’t quite place yet.
Genesis spent the next hour watching Nina move through her father’s house, how easily she slipped into conversation, how effortlessly she drew Royce into her orbit like gravity had shifted.
She loved her baby brother, but he turned into an absolute cornball around women like this.
Helpless. Predictable.
Genesis clicked her tongue under her breath.
Then came her father’s speech in the kitchen, openly lavishing Nina with praise as if she wasn’t standing right there hearing every word.
And then—the skillet bread.
The family recipe. Reserved for occasions that supposedly mattered.
“Thank you for helping save our deal…and my son’s life,” Ezra said, cutting the bread and handing Nina the very first slice.
Genesis winced. Something in her chest tightened.
She’d never been allowed the first piece. Not once. Not ever.
She sucked her teeth softly, keeping her expression composed even as irritation settled under her skin.
It had been a long time since Genesis had felt both annoyed by and attracted to someone at the same time.
Nina St. James managed both in under an hour.