Page 18 of All's Fair In Love & War

“It was me. I developed the rotation schedule, coded logs, and contingency plans in case of a potential raid. I’ve tracked every missing ounce that has ever been stolen from us back to the ones stealing from us, and I never once made a scene. I let my father take the credit because the men in this room would’ve lost their minds if they knew a woman solved a problem they couldn’t.”

A few faces twitched. Good.

“When the cops started sniffing around after that shootout at the Northside convention center, who do you think cleaned it up? I called in the hazmat team, staged a fake inspection, and had the bodies gone before sunrise. It was me who kept the family’s name clean, and I didn’t need to pull a trigger to do it.”

I paused, letting that sink in. A few of them shifted in their seats, glancing around like they’d just remembered they were playing chess and I’d already taken their queen.

“You want to talk about strategy? About political leverage? I was the one who set up meetings between our clinic’s board and city council candidates, got them funded, got them in office, and then reminded them who cut the check when itcame time to sign hospital contracts. Y’all brag about the clinics now, but I was the one who made sure they didn’t get raided when Monroe’s crew caught a body in our basement. I cleaned the blood, replaced the staff, redirected the press, and convinced inspectors it was a flu outbreak. You know how long that took? Twelve hours. No muscle. Just me, a burner phone, and a clipboard.

I leaned forward slightly, tone cool and unshaken.

“I picked the staff y’all trust with your lives—receptionists, drivers, lab rats, all of ‘em. Half the men who work in our clinics were vetted by me because I could smell a snitch before they ever opened their mouths. I de-escalated a turf war before it even started between our own men when you were too busy counting profits. I also negotiated my marriage with the BulgaribeforeI fell in love and ever wore this ring. And when my father was battling cancer,” I said, making everyone’s mouth hit the floor.

“Oh, you didn’t know about that, right?” I chuckled humorlessly while shaking my head. “It was me who stepped in quietly, so no one would ever know our house had a weak spot.” My voice dropped, low and dangerous. “And when that reporter got too close to our family, I sent him packing with a fake job, a fake promotion, and a real warning. That article about our clinics and other businesses never saw daylight.”

I stood straighter, letting the weight of every word settle across the table like smoke.

“So don’t sit here and ask me who’s running things. Don’t mistake the volume of my voice for the depth of my reach. You don’t know half of what I’ve done for this family, because real power doesn’t announce itself. It moves in silence and takes the creditafterthe dust settles.”

I paused, then smiled—cold and earned.

“And if any of you forget that I have no problem reminding you who you’re fucking with.”

Turning my back on everyone, I tapped a few buttons and spoke into my watch, “Bring him in.”

The door opened seconds later.

Riley entered first, her eyes sweeping over the room, her bold confidence speaking louder than she ever could. Right behind her was Sophia, gun drawn, steady as ever, holding a man between them who looked like he’d just realized today was not going to end in his favor. His hands were up, his lip bloodied, and he stumbled as they shoved him forward.

Every head turned, chairs scraped, and conversations died on the vine. Riley, Sophia, and I were beautiful enigmas. Women whom men couldn’t quite place but should’ve known better than to underestimate. We weren’t meant to ask for permission, and we sure as hell didn’t carry an apology on our tongues.

We weren’t raised to be soft or silent. We were carved from war stories, mothered by survival, and taught to lead with a stillness that unsettled the room. We didn’t just belong at the table. Wewerethe table. Built from blood, bound by loyalty, and ready to crush anyone foolish enough to think we’d sit pretty and wait our turn.

The table was built to keep us out. It was passed down like a relic, guarded by rules written in blood and arrogance, but tradition bends when Black women enter with intention. We redefined the rules, dressed in poise and defiance, rewriting history with every step we took. And when we stood together—three Black women in a room built to exclude us—what we held wasn’t just presence.

It was power.

Riley was steel in stilettos—lips glossed, eyes cold, always two steps ahead with a plan. Sophia moved like smoke, soft andlethal. She’d smile as she sliced through your lie, never raising her voice, never breaking a sweat. And me? I was still learning how to sit in this seat without shrinking. Still figuring out how to lead without becoming what I hated, but I wasn’t afraid anymore. Not of failing, and not of them, especially with my girls by my side.

We were the shift they didn’t see coming. The women whispered about behind closed doors, too bold, too mean, too much. And still, not enough for them to admit we were necessary.

But we were here now, and we weren’t going anywhere. This was the moment they’d been waiting for, and I was done making them wait.

“Gentlemen,” I turned to the table, spine straight, chin high. “Since there’s confusion, let me clear it up. I’m my father’s daughter. He was fair, compassionate, and ruthless when he needed to be. But I’m also my mother’s. She was quiet, calculated, and deadly in ways none of you ever saw coming… for a woman who shrank herself to please you all.”

“Now me?” I pressed a hand to my chest, voice low but steady. “By the time you second-guess me, I’ve already made my point—in blood. My father was the force, my mother the foresight, but I’m the brain, and without the brain, the whole damn body shuts down.”

I walked toward the center of the room, letting the silence settle thick in the air, the tension crackling. Naeem didn’t say a word, but I could feel his eyes on me, studying. Waiting.

“This man,” I continued, gesturing toward the traitor now on his knees between Riley and Sophia, “was handpicked by someone sitting at this very table. He was vouched for, trusted, and embedded, and yet, I caught him. Not my guards. Not my husband. Me. You wanted proof I belong in this seat?” I leaneddown slightly, locking eyes with the man trembling on the floor. “You’re looking at it.”

I let my words linger, let them soak in. Then, with one sharp nod to Sophia, I added, “Take out the trash.”

Sophia cocked her head, lips parted just enough to let her smile peek through. Then she pulled the trigger. A single shot rang out. Clean. Controlled. Unapologetic. The sound cracked through the room, and the man dropped like dead weight, his blood blooming across the floor like spilled wine.

Then silence.

His gaze shifted, but mine didn’t. My eyes were trained on Naeem. He didn’t blink, and didn’t flinch, but I knew him too well not to notice the tightness in his jaw, and the way his nostrils flared just once before he masked it.

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