You loved your man down. Even if he was a little emotionless and more serious than your past relationships, you knew Smoke was the man for you for eternity.

You’d briefly told him you were going to shower after coming home from a long night out with your friends. He gave a noncommittal grunt in response from where he sat on the couch, hovered over his phone with his thumbs typing away at it. You’d given his thick beard a caress, eyeing the way he was dressed in all black, down to the socks with that gold chain around his neck, before hopping in the shower.

The thing with Smoke was you never had to worry about a thing when it came to him. He always had the income to dote on you, buying you all the new shoes and clothes you wanted. Even down to paying for trips to bougie ass islands and resorts off the coast. With Smoke, you were living big. How he made all that money though, you knew not to ask. It was obvious he was in shady business but him coming back home to you was what mattered most.

You were lathering up, about to soap down your arms when you heard the front door shut and then a new, higher pitched masculine voice float through your home. Your brows quirked. You quickly rinse off, drying yourself with your towel before throwing on your clothes so you could investigate who Smoke just let into y’all’s house.

You call out to him with a soft ‘baby’ and round the corner to the living room when your eyes fall on Smoke and his twin brother Stack sitting on the couch. Only thing is, there’s hoards of money between them. Some banded up, laying on the couch and some sitting loosely on the coffee table. You look over at Smoke and he’s got at least a band in his hands that are fanned out, obviously showing him in the middle of counting them.

Stack’s voice cuts through the air, setting down his own thick stack of cash he just finished counting before reaching for another. “What’s up, in law.” He nods his head at you as if this was the most casual scene to walk in on. But Smoke kept quiet. Well shit.