Page 73 of Vega

“Prodigy,” she called in a warning tone.

“Ma, I have to find him.”

“I just don’t want you to be let down when you do. I lived through how hurt you were when he left. I don’t want to see you hurt all over again because of him.”

“I really don’t think he just left, Ma.”

She looked at me with so much sympathy for my naivety. “Okay, baby… Okay.”

My grandmother caught my mother’s eyes as she watched us from nearby with her hands clasped over her chest.

“You better dance with the birthday girl next,” Ma warned.

“I already planned to.”

I kissed Ma’s cheek and walked over to my grandmother.

“May I have this dance, beautiful?”

Her entire face brightened. “I thought you would never ask.”

I took her hand carefully and led her onto the floor. She moved slower than Ma, so I adjusted to her pace, keeping one hand secure around hers and the other at her back.

“Eighty looks good on you,” I told her.

“Boy, I know.”

I laughed.

“When are you going to find yourself a good woman?” my grandmother asked.

I looked away for a moment, feeling the shame. “I think I did.”

Her hand tightened around mine. “What happened?”

“I lost her.”

The admission felt heavier out loud.

My grandmother studied my face with sympathy. “If she truly loved you, she’ll come back.”

“I hope so.”

Arielle’s absence had forced me to look at everything I had avoided while she was still within reach. I had spent years telling myself I wasn’t ready for commitment, but losing her made me question whether I had only been afraid of wanting something real.

Now, I wanted her back badly enough to believe I might finally be ready for it.

At that moment, Ma stepped closer, and I reached for her hand without releasing my grandmother. The three of us danced together beneath the chandeliers while relatives smiled, clapped, and lifted their phones to record us.

For all the darkness attached to my name, these women still knew the version of me that loved without conditions. Around them, I wasn’t one of the Street Kings or a man people feared. I was simply my mother’s son and my grandmother’s baby.

14

VEGARRO “VEGA” MORETTI

The next morning, I watched Sonnet sleep through the cameras. She shifted beneath the blanket, rolled onto her side, then returned to her back a few minutes later. Even asleep, she couldn’t settle. Her brows drew together occasionally, as if whatever chased her while she was awake had followed her into her dreams.

I watched her chest rise and fall. Part of me wanted to go upstairs, climb into that bed, and pull her against me. I wanted to feel her breathing beneath my arm and know she was safe because I was there.