The door had barely finished swinging shut when Maka yanked open the trash can and yanked out the envelope.
She wasn't going to read it. She just didn't want it sitting there, like a stain on her floor.
She tossed it onto the counter like it burned her fingers and turned back to the rack of unfinished dresses. Her hands moved automatically, adjusting a hem here, smoothing fabric there. But her mind wouldn't let her focus.
Khalil Bennett. CEO. Suit too sharp, smile too smug. Eyes like he could see through you.
He didn't walk like a man who was used to hearing "no." And he definitely didn't leave like one who accepted it.
Her phone buzzed. Zara 💅🏾
Zara: Girl. Tell me you didn't throw hands with the real estate guy.
Maka: No hands. Just words. Sharp ones.
Zara: I knew it! 😩 You are so unserious. That man is fine. I would've let him buy me AND the building.
Maka: That's why you don't own anything.
Zara: Damn. Just say you hate me 😂
Zara: Anyway. Pull up to the salon later. We're talking strategy.
Maka smiled — briefly. Zara had been her day-one since high school. Ride-or-die, loud-mouthed, and always ready to fight anyone who disrespected Maka's dream. But even she had been side-eyeing Maka's refusal to sell.
They all had.
That night, the salon buzzed with the usual mix of gossip and blow dryers. The smell of coconut oil and flat irons lingered in the air as Maka slipped into the back, where Zara was finishing up a client's curls.
Zara gave her a look through the mirror. "So… how bad was it?"
Maka dropped into the worn swivel chair across from her. "He's slick. Real smooth. The kind that probably talks people out of their soul."
"Mmm. My type."
"Zara."
"Okay, okay. What'd he say?"
"He offered a fat check. Then tried to smile me into submission. Like I'm supposed to just fold because he wears cufflinks."
Zara raised an eyebrow. "You sure that's all he tried to do?"
Maka frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"I'm saying… people like him, they don't play fair. They use charm, gifts, whispers, whatever they gotta do. Especially if they're losing."
Maka's stomach twisted. She wanted to believe she could stay unaffected. That she could stand her ground and not feel that heat that had flickered between them.
But she wasn't blind. Khalil wasn't just smooth — he was intense. Like he didn't just want her building… he wanted to know what made her tick.
And that was the real danger.
Zara leaned closer, lowering her voice. "Look. I know you're trying to hold it down for the community. For your mom. For your brother. But this battle you're fighting? It's not just business anymore."
Maka stayed quiet. Because she knew Zara was right.
It wasn't just about the lease.
It was about power. About not letting someone else define her worth.
She stood up. "He can knock on every door on this block. Mine stays shut."
Zara smirked. "That's until you let him in through the window."
"Never."
But even as she said it, her heart knew better.
Because some windows don't open.
They break.