Breed Me, Daddy Alpha-Chapter 96

Lyra

But instead of saying all that, I just folded my arms and hissed.

"God is watching you, Tasha. From heaven. With judgment and lightning bolts. So I hope your playlist is worth it."

She snorted, completely unbothered.

"I’m making jollof rice. Do you want to help or do you want to sit there and relive your trauma over a boy who peaked in what grade agIn?"

I hissed louder.

But I got up anyway.

Because I knew how this night was going to go.

There would be music. There would be drinks. There would be dancing. And there would be Marcus. In my space. Looking hot. Acting like we never happened. And knowing me?

There would be consequences.

God help me.

We were in the kitchen ten minutes later, sleeves rolled up, pot already on the fire, and me aggressively chopping onions like they personally insulted my ancestors. The scent of frying tomatoes was rising in the air, and so was my blood pressure.

Tasha was doing that annoying thing where she danced with the spoon like she was in a music video, flipping her braids like she hadn’t just emotionally sucker-punched me.

I stared at her.

Then I blinked.

Then I snapped, "How did you even invite Marcus anyway? Wasn’t he in some country or some shit? I swear he posted a picture like last week with that fake Cartier watch and a backdrop of red dust."

Tasha didn’t look up from the pot.

"We’ve been texting."

I dropped the onion knife.

"You’ve been what?"

She shrugged. "We talk sometimes."

"You’ve been texting my ex?"

She stirred the stew, unbothered. "Yeah. He hit me up a while ago. Said he was coming back to town. I told him we might be throwing a party. He said he might pull up."

I blinked again, dramatically this time.

"So... you’re friends with my ex now?"

She gave me a look. "We’re not friends. We’re just cool."

I gasped, pressing a hand to my chest like someone had stabbed me with a wooden spoon.

"Wow. That’s so nice. Truly. That’s the kind of sisterhood I live for. I’m over here crying in the bathtub about him, meanwhile you’re texting like ’Hey boo, what flight you on?’ Are you gonna braid his hair next? Swap skincare tips? Help him pick a suit for his next heartbreak victim?"

Tasha sighed like she was already tired of my existence.

"Lyra, calm down."

"No, I will not calm down, Tasha. Because this is betrayal. Biblical betrayal. Like Judas with better eyebrows. You’re supposed to be my best friend, not his long-distance pen pal!"

She hissed and tossed in more seasoning like she was trying to shut me up with flavor.

"I’m not in love with him, babe. I just invited him to a party. You’re not that deep."

"I am that deep!" I shrieked, flinging Maggi cubes onto the counter like they were evidence. "He saw me naked emotionally. He held my heart in his crusty palm and crushed it like chin chin! And you’re telling me I’m overreacting because he’s now bringing a bottle and vibes?"

She stirred harder. I stirred harder. We were both stirring like this pot held the secrets of the universe.

I muttered under my breath the entire time.

"Texting my ex. Bringing him to my house. This is a witch’s coven. I live with a witch. My best friend is a witch."

Tasha ignored me.

I side-eyed her.

She danced to Burna Boy on the speaker.

I pouted like a child.

But the food was starting to smell good. And my mouth, as usual, couldn’t stop even when I tried.

"I swear, if he touches me tonight, I’ll slap him. Or bite off his balls . Or slap him then hit his balls. No, wait, that’s toxic. Jesus. This is why I need therapy and a muzzle."

She didn’t respond.

And then

Like movie magic, like a TikTok transformation edit, like a sudden drop in GPA the doorbell rang.

And just like that... it began.

The house had transformed.

Tasha’s playlist was bouncing through the speakers like the walls were having a party of their own. There were bodies everywhere. People from school. People I didn’t know.

A few girls from her cousin’s class doing shots and talking about cheating respectfully. Some guy in a bucket hat rolling weed on the dining table like it was a spiritual ritual.

I stood near the snacks, dressed in my scandalous little black dress that barely covered my regrets, clutching a red cup like it was a lifeline. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

My stomach was already bubbling with anxiety.

Tasha came swaying past me, laughing, her phone in her hand.

She paused, looked over her shoulder, and smirked.

"Guess who just texted."

My heart stopped.

"Who?"

She turned the screen around.

One word.

Marcus.

Then a second text.

"Outside."

I nearly choked on air.

And that was when the music dropped into something slow, something sexy, something that screamed you’re about to be tested by the universe, and the front door creaked open.

He stepped in.

Looking fine.

Looking taller.

Looking like every memory I tried to bury under ice cream and motivational quotes.

And his eyes?

They found me instantly.

And I?

Was so not ready.