Dakina's Stories

Chapter ELEVEN Morning light spilled through the tall windows of the Flushing Queens Mansion, bouncing off marble floors & glass surfaces like the house itself was watching her.    Yeturah was ready. Mirror check, after mirror check, after mirror check. She stood in front of the full-length mirror, hands adjusting herself automatically. Tugging the Christian Dior two-piece just right. The fabric clung to her body like it was custom-molded: stretch knit hugging her waist, cinching her curves, riding high on her hips. The top was cropped but intentional, structured enough to scream luxury, soft enough to feel sinful. The Dior logo reflected subtly, not loud - confidence that didn't need to shout.    Her island twist fell down her back, scalp freshly oiled, swinging every time she shifted her weight. She turned sideways, checked again. Front. Back. Chin up. Shoulders back. Skin glowing, J'adore lotion layered everywhere: arms, breast, stomach, legs, inner thighs, ass. She...

Chapter TEN The mansion in Astoria Queens was quiet except for the tension radiating in the living room. Heavy curtains blocked fading the sunlight yet somehow the space felt electric. Yeturah leaned against the marble countertop, twists messy from the brawl hours ago, lips pressed tight. Jaw locked. Her navy Alo airbrush tights wrinkled from movement, sneakers scuffing against the floor. Novi stood on the opposite side, hands gripping the back of the leather chair, brow furrowed, leaning forward, voice calm & firm. "Baby girl. You need to control yourself. You can't keep bugging like this, it's too much & it's always going viral." Yeturah's eyes flashed, hands clinching into fists. Tina & Aisha were fully activated, Tina's cold & merciless energy pulsating while Aisha calculated, deviously plotting. "Control myself? You know why I beat that bitch up. You're acting like nothing happened like the bitch didn't say yall fucke...

Chapter NINE Avi Lanez studio pulsed with neon green energy. Walls glowing, chrome edges catching the light, cameras reflecting the brilliance like electricity. Fans, media, gossip. Novi Avi sat center, navy Alo men's hoodie & sweat set with the sneakers to match. Avi chain heavy over his chest, Avi watch flashing under the lights. Every gesture deliberate.   To his left sat Yeturah. Her navy Alo airbrush set femine, hugging every curve. Her twists falling long & sleek. Navy Alo headband, diamond studs, navy Alo sneakers, her custom YETI neckless at her collarbone. Her posture straight, shoulders slightly squared, eyes scanning, hands lightly clasped.   To Novi's right sat Brooklyn. She wore the wild rose Alo set, with the wild rose fitted cap & sneakers from Alo to match. Hoop earrings slinging, red bob flawless down her back, Macy's bracelet stacked on her wrist. Shoulders relaxed, hands on her lap, posture calm. Her anxiety unusually low, her energy grounde...

Chapter 8 03/14/2022 The Queens Supreme Courtroom smelled like old paper mixed with polished wood, and silent judgement. Brooklyn sat still, ankles crossed, hands folded over the leather portfolio Monique told her to bring even if she never opened it. Her burgundy bob was sleek, styled in a side part, pressed flat against her jawline. Framing a face that looked calm, but only because she trained herself to survive that way.    Inside her anxiety was loud. Not spiraling, or panicking. Just present like static under the skin. To her left, Monique Brown flipped through her files with surgical precision. Her dark melanated skin glowing, followed with sharp cheekbones. A stare that dared anyone to underestimate her. She didn't whisper encouragement to Brooklyn, she didn't need to, her confidence & demeanor was enough. Across the aisle, the Stewart's sat rigid. Mrs. Stewart's pearl necklace gleamed like armor. Mr. Stewart avoided eye contact with Brooklyn. Their lawy...

Chapter SEVEN 2 day since Yeturah last heard Novi's voice, 2 days since Novi hung up the phone on her, 2 days since the silence became too loud. Brooklyn felt it before Yeturah said anything out loud. The mansion in East New York was calm, too calm. Brooklyn sat at the kitchen island with a plate pulled close to her chest. Prada sleeves pushed up as she ate slowly. She reheated some salmon Alfredo, comfort food. She propped her phone up against her water bottle, talking to Romare has on FaceTime is something new both have been doing for the past 2 days. Not forced, rushed just vibes. "So you actually sat down to eat" he said as he watched her take a bite. Brooklyn smirked almost blushing "why you sound surprised?" He responded " because you move like you forgot to take care of yourself when things get hectic." She laughed softly "not you clocking me" he responded quickly "I don't mean it in a bad way, I like that you're intenti...

Chapter SIX Astoria was loud in that easy, lived-in way Brooklyn loved. Cars hissing past on damp pavement, snippets of conversation floating out of cafés, the low rumble of the train overhead. Today barely registered.     Stepping out of Rosé's headquarters with her shoulders tight, breath shallow, posture still professional out of habit. The meeting played over & over in her head whether she wanted it to or not. Questions disguised as concern, side glances, the unspoken "we're watching you now". She'd answered everything cleanly, calmly, refusing to give them anything they could twist. Adjusting the nude suit she wore, silky fabric catching the light with every step she took. Button-down smooth against her skin, jacket perfectly saturated, pants tailored to fall just right over her six inch Prada heels. She looked composed, expensive, & untouchable. No one would ever guess how loud her thoughts were.     "You survived?" Romare asked lightly...