“Who is that?” Yatta asked, not recognizing Ria from behind.

“Ria with her dumb self,” Kennedy stated with disgust.

“I swear if she say something to you, I’ma duff her,” Yatta said.

“Please, she don’t want it with neither one of us.”

They strolled by, totally ignoring Ria as she continued to yell obscenities at the guard. Kennedy simply waved at the guard. He pressed the button without hesitation, allowing them to pass through the turnstile. This further infuriated Ria, who then turned all her attention and rage toward Kennedy, “I know you see me, you high sididdy whore.”

Yatta advanced in Ria’s direction with her fist balled, but Kennedy pulled her back. “I got this,” Kennedy said. “You must be feeling yaself today, you wack-ass, bum-ass bitch. Do like the man said, get the fuck up outta with that stalker shit.”

“You got me twisted,” Ria retorted. “I don’t have to stalk the man that I already got two children by and one on the way.” Ria opened her full-length sable coat, revealing her protruding belly.

Kennedy’s eyes locked in on Ria’s stomach, “Come again?”

“Oh, you heard me the first time. This one”—Ria pointed at her abdomen—“is his too.”

The guard’s mouth dropped. Yatta looked at Kennedy, who had a weird look on her face while silently staring at Ria’s stomach.

“You’re expecting again? Me too.” Kennedy smiled. “That’s what’s up. Congratulations,” she said, then proceeded onto the elevator.

Upstairs in the spacious studio, Strick was sitting at the sound board with an up-and-coming producer and an engineer. Chaz stood inside the booth, laying down verses for a new single. A few of the label’s artists and staff were sitting around on couches, along with the usual groupies and do boys. When Kennedy breezed into the room, everyone greeted her, but she didn’t respond. She opened the door that led to the other side of the glass. “Kennedy,” Strick called out, “what are you doing? We’re in the middle of a song.” He looked back at Yatta, who was standing in the doorway. Yatta shook her head and ran her finger across her throat, as if to say, Just leave it alone.

“Kennedy, I was recording. What’s up?” Chaz asked, removing his large headphones. It was hard for him to read her face since it was blank.

Calmly, Kennedy spoke, “I just saw Ria downstairs.” She paused to study his reaction. He had no immediate one, so Kennedy continued, “She was more than happy to let me know that she’s pregnant.”

Chaz didn’t utter a word.

“That’s not it, though—she says it’s yours.”

The whole room gasped. They’d heard everything courtesy of the mic, which was on. Strick looked back at Yatta, who was standing in the same spot with her mouth twisted to the side and her arms folded across her chest.

Still quiet, Chaz’s eyes shifted around the booth but never landed on Kennedy.

“I need you to look at me, ’cause I’m wondering why you on mute. At this point, you should be saying Ria buggin’, she ain’t having no baby by me. I haven’t fucked her. Instead, you not saying shit!” Kennedy’s voice got louder with each word. “Why the fuck is that, Chaz?”