Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 140940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 705(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 705(@200wpm)___ 564(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
Emily hissed. “He’s not going to die.”
Valentina slowly nodded. “He is not.”
Emily gestured to one of my people. “Get Max’s tree, Lemonisha along with his music. I want him to see his tree and hear jazz when he wakes up.”
The man nodded and rushed off.
Emily put her view back on Tisha. “Why haven’t you said anything about what happened in the club?”
He kept a neutral expression. “I was out of the club after the first two explosions.”
What?
I stiffened.
My mouse studied him. “How did you get out so fast?”
“I was in the men’s bathroom in the back stall. The building rocked. I caught the sound of gunshots being fired. I didn’t have a weapon on me, so I opened the window and climbed out to get everyone help.”
Emily flicked the safety off the gun. “You just happened to be in the bathroom when everything went down?”
Tisha eyed the gun.
I was sure Valentina noticed the move too because she widened her eyes and gazed at me.
Relax, sister. I trust my mouse.
Emily kept the gun at her side. “You said you were in the stall. Doing what? Taking a dump?”
Tisha sighed. “I was. . .”
Emily sneered. “What?”
“I had a woman in the stall with me, and she was performing oral sex—”
“You were getting head while my brother was getting shot in the fucking chest?”
“Kazimir told me that I was off tonight—”
Fast.
Emily moved fast.
In less than half a second.
No longer than one blink of an eye.
Had I not known she had been next to me earlier, I would have always thought she was right in front of Tisha with the point of her gun pressed against his cheek.
My heart. . .raced.
Drumming a beat of fear I had never known.
I held my breath.
Tisha didn’t move.
He didn’t even blink.
Valentina parted her lips.
And my mouse’s voice turned so icy a shudder ran down my spine. “Say that again for me, Tisha.”
Somehow he kept his composure with the gun pressed against his face.
Emily raised her voice. “I didn’t hear that. Did you say that you were on a break tonight? Vacation? A little self-care moment due to the stress of the job?”
“There is no excuse, Emily. I fucked up. I put Kazimir, you, and everyone else at risk.”
“But did the woman get out with you or did you leave her ass in the stall? How fast did you try to get us help?”
He swallowed. “I helped her climb out of the window.”
Tisha. . .
The tension in the hallway grew thick.
Valentina didn’t even look that way. Clearly, she had been through enough tonight. There was no way she could watch Emily kill our cousin.
I couldn’t either, but I refused to look away.
Did I want him to die?
No.
Never.
But what could I do?
I put a ring on my mouse’s finger for a reason, not just because she was beautiful, not due to her sweet pussy or her big heart.
I made her mine because she was smart, deadly, and acted fast in the toughest times.
She knew when to lead.
She knew when to listen.
She brought joy during horror. She was my light in the darkness.
And I trapped her to me long ago. . .because she saved me in New York. . .when many had plotted my death. . .and since we’ve been together, she has continued to save my life and make it better.
That meant that if she thought Tisha should die. . .I would stand by it.
There would be no doubts.
There would be no questioning her.
This was the rule of our world.
And this was the silent pact that I made with my mouse when I put that ring on her finger.
I slowly returned to breathing.
Silence.
This spooky, freezing cold silence hung around us.
Not even my men moved or dared to breathe.
Emily stood, gun pressed firmly against Tisha’s face, her arm steady, betraying none of the turmoil that probably raged within her small frame.
Tisha, despite the cold metal against his skin, maintained an eerie calm too, as his eyes remained locked on Emily.
Each second stretched into eternity.
Then, Valentina put her gaze on me. Fear and disbelief ran through her eyes, and there was this silent pleading for me to intervene.
But I remained still, rooted to the spot, understanding the sacred, unspoken rules of our world where actions bore consequences, where accountability was not just expected but demanded.
How many times had I killed Emily’s men for making a fraction of the mistake Tisha had made?
How many bullets had I put in Harlem Crew’s heads?
Therefore, I could not say anything.
Yet, still this unbearable pressure rose in my core, making my chest feel tight and constricted.
Rapid, shallow breaths left me.
I did my best to make sure no one noticed. I wanted so bad to clutch at my heart to try to physically contain the anxious pounding within, but I refused to move.
Instead, I blinked through the pressure.
And Valentina watched me and frowned, probably knowing exactly what I was struggling with.