"I'm sorry." I say sincerely through the phone.
Her beautiful eyes bloodshot and her nose reddened from crying, she looks at me wearily.
"I'm...I'm so tired." She sighs, her voice muffled through the static of the line.
"We're going to fix it oka...
For the readers of Underbelly, you hate me. I know. I really want to say I'm sorry but I'd be lying. Like bold face lying. But guess what? I love you sooooooo much. **big smooch, big smooch.**
For those of you entering for the first time, you should read Underbelly first. This will make no sense without reading the first one. These characters have a rich history that you need to understand, LOFL!
Don't steal this shit cause it's not nice.
ALSO this is a work of FICTION. Everything in this story is FAKE. This story is not AFFILIATED with Central Cee or his associates. The way LIVE YOUR MOVIE is depicted in this story is not REAL. All depictions of Central Cee and his associates and their brand in this story is a work of FICTION. I am NOT from the UK so all of the UK related topics, are from GOOGLE. If it's wrong my bad. Do not take this serious, it's not that deep. Just a work of fiction from my head das all.
All rights reserved
Trigger warnings as listed; Drugs, sexual content, alcohol, graphic descriptions of murder, gang violence, death, self harm, and probably a lot more. This is a dark romance, so if that is not for you please turn around. I assure you there is something lighter in my works for you to enjoy <3.
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Something bout Oakley in a white tee and jeans.
Something about Wadz in all black.
Now vice verse.
Now both.
Walid Hassan Ouarzazate, Morocco Two years Later
The pounding of the regadda music echoed in the desert night. A light breeze picked some sand up and the fire pit kicked up embers as the drums beat and the flutes played. Ameena stood up in her pink takchita next to the dancers and they handed her a very meticulously carved stick. The circle of people went wild, my mothers laughter is heard as she watches Ameena with proud eyes.
