DANCE WITH THE ENEMY

CHAPTER SEVEN

ZARIYAH

"Where is my son?" I grabbed one of Marco's men standing by the hallway.

"Boss's office. Down the hall," he replied, nodding in the direction.

I hurried there, my sore muscles protesting. Inside, Dylan sat amidst guards, watching animations on Marco's laptop.

"Mummy!" He jumped up and ran into my arms. I scooped him up, ignoring my pain. Tears of relief filled my eyes as I inhaled his coconut-scented fragrance with hints of vanilla and honey.

"Baby," I cooed, hugging him tightly.

"Mommy sad?" Dylan asked, peering up with his honey-colored eyes.

"Of course not, baby. I'm so happy to see you," I replied, pressing kisses to his cheeks.

He giggled and pushed my face away. "Tickles, Mummy!"

"Miss Mommy?" I teased.

"Yessss!" Dylan clapped, wrapping his tiny hands around my neck.

"Go home?" I asked.

"Yeeeah! Wanna Gran Nana!" Dylan exclaimed.

In the elevator, he sang, "Miss Mummy too! Miss Gran Nana!"

As we rode to the ground floor, Marco waited by the car. I ignored him and slid in. During the ride, Dylan fell asleep.

When we arrived, I carefully lifted him. "Let me carry him," Marco offered.

"Don't you dare touch my son!" I gritted, glaring.

He raised his hands in surrender, holding the car door open.

Nanny Rose rushed out, eyes red and stormy. "Cupcake! Oh my goodness, what happened to you?"

"Dylan's sleeping," I whispered.

She heaved a sigh when she saw Dylan sleeping on my chest. "Baby Dee. I'm so sorry, Zara. I don't know what happened. I just know I woke up and found myself here without Dee." She sobbed.

"It's alright, Nana. It's not your fault. I promise," I reassured.

"You're not mad?" she looked a bit taken aback.

"Of course not. I know you wouldn't intentionally put my son in harm's way, plus you raised me too, so I trust you," I replied.

Nanny Rose took Dylan, and I watched her carry him inside. Marco stopped me.

"Zariyah."

"You wash up. I'll have the doctor come to you," he said.

I ignored him.

"Zariyah, talk to me. Tell me how I can fix this Princess," he begged.

"Leave me alone and stay away from my son. That's how," I snapped.

Marco nodded, mouthing "Fine."

I hurried to my room, leaving him behind.

The doctor arrived as promised, patching me up and leaving medication before departing. I cuddled up in bed with Dylan beside me, clutching him close.

"Nanny Rose walked in carrying a tray of food. "Marco sent this?"

"I'm not hungry." I groaned, wanting to ignore everything related to that jerk.

"Want to talk about it?" Nanny Rose asked, taking a seat in the bed and combing her fingers through my hair.

"I'm not sure how you'd take it. Plus, I don't want to get you involved in this."

"You know I'll always be involved in whatever you're involved in, Cupcake," she said. "But it's fine if you don't want to talk. I trust you and I trust that whatever you're doing is best for you and Little Dee. That's all that matters."

"And good for you too, Nana. You're my family. You've always been, and you'll always be. You and Dee are all I've got." I assured her, peering into her teary eyes.

"You, my child, are all that matters to me. You and Dee. I'll always be here for you, no matter what. You'll always have me." She cried, and I reached out with my other arm to hug her, letting her cry on my chest.

For the last two days, I'd done nothing but train my muscles into fatigue, spend time with my son, and avoid Marco. Trying my best for our paths not to cross. And when they unfortunately did, I did what I did best – ignore him like a plague.

I'd gotten better over the months with my sparring, but I never actually got to practice it on a person. The only thing I had for that was the fucking punching bag in Marco's gym. He warned all his men to not fucking touch me, and that's why nobody ever wanted or trained with me. They all avoided me like I was some glass doll and would shatter if they as much as looked my way.

I was getting sick of this punching bag. Sick of the shooting range and not being allowed to try the knives or other weapons and machinery.

"I need to have a word with you." I glared at Marco while he stared at me with excited eyes.

"What about?" He leaned back in his seat.

"I need to be able to train with the men. Shoot at things other than some boards in a damn range." I snapped.

Marco sighed. "I've been meaning to speak to you concerning that."

"Look, I know you're mad at me for pulling a stunt like that and dragging your son into this, even after you made it clear you don't want him having any part in this life. And I know you probably don't want to see me at the moment."

His expression saddened, but he continued nonetheless.

"That is why I have made arrangements for you to move to Italy for the time being and round up your training with my cousin. He owns the Italian mafia, and he's willing to help. That way, I'll be out of your hair and space."

I glared at him. "What now? You're done trying to control my life, so you're shipping me off to some white, stuck-up asshole to pick up where you left? Great!"

"When do I leave?" I grit.

"Tomorrow." Marco sighed.

"Alright." I spun on my feet, ready to walk out.

"Princess." He called.

I stopped, glare unwavering. "Here, this is your commission from the last transaction. You did good." He slid a cheque toward me.

My eyes twitched in annoyance when I saw the figure on it.

"That's over eighty percent of the profit made. We agreed on forty. What games are you playing at?" I snarled.

"You'll need it for your kid. Especially if I'm to stay out of his life completely." Marco responded.

"Speaking of," I walked backward to him, leaning in face-to-face range. "I need you to get your goons off their trail. If I find out that you've still got eyes on him and my Nana, I swear I'll kill you."

"You've got to keep to your word." I added.

A smile stretched across his lips. "I fucking love to see this side of you, Princess."

I rolled my eyes and walked out of there with the cheque in my hand.