A bunch of Atlanta shit
A lil Chicago shit
Some hoodrat shit
A lil drug shit
A little bit of love in this bitch , but most importantly a good ass read.
Kiyari "Kash" a badass female who don't go for bullshit encounters Nahzir "Draco" someone who a...
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𝐙𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐒 𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐑 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 "𝐙𝐀𝐊" 𝟐7
Zionis splashed the cold tap water onto his face, the icy sting jolting him from the remnants of another near-sleepless night. His dark, tired eyes studied his reflection in the mirror, the man staring back unrecognizable from the boy who had once lived so freely. His built arms, covered in tattoos that chronicled his pain and his power, flexed involuntarily as he ran a hand over his neatly kept stitch braids. The scar down the middle of his chest—the one left by the bullet that should've killed him at Draco's basketball game—seemed to glare back at him, a grim reminder of why he'd disappeared, why he'd let the world think he was dead.
The distant sound of soft breathing snapped him out of his thoughts. Zionis turned his head slightly, catching the reflection of the woman sprawled across the black silk sheets of his penthouse bed. He didn't even remember her name—nor did he care to. She was just a fleeting distraction, a means to fill the void on nights when the weight of his choices became unbearable.
Without sparing her a second glance, he stepped out of the bathroom, his presence alone enough to rouse her. "Get up," he said coldly, his deep, gravelly voice slicing through the silence. She stirred, blinking groggily at him.
"Wait, what time is it?" she mumbled, reaching for the sheets to cover herself.
"Time for you to leave," Clothes. Door. Now." Zionis replied bluntly, already pulling on a black t-shirt that clung to his muscular frame. He didn't bother to soften his tone. He didn't have time for pleasantries or attachments.
She blinked at him, clearly thrown off by his tone. "Seriously?"
"Do I look like I'm joking?" he shot back, his sharp gaze briefly meeting hers before he turned away, dismissing her entirely.
The woman hesitated but eventually gathered her things, throwing him a lingering, confused look. Zionis didn't meet her eyes. He waited until he heard the click of the door shutting behind her before letting out a slow, controlled breath. Peace. For now.
He moved to the sleek glass desk in the corner of the room, the skyline of the city sprawling behind him through the massive windows. Zionis powered on his tablet, his dark eyes narrowing as he pulled up the live feeds from the devices he had carefully planted to monitor Draco and Kayo. Every move, every interaction, every potential threat—they were all laid bare before him in real time.
It wasn't obsession; it was necessity. Ensuring their safety was the only thing that kept him grounded, kept the monster inside him from completely taking over. He leaned back in the leather chair, his jaw tightening as he scrolled through the footage. Draco , Kayo , and Mazari all living their lives yet unaware of the harsh sacrifice Zionis had to make in order for them to do so.
"They'll never know," Zionis muttered to himself, his voice laced with equal parts regret and resolve. His siblings were thriving, and that's all that mattered. But the price for their peace had been his own.
