Zurianne never imagined that saving her mother's life would cost her own freedom. Forced into an arranged marriage with Christopher Whyte the infamous Jamaican Don feared by many,she braces herself for a life of cold stares and ruthless commands. Bu...
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The morning was quiet, but my spirit was not.
I had barely slept, caught between the weight of betrayal and the fire of rising resolve. The twins lay beside me, their breathing soft and even, untouched by the chaos of the world around them. I watched them for a long moment, then sat up. My eyes were dry. My heart was cold. I had made up my mind — no more waiting. No more sitting in the shadows. If Chris was gone, then I was the one who had to rise.
I got dressed like I was going to war. Black suit, gold accents, hair pulled back in a slick, commanding style. I didn't want to look beautiful. I wanted to look untouchable. Powerful. Calculated. The woman who once hid behind Chris was gone. I was stepping forward now — for him, for our children, and for everything that belonged to us.
Aunty Suzan pulled up right on time. When I opened the door, she had on a burgundy trench dress, sunglasses blocking her eyes, but I could feel the heat in her silence. She didn't ask questions. She knew why I called.
" uh ready fi walk di way and put fi vampire in place ?" she said, one eyebrow raised.
"Mi ready fi reclaim what's rightfully fi ours."
We didn't talk much on the drive. Kingston moved around us in its usual chaos — horns, voices, buses weaving through gaps they had no business fitting into. But inside the car, it was silent. Focused. Like we were holding our breath before striking.
Whites Enterprises stood tall in the morning light, its glass facade gleaming like the smug face of a man who thought he couldn't lose. The lobby was colder than I remembered. The air smelled of wood polish and expensive lies. A young receptionist looked up from her desk and blinked fast when she saw us walking toward her.
"Mrs. Whyte and... Miss Whyte ?" she said hesitantly. "Mr. Whyte isn't taking appointments today."
Suzan laughed under her breath. "Him really brainwash unu up yah eeh ?"
I took a slow step closer to the desk, but before I could speak, a voice echoed from the mezzanine above.
"Let them come up."
Ricardo stood looking down on us, hands in his pockets, face as blank as always. Then he turned and disappeared into the elevator, like he already knew this would happen.
The elevator ride was quiet, except for the faint hum of the building's bones. I stared at my reflection in the mirrored walls, barely recognizing the woman staring back. She looked dangerous. Determined.
When we stepped into Ricardo's office, it was clear he wasn't expecting an emotional breakdown — he was expecting war. He gestured toward the chairs across from his desk, but I didn't sit. Neither did Suzan.
He leaned back, cool as ever, sipping coffee like he had all the time in the world.
"Mek mi mek dis clear, we Neva come fi nuh meet and greet and small talk," I said, eyes locked on him. "Mi come fi ask yuh straight — how yuh sleep at night knowing seh yuh betray Christopher ?"
