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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Gunshots cracked behind us like the sky was splitting open. I didn't stop to count how many. One was too many.
Zurianne's hand was tight in mine, but her feet were stumbling in those heels — mi nearly fling har over mi shoulder.
We burst out into the alleyway behind the club. The air was thick with heat, smoke, and the city's filth. Somewhere inside, the Don was screaming in Spanish — I knew that tone. Vengeance.
I yanked Zurianne closer, pressing her to the wall.
"Tek off dem shoes deh. Now."
She barely nodded before kicking them off, breath jagged. Blood was still splattered on her leg — his blood. That sight alone drove me insane, it made me want to go back inside and burn every man alive.
But time wasn't on our side.
I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed fast. "Rico. Back door. Now."
Seconds later, the back gate flew open and one of my Colombian runners, Rico, was waving us over. The black SUV was already running — I planned for this. I always plan ahead.
"Drive straight to the hotel. Don't stop for nothing."
Rico hit the gas so hard my head snapped back. Zuri clung to me in the back seat, still panting, still silent — her eyes wide but sharp.
"How much yuh pack?" I asked her.
She shook her head. "Barely nothing."
Good.
We screeched up to the hotel, tires squealing. I didn't wait for the doors to fully stop before I jumped out. Inside was dead quiet — too quiet.
Something was off.
I grabbed Zuri hand again and took the service elevator up. My other phone was already ringing — one of my spotters.
"Don, they coming. Fast ."
"Fuck."
We hit the suite. I yanked the suitcase from under the bed, throwing open the secret compartment — documents, cash, weapons. That's all I needed. Every other ting? Useless.
Zuri stood by the balcony, watching me, trembling but trying to stay solid.
"Check yuh bag. Make sure no phones, no devices — nothing dat can track we," I barked.
She obeyed fast.
Sirens echoed in the distance, but I knew that wasn't police — not for us. Not here.
I loaded the pistol, shoved two knives in my waist, and strapped the black bag tight.
I looked at her, eyes locking on hers. "From we step out dis door, nuh ask mi no question. Just follow me."
