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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Blood soaked through the front of my shirt, sticky and warm, every breath a sharp reminder of the glass that had cut into my side. I pressed a hand to the wound, but pain wasn't what slowed me down, it was the truth I couldn't ignore anymore.
My gang members had always been the biggest snake in my life. And tonight, they proved it. They delivered Zuri and my sons into the hands of the Colombians. My own kin.
There was only one place left to turn.
I swallowed the pride that had carried me for years, the pride that kept me from ever crossing that line and drove straight into enemy territory: my mother's side.
It had been years since I'd set foot near their mansion. My mother and her brother hadn't spoken properly in decades, and she never told me why. Some wound buried deep in the past, a cut that split two dynasties apart. But none of that mattered now. Not when my family was in chains.
The car rolled up to the massive iron gates, and the sight alone made my own compound feel like child's play. Floodlights swept over me. Guard towers. Armed men stationed at every corner, their rifles trained on my vehicle the moment I slowed down.
The gates groaned open with a weight that echoed in my chest. And there he was.
My uncle. My mother's eldest brother. The Don of their family.
He stood in the center of the driveway like a man carved out of stone, the kind of presence that didn't need words to demand respect. Armed men flanked him, some in front, others in the shadows behind. His eyes cut straight through me, sharp and knowing, before his lips curved into a soft smirk.
"Christopher," he said, his voice smooth, dangerous, almost mocking. "Look how di mighty Don finally decide fi darken mi gate."
I stepped out of the car slowly, blood still leaking from my side, but I kept my posture firm. Weakness was a luxury I couldn't afford, not even here.
"Mi nuh come here fi pleasantries, Uncle," I said, my voice low, steady. "Mi come fi war."
The smirk never left his face, but something in his eyes shifted. Interest. Amusement. Calculation.
Behind him, I saw the weight of his power it was a fortress stronger than mine, men more disciplined, security tighter than anything I'd ever seen. This was no small family. This was an empire.
And for the first time in a long time, I realized I wasn't the only king in Kingston.
*****************************
The heavy oak doors opened, and the mansion's air hit me it was cool, expensive, filled with the faint scent of cigars and leather. Marble floors stretched out like a king's court, the chandeliers above throwing golden light across the long hallway. Every corner had a man with a weapon, silent, watchful.
