𝒚𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂 𝒍𝒊𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒆 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒎? 𝒚𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂 𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒅𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒂? 𝒚𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒚? 𝒚𝒖𝒉 𝒏𝒐 𝒇𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒅.

NOT A LOVE STORY!

Shakira & Zidane 🤞🏽🇯🇲 "Mi seh come inna di car," he repeated, his tone sharp and commanding. I stopped in my tracks, frozen by the tension. I could feel Austin's gaze burning into the side of my face. Mi weak out "W-we're... I stammered, suddenly flustered, "We're going to get food." "Mi will buy food fi yuh, go inna the car" he told me again. Kmt mi cyah bother enuh Maybe

Love built them. Danger surrounds them. Three years after choosing each other, Naiari and Zayvion are still holding it down and parenting a daughter who fights harder than most grown folks. But peace doesn't last long in their world. Old enemies resurface, new threats slip in unnoticed, and the past has a way of showing up uninvited. As the lines between loyalty and survival blur, Naiari starts to question how much more she's willing to sacrifice for love... and whether love alone is enough.

She was trained to uphold the law. He was born to break it. Naiari never wanted to walk the same path as her father, the Deputy Commissioner of Police, but becoming an officer gave her purpose. Zayvion never asked to lead March Pen's most feared organization. But with his brother locked away, the weight of the empire falls on his shoulders. Cold, calculated, and unchallenged, until Naiari crashes into his world, unafraid and unbroken. She wants justice. He wants revenge. But neither expected the fire that would spark between them. In a city where loyalty is a currency and betrayal runs deep, love is the most dangerous weapon of all.

A love story between the east queen and her bad man "You wid find out when mi cum in deh and yuh no ready," he said. Bwoii go suck yuh gyal dem "Yuh damn right. We will see," I said before walking away. "Like how it a shake like when yuh a perform pan stage," "A come yuh fih come kiss it and stop sta-" "Bomboclat," I said when he grabbed my arm and pulled me back. My back was pressed against his front. He wrapped his hand around my throat and brought his mouth down to my ear. "Pussy ole kiss wah?" His voice sent shivers down my back. Mi a bad gyal but him bad tuh "A joke keem," I said quickly and he released me. He came in-front of me and looked down. "Mi wid swell yuh belly and give yuh two pitney fih ramp wid, no ramp wid me," he said "Go swell yuh gyal dem belly nd move," "Yuh go gwan till mih bust yuh mouth before you go back farrin eno," he said as I stared up at him. Not a real story! If you don't speak patios don't waste your time #1 Jamaican #1 artiste #1 Jadakingdom

"Comm check... Testing, one... two... Kwes Boaz speaking. ...you a hear me? Ah. You ever wake up and feel like something's...missing? That's my life. Seven years after. Now I'm back, but nothing's the way I left it. Not even me. Amnija happened right after. Or at least, I think she did. She slipped through the walls I built around my mind-how she even do that? Bagga ray she gwaan wid. Afi' give har, ar' props. She a live her life now still, but all I'm trying to do is find my way in it. Yaan'dastan? Yuh feel she can make some space fi mi doh? Yuh feel e' g have a chance? Jah... We're about to take off. Buckle up. Guess we're about to find out." Ranking🥇 #1 in St. James #1 in matrimony #1 in young author #1 in youngwriter #1 in youngwriterspize

The exciting journey of Dwayne and Chanize, the perfect working-class "inner city" girl who fell in love with a Jamaican Don. But is the heart of a Jamaican Don capable of loving? (IT FULLA MISTAKE... SOON EDIT IT!!) This is a fictional story with fictional characters, I am justing living in my own lil head, so police... Don't come haul n pull me fi ntg weh me write. I don't own copyright to the audio and images used. #1 Callcenter #1 Jamaica #1 Gangster #2 Jamaican #1 Caribbean # 1 Exotic

The Hairstylist and the Don "I want you to come one hour earlier than we agreed," his cilent said "Why?" he asked "You know why," she said and he looked at the phone. He made a face and looked away. Den a wah she show him "I already told you I'm saving myself for marriage," he said A wah pop Wah him just say

"Move from in front a mi," I say. But it comes out softer. Weaker. More honest than I intended. I'd be on the first plane out of here tomorrow. Nothing that we've said in the past twenty minutes would matter once I am on that plane. We are tied to each other, and our pasts don't have to intertwine any more than they already have. He doesn't move. I step sideways. He mirrors me, like he's tethered to the same gravity. "Kymani-" "Selah" My name in his mouth feels like a dare. A part of me wants it to feel like a promise. I shake the thought. After what feels like a standoff written in the marrow between us, he finally exhales and steps back. Barely. But enough. I don't waste it. I slip from his hold, my heartbeat pounding in my throat, in my ears, in the soles of my feet as I bolt toward the door. I leave him there. Leave the house. Leave the heat still burning between us. And I run. Fast, desperate, the same way I did the first time I left this place. The same way I survived. I don't look back. Not at him. Not at the house. Not at the version of myself that's still trembling inside those walls. Not anymore.