Page 10 of Malachai
Running forever wasn’t going to work.
And truth be told…
I didn’t even want to run forever.
I had just planned to give myself a few more years.
I was still hurt.
I knew Sasha was dead.
Maya, who I still kept in contact with, told me that bitch had gone missing after Malachai found out she was responsible for our child being dead.
I wanted to be the one to kill her.
I looked around my one-bedroom penthouse.
I’d only been living there for almost two years.
Before that, I spent a year in DC living off pawn money. My wedding ring and Maybach had been sold before I left Florida.
I ended up in New York dancing because the train ticket was cheap, and Diamond said I could make real money the night I met her in a diner.
Seven thousand dollars in one Friday night.
I got hooked.
I felt a small twist of sadness.
I had a few friends now.
It had been nice being a ghost.
But shit had come full circle.
There was only one man who could handle the Russian Mob.
One man who dealt in the kind of darkness that made the Bratva look like choir boys.
My crazy-ass husband.
I picked up my phone. Stared at the blank screen.
My thumb hovered over the keypad. I watched it shake like it belonged to someone else.
I typed the first three digits of his number, the area code 727.
Deleted them. Maybe I’d just surprise him.
I left my apartment at six-fifteen.
A duffle bag from the back of my closet filled with a change of clothes. The money that was under a loose floorboard in the bedroom.. My Jordans.
I stopped in the bathroom. I cut my long blond hair into a bob. Applied heavy makeup.
Grabbed my toothbrush. Toothpaste. Then I was out. But before I left New York, I had a score to settle.
Chapter 4
