I was letting everyone down. Putting them on hold because Vivica had me by the balls.
The anger that had been simmering all morning started to burn hotter.
Hour six.
Still nothing.
Dante hadn’t shown. The hotel lobby stayed empty except for guests checking in and out, tourists taking selfies, valets parking cars.
I’d been sitting here since seven this morning. Back aching. Bladder full. Stomach growling because I’d skipped breakfast.
But I couldn’t leave. Not even for five minutes. Not when Dante could walk out any second with whoever he was fucking on the side.
My phone buzzed again. And it was my boy Dreux, who worked in computer forensics.
Tech:Update on Dante’s financials. This nigga’s finances are LAYERED. Shell companies, offshore accounts, money moving through the Caymans. He’s hiding a lot.
Me:How much we talking?
Tech:Millions. Maybe tens of millions. And he’s been moving it recently. Like in the past week. Like he knows someone’s digging.
I read the message twice. Let it sink in.
Dante was covering his tracks. Which meant either he suspected Vivica was coming for him, or someone had tipped him off.
Either way, it meant this surveillance was critical. If I missed him today, if he went underground after this, I’d have nothing.
And Vivica would follow through on her threats.
Rashid would go back to prison and I couldn’t let that happen. The man who’d saved my life would lose his freedom because I couldn’t deliver photos of my stepfather cheating. The anger burned hotter. Deeper.
Hour eight.
I was getting even more agitated. I needed to check on Zahara and Yusef. I knew she was still feeling anxiety about the whole Larry situation, but it was handled. His body would never be recovered. His body no longer existed.
Hour ten.
Finally.
The hotel doors opened and Dante walked out.
But he wasn’t alone.
A woman was with him. Light-skinned. Beautiful. Early thirties. Professional-looking in a pencil skirt and blouse. Perhaps she worked with him at the liquor company?
But it was the way she touched him that told me everything.
Familiar. Intimate. Possessive.
She laughed at something he said, her hand lingering on his chest. Then she leaned up and kissed him. Not a friendly peck. A real kiss. The kind you gave someone you were fucking.
Dante’s hand slid to her waist, pulling her closer. His wedding ring catching the light as he touched another woman the way he was supposed to touch Vivica.
I raised my camera.
Click. Click. Click.
Got it all. The kiss. The touching. Both of them getting into his black Mercedes. And I made sure to get the license plate.
