The only thing that kept me from losing it completely was Jasmine knowing wasn’t with this shit at all.
This fucking dickhead.
BOOM!
The explosion outside rocked the building. Crystal chandeliers rattled overhead, swaying dangerously as gasps filled the room.
BOOM!
The lights flickered, and the gasps turned to full-blown screams as glass shattered somewhere in the distance. The low rumble of motorcycles got louder.
Security and a handful of cops sprinted towards the exits, their radios crackling as they tried to assess the situation. Panic spread through the crowd—chairs scraped against the floor as people scrambled to their feet and rushed for the emergency exits.
I cracked my knuckles as an eerie sense of calm washed over me. Jelani sat back in his chair and checked his watch, completely unfazed.
On stage, Marcus gripped the podium, stuck as chaos erupted around him. His gaze darted across the room until it landed on me. A slow smile spread across my face as I raised my glass and tilted it slightly towards him in a mock toast. The expression on his face twisted between rage and fear before he stumbled back and pushed through the people who’d rushed the stage.
Fontaine’s voice came through the earpiece. “Fifteen minutes until the cavalry's here. Y'all need to move.”
Jelani drew the Glock from the holster under his jacket. He flicked off the safety and rolled his shoulders as he stood. “Let’s get your nurse back.”
Gunfire erupted before I could respond, setting off another wave of screams through the room.
I tapped my earpiece, crouching low, keeping my head on a swivel. “Nai, where you at?” I pulled my gun from its holster. Outside, the Reapers‘ motorcycles revved louder, and another explosion went off, shaking the floor beneath us.
“These Reaper niggas are out here with rocket launchers, bruh,” Fontaine said in disbelief over the earpiece. “What the fuck?”
“Yeah, I hear it,” I said, ducking behind a toppled table. The gala had turned into mayhem—the screams and glass breaking was deafening.
“I’m looking for your girl,” Nai said in a clipped tone. A grunt followed, then a gunshot cracked in the background.
A fresh round of gunshots went off, this time inside the ballroom. I peeked over the table and froze.
A man in a black Halloween mask with glowing red Xs over the eyes and matching red stitching across the mouth stood in the middle of the room. He looked like something out of a nightmare, waving an AK-47 over his head and firing rounds into the ceiling.
These Reaper niggas were unhinged.
Most of the crowd had cleared out by now, but a few stragglers huddled under tables, clutching each other and covering their mouths to stay quiet.
“They called the SWAT team,” Fontaine said. “They’re fifteen minutes out.”
“Fuck,” I muttered. We didn’t have enough manpower to handle a whole SWAT team.
“We good. SWAT ain’t shit,” CJ’s voice crackled confidently through the earpiece. “Get your girl, Money. We got you out here.”
I wasted no time, bolting from the ballroom into the main hall. Hudson Hall was a mess—glass littered the floor, and the smell of smoke was thick in the air.
I pulled out my phone and opened the tracker app installed on Jasmine’s burner. The blinking dot on the screen moved steadily toward the garage.
“They’re headed for the garage!” I barked, sprinting towards the stairwell. A man stepped in front of me with his gun drawn.
Pop.
He dropped before I could raise my weapon. I looked over my shoulder to see Jelani lowering his gun.
“Good looks,” I said, stepping over the body, continuing towards the stairs.
At the stairwell door, Nai was struggling with another of Marcus’s security guards. She kneed him in the balls and was reaching for the knife strapped to her thigh.
