I stood there for a minute. Watching his chest rise and fall. Counting seconds between breaths like I used to count seconds between kills.
Partof me wanted to feel satisfied. This man caused so much pain. Took Yusef. Threatened Zainab. Tried to mold my nephew into a weapon the same way he molded me.
But standing here watching him disappear into them pillows, all I felt was… grief.
He was the closest thing to a father I ever had.
And soon he’d be gone.
I turned and walked out.
The Virginia air hit my face, cool and clean, washing away that death smell. I was almost to the Bentayga when that feeling hit me—the one that tells you somebody watching.
I looked up to the second floor window and saw Farah.
She stood there staring down at me, arms crossed, face twisted into something I ain’t never seen on her before.
Hatred.
Pure, undiluted hatred.
This was the same woman who used to look at me like I hung the moon. Who sent me texts at 2 AM begging me to come over. Who showed up at family events in dresses that ain’t leavenothing to the imagination, trying to get my attention. Who told me she loved me while I had her tied to a chair in a warehouse.
That Farah was gone.
The woman in that window looked like she wanted to watch me burn. Her hair was swept to one side, hiding the hole where her ear used to be—the scar healed but the damage permanent. She’d lost weight. Face gaunt. Eyes hollow but sharp.
She wasn’t crazy Farah no more. She wasn’t obsessed Farah.
She was something worse.
I held her gaze for a second, waiting for something. A crack in the mask. A flash of that desperate need she used to have for me. Anything familiar.
Nothing.
Just that scowl. That cold, burning scowl that said everything between us had changed.
I climbed in the Bentayga and sat there, engine off, staring at the mansion.
Rashid ain’t do this.
I believed him. Hated that I believed him, but I did. The man had many sins, but lying to me wasn’t one of them. Not about shit that mattered. And working with cops? That would violate everything he ever stood for. Everything he taught me.
So if not Rashid, then who?
Look closer to home. Look at who benefits from her destruction. Who gains power when she falls.
His words echoed in my head as I started the engine and pulled off.
Somebody made that call. Somebody with access to information about Zainab’s past. Somebody who knew about Zahara’s murder, the identity theft, everything she buried years ago.
Somebody who wanted her gone.
I thought about Vivica. How she was standing in the back of the bakery when the cops came. That smirk on her face. Like she knew exactly what was about to happen.
Would she really go that far again? That bitch knew who I was now? Would she risk me going off on her. I would destroy that bitch.
Then I thought about Farah. That scowl. The way she looked at me like I was already dead and she was just waiting for my body to catch up.
