Page 56 of A Don & His Doll

“So just like that, you done wit’ a nigga as soon as shit get thick?” Monroe snatched his hand out of hers, and stepped back.

Promise felt her heart crack as she stepped forward.

"Don't do that," her voice barely rose above a whisper. “Don’t misinterpret my decision. It’s not that I’m leaving, and don’t want anything else to do with you,” Promise clarified. “I’m considering you. I’m considering your daughter. And yes… I’m considering myself too. But, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Do I look like I’m confused about who I want, or where I wanna to be?” Monroe shot back. “The fuck I look like tryna dredge up an old flame when all I need is right in front of me?”

“Monroe, you say that now, but you haven’t thought this all the way through. Look at the way you’ve moved since finding out about all of this. I should have been the first person to know about this, not ‘cause I’m your woman, but because I’m your oasis,” Promise challenged.

“You right,” Monroe conceded, calming himself down.

“It’s not about being right, that’s subjective. For me it’s about being sure. I’ve already chosen you,” she reminded him. “If you choose me once the fog clears, you know exactly where I’ll be. But, for now… we need to take a break.”

It was the most selfless thing Promise had ever done, but it was also the hardest decision she’d ever have to make. She wanted to be selfish like most women would, but the truth was, she couldn’t handle the aftermath of all this shit blowing up in her face in the long run. Monroe didn't see it the same way, but Promise had to protect her heart, and she trusted that if with her is where Monroe truly wanted to be, then there was nothing that would prohibit them from being together.

The decision Promise made had split Monroe in half. He was so overwhelmed, he couldn’t stand to look into Promise’s beautiful face any longer. From his side of the scope, he was reaching for her, but she was pulling away from him. Monroe wasn’t the type of man to force anyone to be where they didn’t want to be. He shifted his gaze to the open window that overlooked the city's lights. He silently prayed for answers, searched the sky for answers, but was only met with silence. Monroe hadn’t seen this moment coming, and it burned him to his core to realize that Promise was right. He hadn’t taken the time to weigh his feelings, he just ruled them out because he was loyal to Promise.

The feel of Promise’s forehead against his back as she wrapped her arms around him from behind both warmed and made his heart sink.

“You killin’ me, Doll,” Monroe whispered, covering her hands with his.

“Just give me your word. Tell me that once you get to the bottom of all of this, you’ll find your way back home.”

Monroe turned to face Promise because more than he needed her to hear his words, he needed her to feel his words deep in the crevices of her soul, he needed his words to take root so they could spring up when she needed him the most.

He cupped her face gently with both hands. “I’m a real man, ma. I ain’t never gon’ leave my home. I’m just givin’ you time to realize that. You tryna protect yourself from me and I’m harmless. Just know whenever you ready to open your heart for me again, that’s all you gotta do is call, and a nigga gon’ come runnin’ every time.”He said, then pressed his lips to hers.

“I’ma hold you to that,” Promise said, stepping back.

Monroe blew out an exaggerated sigh, knowing that Promise’s mind was made up, and there was no need to try convincing her otherwise. Neither one of them moved. Neither one of them wanted to be the first to let go, but eventually Monroe released her face, slid both hands into his pockets, and lowered his head.

“I’m out, Doll. I’ma hit you up later on, a’ight,” Monroe said, his voice barely above a whisper as he headed towards the door without looking back.

Promise nodded, allowing silence to fill spaces her words should have, but she feared breaking down at the sight of his back as he walked out of her room and jogged down the stairs. Watching him walk away was harder than she'd imagined. She grabbed her phone when it vibrated.

Security Notification: Elevator doors closing.

Promise stared at the screen until the words blurred together. The finality of it all had her dizzy. Her heart was so overwhelmed it brought her to her knees, and she sobbed. She wrapped both arms around herself, rocking against the side of the bed as tears soaked the front of her shirt. For the first time in her life, she was emotionally unstable. She’d been a pillar for her mother, her sister, and her friends…but the ache she felt hit different now that she was the one going through heartbreak.

“God, please help me,” she prayed.

Sitting behind his in-home office desk, Mitch nodded his head to YFN Lucci's 7.62 while smoking a kush-filled blunt. He was a certified boss in his own right, and the truth was whether he was behind bars or in the land of the free, no one could take that away from him. He was running shit in prison, and had been running shit since he was released. Men respected him because he'd earned it. Since taking over as head of the family and the organization, Mitch had been quietly putting pieces together that never sat right with him concerning his father's death. Prison had robbed him of the opportunity to ask questions when they mattered, but it hadn't stopped him from finding answers once he got home. One of his most trusted connections had spent weeks digging beneath the surface, confirming what he already knew, but needed to be sure.

Looking up at the security cameras that surrounded his home, he noticed as Dom rang the doorbell. Mitch pulled his drawer out, pressed the button, then spoke.

"What's good, Dom?" Mitch's voice flowed clearly through the intercom at his front door.

"Not too much, Boss Man," he replied with a low chuckle.

"Come on in," Mitch invited, then pressed another button that disengaged the security locks on his front door.

Seconds later, Dom walked into his office holding a beige folder in his hand. "Brace yo’self for what's inside this envelope," Dom said, handing Mitch the envelope.

"I appreciate your service. Here's something for your time," Mitch said, handing him his payment for discreetly getting him the information he needed concerning his father's death.

"I got'chu. Hit my line if you need anything else," Dom said, tucking the money into his pocket without counting it, then turning to leave.

Lucci's voice floated softly through the speakers. Mitch smudged his blunt in the crystal ashtray before going over the discoveries that were just delivered. Mitch opened the folder and started reading the complete autopsy, and come to find out several things were somehow overlooked. The Toxicology identified the presence of an unprescribed cardiovascular medication in the decedent's bloodstream. The medication was not listed among his prescribed treatments and should not have been present based on his documented medical history. The findings are inconsistent with accidental administration. Mitch had reread this same paragraph four times, before sitting back in his chair. The independent pathologist stood behind his findings, the samples were tested twice, and both laboratories reached the same conclusion.