Page 2 of Trading In A Broken Heart

“Nigga, my arm in a sling because of you.”

His brows snapped together. “I’on know what you’re talking about.”

Pow!

I shot his ass right in the thigh, dropping him to the floor. “Please don’t insult my fucking intelligence.” I stepped over him as he held his leg.

“You shot me. You fucking shot me.”

“Damn right, I did, and I’m about to do that shit again.” My hand tightened around the handle of the gun. “You tried to kill my mufucking brother. You shot at my family. You could’ve killed my damn daddy.” My body rocked as I glared down at him. Sorry piece of shit. Pathetic excuse for a man. “For what? Because you couldn’t keep your dick in your pants? All this shit on you. You said ’til death, right?”

“Solei, no.”

I aimed my barrel at his forehead and released a single bullet. My body stumbled ’til my legs hit the bed, and I eased down on it. Grabbing my phone, I shot Grim a text.

Me: 911. Millionaire Suites room 913.

My body sat there in that exact spot for I didn’t know how long. I snapped from my thoughts when I heard a knock at the door. Getting up, I stepped over Zayden’s body and made my way to the door. When I pulled it open, I saw Grim standing there with his locs falling onto his face. He brushed them back, and I fell straight into his embrace. “It was Zayden. It was all Zayden,” was the only thing I could muster.

The Present

I poked my head out of the jet, and the rays from the sun scorched my face. Alabama was hot, but it had nothing on this Las Vegas heat.

“Las Vegas!” my best friend, Imani, yelled from behind me. I turned around, and she stood there with her champagne glass in her hand, along with her bride sash. She’d been drinking since she stepped foot on the jet. The only thing she should’ve been focusing on right now was getting to her room and lying down.

After getting engaged over two years ago, they were finally about to go through with the wedding. I tried to talk her out of this nonsense. They’d become too toxic for each other. They were fighting like cats and dogs every time I turned around. She was always crying. The police kept getting called. In my opinion, they didn’t need to tie themselves to each other, but she wasn’t listening to me. If she wanted to go through with the wedding and find out the hard way, I was gon’ stand beside my girl, but she better not say a thing if shit got too out of control and I stepped in. One thing I didn’t play about was my friends and my family. Anybody could get it behind them.

“Are you gon’ get off the plane or just stand there in the way?” Imani questioned me with a raised brow.

“Mani, that hotel isn’t going anywhere. You’re just ready to party.”

“Damn right! Ain’t that right, girls!”

The other six girls squealed as soon as she asked that. I had a feeling that this weekend trip was going to be a long one.

I exited the jet, and the truck was already parked, waiting for us. Stepping to it, I tapped on the passenger-door window, because the driver didn’t even get out to open the fucking door.

“Hey!” I yelled, knowing that I was ready to make it to my room so that I could lie down for a bit before it was time to go out with the girls. Every minute counted.

Another jet, all black, pulled into the hangar, prepared to come to a stop. Our driver got out of the truck, rounded to my side, and opened the back door just as the jet came to a halt. I went to climb inside, but he stopped me with his arm.

“What the fuck are you doing? Do you not see that I’m ready to go? Don’t piss me off.”

The jet door opened, and a guy stepped out with shades on his face. He was dressed in all black, and I just knew he was gon’ pass out in this heat.

“Mr. Corvo,” the driver said when he approached us. Though I couldn’t see his eyes behind those shades, I could feel them peeling back every layer of my skin.

“You,” was the only thing that escaped my lips as I folded my arms. He was the reason why my family hated me. I was still trying my best to get back comfortable around them, but the way they exiled me, it just didn’t feel the same.

Well, I wouldn’t exactly say it was his fault. They just thought that I was working with him to take my brother Wicked down. I’d never understand how they would think that was true. I loved my family too much to place them in harm’s way. I didn’t care what anyone said. I was a Saint-Mercier, and I didn’t take that lightly.

Savion Corvo was one of the most hated people by my family. I think they hated him so much because after they took over what was rightfully his, he went into the shadows without a fight. Honestly, I didn’t even think he wanted to be in the spotlight. This man was so silent that a lot of people thought he was dead. If you didn’t run into him in the flesh, you would think so too. I could say one thing, though: He was damn good at what he did.

Savion removed his glasses and stared at me with his ice-cold eyes. “What the fuck do you want?”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re standing over here by my truck. What the fuck do you want?” he repeated.