Gemma
Zina answers, saying, “Hellooo!” in a singsong voice. It’s noisy on the other end, and I can hear a man’s voice in the background.
Ignoring that, I say loudly, “Zina, I’ll take the job.”
She cackles and says, “Excellent. You will not regret this. We’re back, bitch!”
I hang up with Zina and almost toss my phone aside. Then I think better of it. Before I put my phone down, I block Cassian’s
number.
Later that night, Zina gets home from partying. I’m still awake, mostly because I’m enraged over Cassian’s little visit.
I tell Zina about it as she pulls off the sky–high sparkling silver
heels she’s wearing–heels that almost make her as tall as me.
“Asshole,” she mutters as she rubs her feet. “I’m telling you, girl,
you’re better off getting rid of him, billionaire Alpha mafia boss or
no.”
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Chapter 9
She grins suddenly. “Besides, we’re about to make a fortune that will make his look like pennies. And it won’t be because our daddies are rich criminals with Illegal side hustles.
I snort and roll my eyes. “What we do is extremely illegal,” I say. “For the most part.”
Except for the few legitimate jobs we do take, like this job Zina
has, trying to figure out where the breach in security is for Adrian
Blackwell’s company, Nautilus.
“Yeah, but is it?” she says. “Are you really a criminal if the only
person you ever rob is another criminal? I don’t think so. We’re
more like…Robin Hood.”
I grin. “Yeah we are.”
Zina sighs and lets her foot slide to the floor. She points at the fridge. “Can you hand me a cheese stick? My feet are killing me.”
I open the fridge to grab her a snack when I’m smacked in the
nose by a mix of smells. None of them should be unpleasant. Zinal isn’t a neat freak, but she keeps her place clean.
But there’s something about the way they mix together that’s
suddenly the worst thing I’ve ever smelled. I slam the fridge closed, double over, and gag.
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Chapter 9
Whoa, hey, barf in the trash!” Zina shouts.
Despite her feet, she jumps up and she grabs the bin.
Thold up a hand, barely managing to breathe, “Do not bring that
near me.”
She sets it down and gets me a glass of water instead as I slowly
recover.
“Damn,” she says. “What brought that on?”
I shake my head and take a sip of the water. “I don’t know. Maybe stress?” I say. “My stomach has been so wonky ever since I decided on this divorce. I know it’s the right thing, but-”
“Gemma,” Zina snaps, cutting me off loudly. “Hold on. Are you pregnant?”
My throat seizes up around the second sip of water I just took, and I start to choke. I gasp in air and say, “What? Impossible! I took the
pill that night!”
Though I can’t help the images that flood my mind of a child that is Cassian’s and mine. A gorgeous little girl with dark red hair. She
would be so loved…
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