Page 107 of Manic

Rio's eyes light up. "That's the kicker. We're talking serious cash here. The Patriot's looking at doubling, maybe even tripling his take."

I nod, encouraging him to continue.

Meanwhile, my mind races.

If this is true, it could be the break we've been waiting for.

A chance to hit the Patriot where it hurts most—his wallet.

"When and where is this meet going down?" I ask, keeping my tone casual.

"Two days from now, midnight at the docks," Rio replies without hesitation.

I pull out my phone, typing out a quick message to my father.

As I hit send, a sense of anticipation courses through me.

We're going to fuck up the Patriot's plans, and we're going to do it fast.

"You did good, Rio," I say, clapping him on the shoulder. "But remember, you're walking a thin line here. One misstep and it's not just your ass on the line."

Rio nods solemnly. "I know. Trust me, I know exactly what I'm risking."

I speak up, warning him. “Call your girl and tell her to head over to the clubhouse. We’re gettin’ a room ready for her and your little one. Start packin’ some of your shit, man, and do it fast. Once we pop up in a couple of days, he’s gonna know someone flipped on him.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Meghan

The mall bustles with energy as I trail behind Tindra, Dasha, Starla, and Flora.

The girls are chattering excitedly about outfits and school supplies, their voices blending with the ambient noise of shoppers and piped-in music.

I can't help but smile at their enthusiasm, especially Tindra's.

My daughter's eyes are bright with excitement for her first day of school tomorrow.

As we pause outside a trendy clothing store, I catch Flora's gaze.

She's hovering at the edge of the group, her body language still a bit hesitant.

I decide to make an effort to include her.

She’s the new girl on the block, but we’re going to make sure she feels welcome.

I nod toward the window display. "See anything you like, Flora?"

She startles slightly, as if surprised to be addressed directly. "Oh, um, yeah. That top is pretty cute," she says, pointing to a deep blue blouse.

I smile encouragingly. "Why don't you try it on? My treat."

Flora's eyes widen. "Oh, no, I couldn't?—"

"I insist," I say, gently steering her towards the store entrance. "Consider it a welcome gift."

As we browse the racks, I keep an eye on Flora.

Runes' words echo in my mind—how this shopping trip is meant to ease Flora into club life.

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