Page 73 of Heavy Is The Crown

Krys was snatched from her moment when Musa’s head lifted, sensing a presence before Krys even heard the knock at the door. His golden eyes locked onto the direction of the entrance, ears twitching in silent recognition. Krys didn’t need to check the security cameras. She already knew who it was.

The heavy iron gates to her estate only opened for a select few, and Karma, silent, efficient, and lethal as ever, didn’t just show up unannounced.

Krys rose from her spot on the bed, adjusting the silk belt around her robe as she moved through the dimly lit hallway. By the time she reached the front door, Musa was already there, standing alert but calm, his presence a living fortress.

Krys pulled the door open. Karma stood on the porch, hands in the pockets of her black tactical jacket, expression unreadable.

No hair, no wasted motion. She was a blade, polished, sharp, and deadly. The moonlight cast long shadows across the cobblestone driveway behind her, illuminating the sleek black Audi RS7 she had arrived in.

Karma didn’t step inside immediately. Instead, her gaze flickered over Krys, taking her in. Assessing.

“You straight?” she asked, voice smooth, measured.

Krys exhaled, stepping aside. “Come in before Musa starts thinking you’re here for the wrong reasons.”

At the sound of his name, Musa let out a low, approving rumble, stepping closer to Karma with a familiarity he reserved for few. He nudged her leg, massive head bumping against her thigh in silent greeting.

Karma crouched down to scratch beneath his jaw. “Good to see you, too, big man.”

Musa huffed, his version of affection, before stalking back toward the sunken living room, his massive form moving like a shadow with weight.

Krys crossed her arms, watching Karma as she peeled off her jacket and draped it over the back of one of the leather armchairs.

“You hungry?”

Karma shook her head. “Just handled something.”

Krys narrowed her eyes slightly, catching the shift in her tone. “Handled?”

A slight tilt of Karma’s head, eyes steady. “It’s done.”

That was all she needed to hear.

Krys studied her for another second, then nodded, moving toward the kitchen. Karma followed, her silent footsteps blending into the dark wood flooring.

Once inside, Krys grabbed the bottle of cabernet from earlier, pouring herself another glass. She needed something to take the edge off.

Karma leaned against the counter, watching her. Always watching.

Krys took a slow sip, then exhaled. “I got a problem.”

Karma arched a brow. “A new one? Or the kind I need to make disappear?”

Krys smirked despite herself, shaking her head. “Not that kind of problem.”

Karma didn’t blink. Didn’t shift. Just waited.

Krys hesitated, then sighed. “It’s Kenyatta.”

Karma’s head tilted slightly, the closest thing to surprise she ever showed.

Krys tapped her nails against the glass. “I don’t know what it is about him, but…” She exhaled sharply. “I feel myself getting pulled in. And I don’t do that. I don’t let people in.”

Karma’s gaze was steady. “You sure this ain’t just some convenient arrangement that got outta hand?”

Krys shook her head. “It ain’t that simple. I’m not supposed to want to know more about him. But I do. I’m not supposed to care what’s on his mind when he goes quiet. But I do.”

Karma didn’t speak right away. Just absorbed. Calculated.

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