Page 102 of His to Have
My jaw clenched.
“Corey stole… then used the bracelet you gave me for my eighteenth birthday to track my location. He had been working with them the entire time. They were his family," she scoffed. "And Isabella made sure the bracelet got to me on our wedding day.” Her voice cracked. “It’s why she was so smug. I was so stupid.”
“Nah. This is on me.”
Isabella had been a loose end that I should have tied a while ago, but I respected her father too much to deal with her properly. I’d always known her end game was power and not me — per se. While I knew Isabella could love me. She didn’t. That’s not what any of this was about. This was about power and how much she could gain in order to give orders in certain places. She wanted to be the HBIC. And when she knew she couldn’t get that from her father. She thought she could achieve that status through me. But I’d never given her the opportunity to be anything but a warm and wet mouth to me.
But Corey’s bitch-ass being involved and related to Orlando was a problem I hadn’t anticipated. But a complication I welcomed rectifying.
I’d always known I didn’t like Corey. And it had nothing to do with the fact that Yanna spent a year in a relationship with him. The entire situation had me regretting not offing that nigga the minute he stepped to her.
“This is not on you. All of this... is on me. But we’re gonna handle it.” I kissed her temple. “You good to follow me?” I asked knowing that letting her out my sight wasn’t an option. For either of us.
“Mm-hmm,” she hummed, glancing toward the room she’d run from.
I could see the hesitation in her eyes, but also something else.
“Isabella’s dead,” she murmured quietly. “And Corey... I left him bleeding out in there.”
I nodded, not surprised. My wife wasn’t some scary woman, she was a fighter. This vulnerability I was witnessing was only because it was me. Had one of my men found her before I did, she would’ve been hard as steel. This I was sure.
“Good,” I said simply.
Keeping one arm around her waist, I led her back toward the room. She stayed close, pressed against my side, but shedidn’t hesitate. When we reached the doorway, I could smell the metallic scent of blood. The room was a mess.
Isabella’s body was sprawled on the concrete floor, her neck bent unnaturally. There was blood pooled around her face and splattered across the floor. Corey’s bitch ass was slumped against the far wall, his breathing shallow.
I let go of Ayanna and walked over to him, pulling my gun from its holster, turned to her and asked, “How you want me to handle this Amore?” I pressed my pistol directly on the bullet wound on his chest, making him scream out in agony. “I personally think quick would be too easy. But it’s your call.”
The pain had to be excruciating. It was clear he was already dying. When he coughed blood coated his lips, and his breathing was almost nonexistent.
Ayanna took a deep breath, her eyes flickering between Corey and me. “Make it slow.”
And I smirked. “That’s my girl.”
Before he could respond, I pressed the barrel deeper into the wound, watching him writhe in agony. “You’re lucky I don’t have time to enjoy it,” I muttered, my voice cold. Cause if I truly had time, I’d teach you a lesson about touching what’s mine. Those hands—” I aimed my pistol at his right hand. “Would be gone.”
I pulled the trigger, and he screamed as the bullet tore through his two middle fingers.
“But, I guess I gotta settle for this.” I shrugged as I put several more bullets in his left hand.
He squirmed for a few more minutes, the pain taking over his body.
“Amore. We need to get out of here. Got one more person to deal with.” I looked down at her, my phone buzzing against my hip.
“What?” I answered, keeping my gun trained on Corey, his pathetic ass still writhing on the floor.
“Boss, we found him. Had his ass cornered trying to get to his backup car. What you want us to do with him?”
I looked down at Corey, who was now gasping and bleeding more profusely. When I looked back at Ayanna, with her bruises, bloodied clothes, and swollen face, I determined he needed to pay... publicly. Orlando’s death wouldn’t happen privately.
I would send a message to everyone.
“Bring him alive,” I said into the phone. “Bag him. And make sure he stays conscious. I got plans for that nigga.”
“Copy that, boss.”
I hung up and turned to Ayanna. “They got Orlando. We need to move.” I gestured toward Corey, who was still clinging to life. “He suffered enough for you, or you want me to finish him now? ‘Cause we got bigger shit to handle.”
