4. Chapter 4
Queen Adanna
I sat at my desk for three hours straight, reading through every single document Chief Idris had pulled on our guard roster, line by line, detail by detail.
My phone hummed against the wood. Jade’s encrypted transfer hit my phone screen. I blinked, adjusting to the massive stack of leaked banking servers, flight logs, and offshore movement files. I scrolled through the raw data as my mind shifted into overdrive.
I sat back in my chair as my mind started clicking through the timeline.
Give a black woman two completely unrelated events, a shift in somebody’s energy, and ten minutes of silence, and we will cross-examine the universe, connect dots that nobody else even noticed were on the same map.
My brain started rewinding, connecting pieces that seemed completely isolated from one another.
I went all the way back to the night my custom chopper was mysteriously stolen straight out of the compound hangar. For her to even get through, that type of job required high-level security clearance and internal access. I noticed two distinctive guards who worked those shifts.
Then, I pulled up King Eze’s financial ledgers from the past two years on my monitor.
His numbers were completely out of the water. He was moving and blowing through money at a rate way past the other tribal kings, just reckless. It was worse than Nana at the casino back in 2019 after six martinis, totally out of control.
But the real red flag wasn't even the volume of cash being burnt; It was the pattern. A series of massive, recurring wire transfers sent into an offshore account registered under an untraceable shell company.
The tribal Elders had actually pressed him about those wires months ago, and Eze’s official response written on the tribal ledger was listed as "Business Affairs."
Business affairs?
Please.
Eze’s primary legitimate infrastructure didn't even touch those international sectors. The math wasn't mathing.
I zoomed in on the timestamps. The exact months those offshore spikes hit his account lined up almost identically with two major events: the night my chopper got yanked from the hangar, and the exact week Brooklyn mysteriously resurfaced on the island.
She didn't just walk back onto this island on her own merritt; King Eze financed her. He paid for her clearance, he bought off my guards to lift my chopper, and he personally funded the entire circus show she just pulled at the cemetery.
That’s why that old bastard was standing right beside her at the grave. That’s why he was looking at her like she was a prized asset instead of a threat to our Queendom.
Looking at the frequency of those transfers and how comfortable they were around each other, Brooklyn and King Eze were way closer than anyone on this island realized.
Knowing how that desperate, clout-chasing bitch moves, she was probably fucking that old man on the low just to keep the wire transfers coming.
And Eze? Oh honey, the man has so many kids scattered across the territories he probably can’t even name five of them.
My eyes narrowed as the timeline pushed even further back.
I wonder if they orchestrated the first time she fucked Dame—before me and him ever got together.
The memory hit me like a cold bolt of electricity.
I remembered a conversation I had with the Chairman.
He informed me Eze was the primary voice pushing for our arranged marriage to happen as quickly as possible, he told me that during the family commencement day, before he went home and died.
It was a passing comment, but with a deeper meaning.
Eze had even paid his financial dues as the groom’s father months earlier than the tribal law dictated our marital date.
Why would Eze rush a union that consolidated power into my hands?
Unless he knew he was dropping a ticking time bomb into my lap.
Unless he helped Brooklyn manufacture an illegitimate heir, tucked her away, and waited for the exact moment I lowered my guard to blow up my reign from the inside out.
Who’s to say they weren’t my Uncle dying.
I looked into his results and the doctor said he believed it was the sickness, but the results stated it was inconclusive.
Brooklyn probably paid off her own tribal guards with Eze’s offshore cash to slip into my compound the day my Uncle died and the night I was out hunting her. Then, she drugged Dame while he was resting in his own home, and fabricated the entire scene.
I slammed my notebook shut as I sat with my thoughts.
The play was clear as day now, and the math was checked. The motives were mapped, and King Eze was about to learn the hard way what happens when you fund a circus in my city.
My first instinct was to cut his money off at the knees, choke out his offshore accounts and bleed his liquidity dry until he couldn't even pay his own security detail.
But a man who moves that much dark capital doesn't work in a vacuum. Who’s to say he hadn't already greased the palms of the Tribal Elders?
If the old men sitting on the Council were taking a cut of that grease, coming at him through official channels was useless.
I walked down the quiet hallway toward the East Wing guest suite.
We were sleeping there since I lost my cool and put a few scratches through our main bedroom.
The door was cracked open. I stepped inside quietly as my eyes found my husband on the edge of the bed.
A quiet smirk pulled at the corner of my mouth. It was wild to me how peaceful he looked—so raw, so grounded, completely oblivious to the chaos currently turning the island upside down.
Looking down at his shoulders, a thick wave of attraction hit me. But right behind that heat came a prickling sting in the back of my throat. My eyes started to burn all over again.
Stop being a soft-ass bitch, I ordered myself, grinding my back teeth until my jaw aching. Suck those tears right back up.
I hadn't cried since I was a little girl—not since the day my mother looked me in my eyes, told me she was never coming back, and warned me to be good to our family before she walked out forever. I had buried my tears in the dirt that afternoon and locked the door.
Yet, when this man held me hostage in his arms in our wrecked bedroom, I didn't want him to let me go. He had a loaded barrel pointed straight at him, and he wasn't even thinking about his own survival; he was worried about my mind.
Oh, I thought. I guess I really am his property, too.
Every time we made love and he’d wrap his hands around my hips, burying himself deep inside me while growling that I was his and only his, I figured it was just talk in the heat of the moment. I thought it was just driven by sweat and lust. But he wasn't playing; he meant every word.
I was used to being the sole protector, the one carrying the weight for everyone else. But for a man to care that deeply for me, and to look past the blood on my hands, the ice in my chest, and the gun I held to his head, and still fight to protect my soul?
Yeah. I was going to protect this man with my life. I put that on my own soul.
I leaned over his frame and gently ran my fingers across his forehead, pushing a stray lock of hair back.
The second my skin made contact, his eyes snapped open. In a split-second, he popped straight up, whipping the gun around until the barrel was leveled at my nose.
Then he froze.
The moment he registered my eyes, his shoulders dropped. He let out a long, heavy breath and lowered the weapon. "Damn, baby... you almost got your head blown off."
I reached down, wrapped my palm around the steel of his gun, and pulled the barrel into my chest as I climbed onto his lap. I straddled his thigh, settling my hips against his, pinning the weapon between my ribs and his sternum.
"Do you know how handsome you are?" I murmured.
We locked eyes.
A raspy chuckle rumbled deep in his chest. He shook his head, taking his finger off the trigger and gently snatching the piece out of my grip. He tossed the gun onto the nightstand.
"I ain't playing no games with you," he mumbled. A lazy, crooked grin broke across his face as he wrapped his arm around my waist. "You out here almost putting a hole through my head, now you just trying to get up in my draws."
A quiet, genuine smirk pulled at my lips. "Maybe."
I leaned down and pressed my lips to his. He returned the kiss instantly. It was deep, warm, and slow. His hand slid up my back to cup the nape of my neck. He pulled me into him, deepening the taste until he slowly tilted his head back, pulling his neck down to break the seal.
I hovered over him, and my lips were still tingling.
"Does your father seem off to you?" I asked quietly. "Or did he say anything off to you since we got married?"
I watched his dark eyes shift. They moved from one side of my face to the next as his mind churned through memories. He was thinking. I stayed completely still, matching his stare, allowing him all the time he needed to think his thoughts through and say whatever was on his mind.
"He was saying..." Damini started, his voice was still gravelly from sleep. He paused, clearing his throat, his gaze drifting up toward the ceiling for a second before cutting back to mine. "He uhh... he said he wanted to take the kingdom from you and your family."
My eyes didn't blink. "Oh, he does?"
Damini gave a nod. "Yeah."
"Okay," I whispered, leaning my upper body down until my face was inches from his. "And how does he know Brooklyn?"
Damini squinted, his forehead furrowing as he tried to trace back through his father's inner circle. "I don’t even know. She was never around the primary estate like that."
He let out a low, bitter scoff, shaking his head against the pillow.
"Look... that man has always been off, Danni," Damini muttered. "Eze ain't never been much of a father to none of us. That’s why I loved going to the States so much—just to get the fuck away from him.”
“Really?”
He continued,“Yes. He’s just a toxic, greedy old man who wants everybody on this island to bow down to him, and no matter how much power he gets, enough is never enough."
He paused.
"That dude is no better than a bum sitting on the street corner—except he got money," Dame grunted as his palm smoothing down my lower back.
"Deadbeat as hell until it’s time to put on a suit, show up for the camera, and pretend like he built a family.
He didn't raise me, he didn't check for me, but the second it’s time to use my name or push some political play, he wants to act like Father of the Year.
I knew he was up to something snake-ish...
I just didn't think he’d use some desperate girl to try and pull it off. "
"Interesting," I murmured. I leaned down further. "You look so good right now, Dame."
His hand wrapped around the back of my neck to pull my lips down to his. He kissed me hard, and I returned it just as heavy, letting the heat run through my veins for a few fleeting seconds.
Before it could escalate, I broke the kiss, slid off his lap, and stood up beside the bed.
Damini sat up, rubbing his eyes. "Where you going? You coming to bed or what?"
"I probably won't be sleeping anytime soon," I confessed.
He blinked. "Huh? Why the hell not?"
"I don't sleep when I'm at war with an enemy," I replied.
Damini ran a heavy hand over his face, shaking his head as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. "Baby, it's four in the morning. You been running on adrenaline since the funeral. You need to lay your fine ass down for at least two hours before you go tearing up some more shit."
"My brain doesn't shut off, Dame," I said, leaning against the edge of the mattress. "If I sleep, I lose hours. If I lose hours, Eze and Brooklyn move another piece on my board."
Damini looked up at me. "And what about me? You just gonna leave me sitting up in this guest room watching college football reruns while you go play chess with a bunch of snakes?"
"I told you," I said, leaning closer until my face was inches from his. I reached out and touched his jawline. "You will stay close to me. But right now, I need you rested. Because when I drop the hammer, I need my King ready to have my back."
Dame smirked, grabbing my wrist and kissing the palm of my hand. "You crazy as hell, babygirl. But go do what you gotta do. Just know if I hear a gunshot go off without me, I'm shooting at everybody."
I completely froze.
The word hung in the air between us.
Babygirl.
He had never called me that before. I was used to Adanna, Danni, wife, or his crazy-ass woman, but babygirl?
A wave of warmth flooded my chest, melting through the ice. A soft, unfamiliar vulnerability rushed into my veins, making my breath hitch in my throat. That shit sounded so damn good coming from his lips.
Dame squinted up at me, his eyes tracking the sudden shift on my face. "What? What's that look for?"
"Nothing," I lied quickly, trying to pull my icy composure back over my face, but my voice came out way softer than I intended. "I was listening."
He scoffed softly, his eyes narrowing with a knowing smirk, but he didn't push it.
He better stop playing with me, I thought. He needed to stop before I give in and forget about my plan.
He pulled me down a little lower, his dark eyes scanning my face. "Come lay down with me then."
A quiet smirk tugged at the corner of my lips. "Okay... but we can't have sex right now."
Damini froze mid-breath. His brow furrowed as his eyes narrowed. "Now hold on a damn minute... that's where I draw the damn line."
I pressed my hand flat his chest. "It won't be for too long. I just can't sleep right now. My head is spinning."
Damini stared at me for a long beat, grunting as he shook his head in defeat. "Whatever, man. Okay, well... just let me rub on you until I go to sleep."
Before I could even answer, he yanked me against his side. My legs became tangled in his as he shifted, burying his face in between my chest.
He let out a heavy sigh against my skin as he tried to sink back into sleep.
I stayed completely still in the dim light of the guest room. I slowly raised my hand, running my fingers through his hair and caressing the side of his face, watching the hard, rugged lines of his jaw finally soften into rest.