Chapter 2
—AZANI
Three days had passed since I last saw Devyn.
All I could think about was the look on her face when she called me a liar.
She wouldn’t answer my calls or texts. I watched her cry on her balcony at three in the morning yesterday.
The way she broke down, rocking back and forth, fucked me up.
Her sobs hit me right in the chest, and I couldn’t look away.
I was all the way in Italy and couldn’t concentrate on shit. Vic kept sending me pictures and videos from brunch. Devyn was out there dancing like she wasn’t crying her eyes out the night before and letting niggas touch her. Watching that shit from across the world was driving me crazy.
I stood outside, phone clenched in my hand, watching a video of her bent over, clapping her ass in the dress she had on. High ass heels, hands wrapped around her ankles. I had to call Vic for this. He needed to get her the fuck outta there before I got that nigga killed.
His phone rang once, then he picked up.
“Get Devyn the fuck up outta there, man. Now. I can’t watch that shit. As a matter of fact, don’t send nothing else.”
“She gon’ curse me the fuck out.” He chuckled. “But I got her. I’ll hit you when she’s home safe.”
I just hung up. She couldn’t be over me that fuckin’ fast. My heart was beating out of my chest thinking about another nigga kissing her, touching her, being inside her.
That shit was killing me. The only reason I was here was for this Black Crow shit.
Giovanni Ricci had some information I needed.
I told him I would pull up on him yesterday, but I couldn’t.
After Devyn found out some of the truth and left Vivian’s, I went home.
My bed held me hostage until I forced myself up and got dressed to come here.
When I walked into Giovanni’s house, he was sitting at the table with his wife, Carmella, playing Scala.
I was always the spectator when they played.
Niggas played spades and Tunk. This was some different shit.
The house looked like a castle. Stonework, preserved original floors, solid from top to bottom. Whoever had their hands on it knew exactly what they were doing.
“Stone, we were just finishing up,” Gio said, waving me over.
I dropped in the chair beside him, tired as fuck. My phone buzzed in my pocket. Vic said Devyn was spazzing and told him to tell me to go to hell. She knew it was me who made her leave. If she didn’t want me to catch extra bodies, it was best she took her ass home.
“Nice seeing you again, Stone,” Carmella said, grabbing the money off the table and smirking at Gio.
“Nice seeing you, too,” I muttered.
“Mella, you only play this game because you know you’ll win,” Gio said, staring up at Carmella.
“And you always want to play no matter how much money you lose. Next time, we’re playing for something much bigger. Maybe a new jet.” She laughed, walking out of the room.
Gio just shook his head and turned toward me. He kept his eyes on me a second longer than he usually would.
“Are you alright?” he asked, lighting his cigar.
“Yeah, I’m good. Just ready to get back to the States. What’s this thing about Africa?”
“The list. My name is on it too. I’ve been trying to figure out what common enemy everyone on it has, and I think I found it. Does the name Shadow ring a bell to you?”
And it fuckin’ did. Shadow was presumed dead. His family held a funeral, and agents were sent to confirm it was really him in the casket. But that was before The High Table and Sector II were cleaned out and revamped.
“Yeah, but he’s supposed to be dead. You saying he’s alive?” I asked, rubbing my chin.
“Alive and well, apparently. He was spotted on a beach in Madagascar. By the time we got there, he was already gone. He’s living up to his name. Having Shadow roam free is a risk we can’t take.”
I shook my head and laughed once. “No shit. That’s why he was supposed to be dead three years ago. You got any additional intel? We gotta get the ball rolling before he regroups and builds a crew.”
“He seems to be moving around Africa, but he favors South Africa. You and I know just how unpredictable that terrain can be. He could be anywhere. In the jungle, in the mountains… Knowing him, he could be underground.”
“My family has ties to the Dlamini family in Eswatini. I’ll reach out to my sources, and we’ll reconvene in New York in two weeks. In the meantime, find out everything you can. I’ll bring this to Tallie and Slum to see how they want to proceed.”
“I’ll be there. No more business. Come and have dinner with my family.”
I just nodded and let him lead the way. The closer we got to the dining room, the louder it got. Kids’ voices and Carmella telling them to behave. The smell of food made me pick up the pace. I ain’t even realize how hungry I was until it hit me.
Once we stepped into the dining room, there were three kids. One little boy, maybe five years old, and twin girls, maybe eight or nine.
“We greet adults when they walk into a room,” Giovanni said, looking at all the children.
“Hi!” they said in unison, waving.
I waved back at them, then dropped into one of the chairs. The servants came out with more food and wine. As soon as the last dish came out, everybody got straight to eating. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I looked down at my plate.
You don’t need to miss another meal. Shit is sad.
Devyn had me out here down bad. Not eating, barely sleeping. No matter how long I lay in bed, I only got one or two hours at a time. Then my phone buzzed again.
Bratty baby: Come get your stuff by tomorrow, or it’s trash. Bring my things with you when you come.
I stared at the screen, hoping she would say one more thing, but it never came.
Me: Okay.
If she thought I was bringing her stuff, she lost her damn mind. She was trying to take every piece of herself away from me, and I couldn’t do it. I shoved my phone in my pocket. When dessert came out, I declined. I needed to get the fuck on.
I’d watched men lose their minds over women and told myself I’d never be that nigga. Now I was in Italy, tracking my girl’s location, rearranging my whole life to stalk her like the sad ass nigga I was.
“Gio, Carmella. Thanks for dinner. I have to get on this jet,” I said, wiping my mouth.
“See you soon, Stone. Amori, say goodbye,” she said, rustling the little boy's hair.
“Goodnight, Mr. Stone,” they all said.
“Let me walk you out,” Gio offered, wiping his mouth with his napkin.
He leaned over and whispered something in Carmella’s ear that made her smile. Then, he turned to me and led me out of the house.
When we got to the door, Gio turned toward me. “Dopo il cattivo tempo, viene il sereno (After the storm comes calm).”
“Lo spero davvero (I really hope so),” I replied.
He shook my hand and patted my arm.
I headed straight for the truck. When the driver closed the door, all I could think about was how cold Devyn’s text was.
She was pissed, and she had every right to be.
It didn’t make this shit hurt any less. The flight home would be long if sleep didn’t find me.
I just hoped that by the time I made it to her place, she’d be calm enough to at least talk to me.
I slept two hours out of the eight on this flight.
If it weren’t for morning traffic, I would’ve nodded off driving home.
My eyes burned as I pulled into the driveway and parked.
The skies were gray like rain was coming, and the wind whipped around my head the second I stepped out, making me pull my hood tighter over my ears.
When I pushed open the door, the first thing I saw was a pair of Devyn’s shoes. As I walked farther into the house, her Princesses & Pirouettes tote bag sat on the living room floor beside the chair. Her favorite throw blanket that she used when she was cold hung off the back of the couch.
Devyn’s essence was sprinkled all over my house. I climbed the steps slowly, remembering the first time I brought her here. The way we connected. How I asked God not to take her from me. From that day on, winning her heart was the only thing on my mind.
But when I pushed open my bedroom door, all I could smell was her.
Her hair products and lotions. But more than anything, her perfume.
It lingered over every inch of my room. One of her scarves was draped over the nightstand.
A full bottle of water that she asked for but never drank.
The necklace that I bought her for her birthday.
I dropped on the end of the bed and put my head in my hands, trying to erase the image of her crying her soul out on her balcony. Then the way that nigga looked at her while she danced on him at brunch. I wondered if she really hated me, if she missed me… if she’d ever let me touch her again.
She’s done with you, nigga. Get that shit outta your mind.
Accepting she was done meant I lost her, and I couldn’t do it. I stripped off my clothes and got into bed on the side she usually slept on. My eyes closed as soon as my head hit her pillow, inhaling her scent. My phone buzzed beside me. I groaned, opening the message.
Bratty baby: What time are you coming to get your things?
She was serious about this shit. I ain’t know what I would do or say once I got there, but I needed a minute. I had to get some sleep before I crashed.
Me: Around 6. Long flight.
My Devyn would never leave me on read, but this version didn’t give a fuck. I couldn’t control the outcome anymore. Whatever she was willing to give me, I had to take. Before I could roll over, my phone buzzed again.
G: Ibni. We need to talk. Call me, or I’ll come see you.
G would have to pull up this time. I wasn’t calling him back.
I had nothing to say. They forced my hand, and now Devyn’s heart was broken.
The one thing I didn’t want to do had come to pass.
I set my phone on the nightstand and closed my eyes, sinking into Dev’s pillow.
She was my last thought before I finally fell asleep.