Slowly and cautiously, my left hand drifted back and closed around the gun tucked into my waistband, the weight of it familiar, almost intimate. Not a single day had ever passed where I allowed myself to be without it. It was like my own child, something I fed with vigilance and fear. In the kind of life I live, where danger breathes closer to you than life itself, you learn quickly that survival must be carried everywhere, pressed against your skin.
Davis studied me for a few seconds, his gaze lingering as though he were searching for something unspoken, before his eyes dropped back to the letter in his hands. I began to draw the gun out slowly, inch by inch, my eyes and my entire mind locked on him, poised for the smallest shift, the faintest betrayal of movement that could shatter my fragile calm. But instead, to my disbelief, he laughed. Not a gentle laugh, not a relieved one - something strange, sudden, and deeply unsettling.
"Can you believe this?" he said, holding the paper up as if it were holy scripture. "They accepted our proposal! Baby, we are in."
Accepted our proposal? , We are in? The words made no sense. What was this man talking about? I wondered, still suspended in confusion, when he rushed toward me and wrapped me in a tight embrace.
"Now we can put all our past behind us," he said breathlessly, "and officially begin a new chapter, one where we don't have to live in chaos, no more living on edge every second."
He pulled back just enough to look at my face, confusion and alertness written all over it, his hands still firm around my waist. I forced a smile, thin and fragile, and he took it as permission, raining kisses over me while I stood there frozen, my thoughts lagging behind my body. My grip on the gun loosened, fingers slowly surrendering as I let it slip back into place.
"Here, hold this," he said brightly, pressing the letter into my hand. "Let me change my clothes first, then we can properly celebrate." And with that, he hurried toward the bedroom, leaving me rooted where I stood, stunned beyond words.
Once he was gone, I lifted the letter and read it. Then I closed my eyes and exhaled slowly, as if releasing a breath I had been holding for years.
Even though Davis and I had waited an entire month for this letter, and it had finally arrived bearing good news, my mind was far too crowded to celebrate the way my husband did. Relief came, yes, but joy couldn't find its way in. There were too many thoughts pressing in, too many shadows standing between me and joy. Above all, I was grateful it was not the letter I had written.
I wasted no time. I tossed it onto the table and moved straight toward the picture frame on the wall. But before I could reach it, my phone started ringing. That's when Apollo flashed back into my mind. I'd completely forgotten about him. I answered without thinking twice.
"Apollo, listen, I need you to stop everything you…" I started the second I picked up, my hand already sliding behind the picture frame.
I was cut off by my mother's voice, a sound that made me pull the phone away from my ear and stare at the screen, startled. It was my mother calling, not Apollo. I had been too distracted to even check.
"Babra are you okay?"my mother asked, her voice gentle, confused by the strange words she had just heard.
"Oh, sorry, Mama. I got mixed up," I said, my attention drifting back to the space behind the frame, still searching for the letter that was tightening its grip on my thoughts.
"It's fine. I just called to tell you I'm ready and waiting for you here."
Mmhh‼ My heartbeat kicked up instantly. My hand froze. The space behind the frame was empty.
"The fuck?"
The words slipped out before I even realized I was still on the phone.
"What?" my mother asked.
"Oh! Sorry, Mama. What was it you wanted?" I said, my fingers digging behind the frame like a mad person, panic sharpening every movement.
"Barbra, are you okay?" she asked, her voice now thick with concern.
"Yes, I'm fine," I lied, badly. I could hear it in my own voice. "Listen, Mama, I'll call you back," I added quickly and hung up before she could ask anything else. I tossed the phone onto the couch and grabbed the picture frame with both hands, flipping it over.
Nothing.
The letter was gone. And that was exactly where I had put it.
Panic detonated in my chest. Sweat prickled across my forehead as my mind spun, grasping at explanations that refused to make sense. I stood there clutching the frame like it might confess if I squeezed hard enough.
Then my phone rang again.
I jolted, hurriedly rehanging the frame, my hands shaking as I rushed to answer.
Good. It was Apollo.
"Listen, cancel everything," I whispered, my voice tight, my eyes sweeping the room to make sure my husband wasn't within earshot.
"I think you're too late, Babra," Apollo said. His voice was flat. Heavy. I could picture him standing there, files in hand, staring at the house engulfed in flames. "And things didn't go well. Someone got in the way, and I had to do what I had to do."
My body went weak, like my bones had suddenly lost their purpose. I was about to ask what happened, who had interfered, when footsteps sounded behind me.
My husband appeared, already changed, looking relaxed. Whole. Alive.
I hung up instantly and forced my face into something neutral, something convincing. His phone rang. He smiled at me before answering, completely unaware of the chaos screaming inside my chest, the truth circling closer with every breath.
My eyes kept sweeping the room in frantic loops. Maybe the letter had fallen. Maybe it had slipped somewhere stupid and obvious and I was just too panicked to see it. Or maybe my husband had already found it and was simply enjoying this little psychological torture before striking. Or worse, maybe one of the house staff had taken it. But…
Before I could finish tearing myself apart with questions, Davis returned. He'd stepped aside to take the call, but the man who walked back toward me was not the Davis from a few minutes ago. This was Davis in *danger mode*. A wounded animal. A beast you don't test unless you're ready to bleed.
"Someone is trying to play me," he said calmly, and that calm was the most terrifying part. His eyes burned, sharp and furious. "And whoever it is, they've succeeded. Someone is trying to expose us."
In that instant, I knew exactly what he meant.
The consequences of my impulses were unfolding right in front of me. Everything was unraveling faster than I could stop it, faster than I could think.
That phone call had flipped a switch inside him. It had dragged back the side of Davis we were supposed to be leaving behind. The violent, calculating side. And I was the one who had pulled the trigger. Me. His perfect, beautiful wife.
I swallowed hard, my throat dry as I met those burning eyes.
One thing was clear though. He hadn't found my letter. Because if he had, this scene would look very different. I wouldn't be standing here breathing.
And that's when the real question slammed in
to me, cold and unforgiving.
Where the fuck is the letter?