ce

e photo was the VIP underground garage at Madison Square Garden, and the red A

right below

an is m

ius to know it was f

the screenshot to my best friend and

e. Speed up the a

r with my arms crossed, watching them pack millions of dollars worth of jewelry into armored ca

of lead. My work phone buzzed with an urgent notice from the Titans PR dep

the staff lot. Carrying my black umbrella as I walked toward the VIP section to ta

ndshield, Adrianna was straddling Keon's lap in t

anked the car door open. Wind and rain blew into th

c flashed across his face when he saw me, quickly replac

you stalki

was smirking as she wiped her smear

tle of this car is unde

l laugh and wrapped her

d acting like a beggar? Who ask

ose, his voice droppin

scene here. Save us bo

f my umbrella onto my trench coat

vorce, Keon. To

before letting out an

et game are you playing now? Stop

n button, pulled the door shut, and gunned the engine, the Aston Marti

d a drop of dirty water from my cheek, and pu

ment in Brooklyn or Long Islan

rned on the heater. Catching my reflection in the rearv

at night, Keon wasn't there, and my phone w

hredder, and fed every love letter, postcard, and di

educing my twenties into a pi

y the time I had packed everything and came out of the study

d. He wasn't home, so at le

alk-in closet and stuffed in every tight, revealing dr

uitcases. Just as I set the last box down by the front door, the electronic