Kisa had already taken a large sum of cash from both her home and office safes. She needed to come up with a plan to make money, thinking that since she’d used her money to pay off Butta’s tab with his connect, Juan, in return Juan would front her some cocaine.

Kisa tapped her cigarette against a beautiful black glass ashtray, blew smoke from her nose, and said to Eisani, “I’ma pull some cash together just to buy some from him.”

“Kane, he not gonna sell to us either. Juan said you need to chill for a minute, let some of this shit die down. He said you got too much heat on you.”

“Who Juan think he is now, Dr. Drug-Dealing Phil? I don’t need advice from him. I need work from him. Matter of fact, fuck him. I still got other people I can reach out to.” Kisa put her cigarette out. “Have you heard anything on Nichelle yet?”

“Yeah,” Eisani replied. “Her dumb ass still right here in New York. She bought a house out on L.I. and copped a new BMW drop. Not only that, she clubbing every night in the city, balling out of control, buying the bar out.”

“Nichelle is more of a foolish bitch than I thought. Can you find out where the house is?”

Eisani smiled, “I already know.”

“Good, when Mish get here tonight, we gon’ get at Nichelle ass and get that paper back. Once we do that, I’ll be able to make some real moves.”

Later that evening Kisa with Arnessa and Eisani picked Mish up from LaGuardia Airport. From there they headed straight to Long Island in search of Nichelle’s home. On the way they devised a plan for getting inside the house. It was a simple plan, but with Mish as an unfamiliar face, they were sure that it would work.

They quickly found Nichelle’s two-story home, thanks to the truck’s navigation system. Mish approached the house alone and pressed the doorbell. Moments later, Nichelle answered the door, wearing a pair of sweats and a T-shirt, “Yes, can I help you?” she asked Mish.

“I’m already lost, and now my car has conked out on me up the street. Plus the battery is dead on my cell. I just need to use a phone to see if I can get my auntie to pick me up.”

Fooled by Mish’s exaggerated southern accent and plain clothes, Nichelle offered, “Come on in, you can use my phone.”

Little did Nichelle know she had just welcomed a coldblooded murderess inside of her house. Standing five feet eight inches tall, with a slim frame, copper-colored skin, and natural blond hair, Mish was the definition of an exotic beauty. It was her magnificent looks that helped her in succeeding as a professional hit woman. The majority of her victims were betrayed by her beauty.