“Nigga, I know you didn’t hang up on me ’cause I’m questioning you. I can question you whenever the fuck I feel like it. You must’ve forgot, but let me remind you right now, I’m all you got. Therefore, when I ask you, fuckin’ answer. You probably was fucking her—that’s why you was acting so defensive of her at the hospital that night.”

Kisa inhaled to catch her breath. “Since you wanna handle me like some little bitch you fuck with, I’ma do everything I have to do to get you home, ’cause you’re the father of my children … but when you do return, don’t expect me to be here for you anymore.”

Chapter 15

A conservatively dressed Kisa stepped out of the back of a chauffeured Lincoln Town Car in a navy Prada skirt suit and wool trench. “I’ll be ready in half an hour,” she told the driver, who held the door as she exited the vehicle. Kisa walked up the stone and brick stairs to one of the largest private residential buildings in Manhattan. It took up more than half the block.

Moments after pressing the bell, the butler opened the door. “Good morning, Mrs. Montega. The lady of the house is expecting you. This way.” He motioned with his white-gloved hand.

“Thank you.” Kisa stepped onto the marble floor of the huge foyer. The inside of the home was decorated beautifully, with million-dollar paintings and antique furniture. Everything in the house epitomized old, long money.

The butler led Kisa into a study, where the walls were lined with first-edition leather-bound books. Kisa handed the butler her coat and took a seat on a beige floral couch.

“Would you like a drink?”

“No, thank you.” Kisa smiled.

“Lady Alexandria will be in shortly.”

Seconds later, Alexandria, an average-height Caucasian with striking beauty and a mean figure entered the room, followed by one of her six maids. “Kisa, darling, it’s been too long,” she said in her fake British accent.

Kisa stood up, thinking, She need to cut it already.

Alexandria kissed Kisa on each cheek, then hugged her. She stepped back and gave Kisa’s suit a once-over. “Prada, very nice. I have two myself.”

“It’s always a pleasure to see you too, Alexandria.”

The pair had once rolled hard together. They’d met years earlier, when Kisa transported coke for Sincere and Alexandria worked for a Colombian drug lord whom Sincere would sometimes cop from. Alexandria went on to marry that drug lord, who was later killed by a rival.

After her husband’s death, Alexandria took over his cocaine empire. She amassed hundreds of millions of dollars yearly, all the while pretending to be a young rich British socialite. She shared diplomat status with her parents, which came with certain privileges—the greatest being immunity from US laws.