Falling For A Brazilian Bad Boy(61)

By: Mz. Jae


The final squad car pulled out from the long driveway and he pulled in. He'd been close enough to see Sergio's ass walk out behind the stretcher. When he realized that she'd gotten shot, he wanted to kill the muthafuckas that had done it. Then it occurred, his own men had to have fired the bullet that took her down.

Antron snuck around to the back of the house, smashing the French door to unlock. He knew the place was empty. Inhaling the fragrances, he could almost sense Ayana's lingering essence. He hustled through the house; envious of the plush lifestyle the Brazilian fucker was living. Entering the largest bedroom on the second level, Ayana's trademark scents were all over it. He walked into the first closet and was blown away. It was damn near double the size of her condo's closet. Being inside of there, he felt her presence. Although he'd taken back her place, she'd only come back to claim her closet and personal items. The furniture and appliances were still there. Yet everything in this closet seemed to have tags, with the exception of a tiny section of likely worn items. Part of him believed she deserved this life, except, it was a life meant for him and her.

And so, Antron left out of the closet. He ran his fingers over the bloodied sheet that was still tossed on the bed. There was a chair on the far end of the room; he positioned it to face the door. One way or another, that Brazilian fucker was bound to come back home. Tron would wait it out, even if it meant getting taken out in the process. He loaded up his gun, placing it on his lap with his finger on the trigger.



To Be Continued...

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