Page 58 of Kissed By the Trillest Thug 2

The warmth in the room disappeared almost instantly. Malik stared at the screen for another second before bringing the phone back to his ear.

“Hold on.”

His eyes met mine.

“I’ll take this downstairs.”

“Okay,” I nodded.

He slipped the phone back against his ear as he headed toward the bedroom door.

“Go ahead,” he said into the phone.

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving the room quiet again. I stood there for another moment, my hand instinctively finding my stomach. It never mattered how many years passed. I could always tell the difference. There were phone calls meant for my husband, Malik Browne,

and then there were phone calls meant for Bleek. That call that he just took was definitely for Bleek. I looked down at the tiny bump beneath my shirt and smiled anyway. Whateverdrama he had on the other end of the phone was for him to handle. Right now, I was going to enjoy this moment with my baby.

BLEEK

I didn’t stop walking until I reached my office. After closing the door behind me, I leaned against it for a second before speaking.

“Talk.”

Sha didn’t waste time.

“I just got off the phone with one of my people.”

I walked over to my desk.

“What they got?”

“Word is the feds have been asking questions.”

My grip tightened around the phone.

“Questions about who?”

“The Ruiz Cartel.”

The room fell silent. I lowered myself onto the chair behind my desk.

“You sure?” I asked.

“I’m sure,” Sha said positively.

“Who they talking to?”

“I don’t have a name right now, but from what I was told, they ain’t targeting one person,” Sha paused, “They are casting a wide net. Anybody they think ever brushed shoulders with us, they are asking questions.”

I leaned back in my chair. I didn’t need this kind of stress right now. I have survived this game for decades without war and without a sentence. This wasn’t the kind of shit I needed coming my way. Especially not with a new baby on the way.

“That don’t mean nothing though.”

Sha was taking this shit lightly, and I, on the other hand, was not. I needed to know who they had that was talking, and I needed them dealt with.

“It does when they are asking the right questions,” I said in frustration as I rubbed my jaw. “What kind of questions are they asking?” I added.

“They trying to figure out who’s still connected. And who ain’t.”