Arranged

Situation

We walk to the bathroom and we quietly enter, careful not to let anyone hear us. We listen in on the conversation that starts.

"Kendall? Why are you here?" Kyla asks, standing at the mirror, checking her makeup and washing her hands.

"Same as everyone here. I'm a part of this mafia too. You forgot?"

"No. I just don't care." Damnit. Kyla and that smart mouth *internally slaps forehead*. Kendall pushes the knife to her side and my eyes dart to the hand she's holding it with.

"Vixen loved me first, y'know." Kendall says. Kyla sighs and turns around.

"Kendall, it doesn't matter. He's moved on. He's happy now. You should try and do the same. I don't care, okay? We're not gonna talk about this because as I've mentioned sixty times already, I really don't care. Now if you'll excuse me, my husband and daughter are waiting." she says, walking by her.

In a fit of rage, Kendall swings the knife at Kyla, sending my mind into fight or flight mode. I pounce out and I kick Kendall in her stomach, making her stumble back and attempt another swing. The knife grazes me and it cuts my suit jacket open, tearing through it and my shirt, cutting me slightly. I grunt and I put my hand on the cut, blood seeping out of it. I pull my hand back to see my hand covered in my blood and when she swings again, I see an opening.

This might get my fingers cut off, but it's worth it. Angrily, I grab her wrist and I turn her around and I kick the back of her leg, bringing her to her knees, and I put the knife to her neck, turning her to face Kyla who's pointing a loaded gun at her skull.

It's just then that a wave of emotion hits me out of nowhere.

I remember that my parents are gone. I remember that Leo stalked my wife for months without me knowing and that I was oblivious about it all.

Breathing heavily, unknowingly on the verge of tears, I push the knife into her neck, making her squeal, blood starting to pour from the punctured spot. "Vixen, what are you doing?" King says, walking up to me.

"Stop him." I say to Kyla, looking down at Kendall.

She looks uncertainly at me and frowns a little.

"Vixen, you can't kill her-"

"¡Dije que lo detengas! {I said stop him!}" I yell at Kyla, making her hesistanly point her gun at King, making him put his hands up.

"Vixen, come on man. She's a part of the mafia. No matter how bad you want to, you can't kill her."

"I can if I want and you know it. Nobody has the power to stop me, and my mother isn't here to talk me out of it. I don't have to listen to anyone."

"Vixen, stop. You don't have to do this. You're still grieving and I understand how hard that can be. Besides, if her people come for you and they call the police and you end up arrested, then what? They'll charge you for smuggling drugs, illegal activities, murder, money laundering, the list goes on. Think about our baby's future. She needs you. She needs us."

"It'd be dumb to call the cops because they'll get looked into too. Besides, where were all these thoughts when you wanted to kill her?" I say, starting to slide the blade across her throat slowly.

"Goddamnit, that's not the point!" she says urgently, watching my actions. I look up into her eyes and I see fear in them and a thousand possible futures without me in either of them.

I start to think about what she's telling me and I grunt and I hesitantly throw the knife to the ground, pushing Kendall down with it.

"Lay another hand on my wife and I won't stop next time." I say, grabbing Kyla's hand as she tucks her gun underneath her garter.

We go to the ballroom and I get one of my good friends to keep the party going. I grab Aleah's stroller and me and Kyla exit the party, the boys and their girlfriends decide to stay at the party to monitor any more activity. When we get to the house, Aleah's looking around in the stroller as we walk up to the doors, scanning our hands to get in, and we shut the door behind us when we get inside, the AC turning on as soon as the door closes.

"Upstairs." Kyla says, pointing upstairs. I raise my eyebrows at her, shocked by the sudden burst of dominance. I shrug and I get Aleah out of her stroller, walking carefully upstairs. When I get upstairs, I sit on the bed and Kyla gets out of her dress, stepping out of it, leaving her corset and heels on. She gets out of her heels and unties her corset, letting it fall to the floor. Her body's just as beautiful as it was before she got pregnant and she never fails to remind me.

She slides a shirt and socks on with no bra, no panties, no nothing. She glides into the bathroom and washes her makeup off, then by the time she's done with her skincare routine, I've already put Aleah down. Kyla sits on my lap and sits alcohol, cotton balls and bandages down next to me, grabbing a cotton ball and drenching it with alcohol.

I put my hand on her ass to brace myself and when she starts to pat my shoulder with the alcohol soaked cotton ball, I grunt, squeezing it as I close my eyes. She grunts and winces at how hard I grab her and she looks into my eyes with warning and unnoticed want in her eyes. She distractedly continues to clean my cut and sighs when she's done cleaning it.

"You sure get cut a lot." she says, grabbing the bandage and starting to wrap my shoulder up. I look at how distracted she is as she wraps my shoulder, and I smirk at her.

"What's wrong, baby?" I ask her, teasingly. Her head shoots up and she looks into my eyes and I can hear her breath hitch in her throat. "Breathe, Kyla." I say, laughing at her nervousness.

"I am. I'm breathing." she says, all flustered.