𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐘 | 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐕𝐎𝐍

𝟎:𝟑𝟏

As she assembled the ingredients on the counter, she ran her fingers through her crimped thirty inch wig that was styled in a half up half down.

She had gotten her hair and lashes done the day before to somewhat make her feel better.

"Alexa, play my slow jams mix." She spoke while she unlocked her phone, pressing on the FaceTime icon that was under Nardo's contact name.

Her and Nardo had been talking on the phone every day since the day he sent her his number through Instagram. Which was exactly nineteen days ago.

They just had a friendly relationship, where Nardo would flirt with her here and there, but never anything too much. He was good company to her.

"My favorite girl den called my phone. I got ah reason ta' live now." He joked with a smile, his diamond grills glistening by the second.

Dakota shook her head with a small laugh, propping her phone up against the paper towel roll. "Since when was I your favorite?"

"Since I said so. You got a problem wit' dat, jit?" He questioned while reaching over and pointing a gun in the camera.

"Boy, ain't nobody scared of that lil ass gun. I'll pistol whip you with your own gun." She spoke while rinsing the potatoes off under warm water.

"This ain't no pistol, stupid. Issa draco, girl." He chuckled while putting the gun back in its previous spot.

"Oh, what's the difference?" She smirked, picking up her iPad from the kitchen counter and going to the voice recorder app, pressing record.

"A draco bigger and they need 7.62 bullets, and that bitch semi-automatic. A glock smaller and you can put ah drum and a beam onnat bitch. Look." He explained while showing her both of the guns side by side.

When he put them back, she stopped the recording, playing it back. "Yup. And you're going to jail. Yeah. Have a nice day in jail sir. Is that the typa guy you are?"

He laughed loudly, shaking his head in the process. "You fed as fuck, ima have ta' kill yo' ass."

"Ima bad bitch, you can't kill me!"

"Ian gon' kill you, girl. But you heard the difference doe'? I'm tryna have you out hea' knowin' yo shit, Koko." He said and she nodded.

"Yup, you said a draco is bigger than a glock, and the draco takes 7.62 bullets and you can put a beam on the glock. Ohhh, that's why you said '7.62's big as hell, ah knock a nigga lungs out'." She awed in realization.

He smirked at the camera, side eyeing her. "Mhm, I thought you said you ain't listen to my music. I thought you told me ta kill my producer 'cause the shit trash."

"Bye, you fucking remember everything. Get on my nerves." She laughed while lathering her potatoes in a little bit of oil, salt, and garlic powder, putting them in the oven afterwards.

"I gatta remember everything 'cause niggas be lyin' and shit. Watchu cookin' though?" He asked as she put broccoli in a pot with some butter.

"Loaded shrimp potatoes with broccoli. I been craving this for daysss." She dragged out as she began cleaning and de-shelling her shrimp.

"Givin' wifey fasho. I'm bouta have ta' snatch you up if dem niggas gone keep playin' witchu. Ian gon play witchu like that." He flirted and she rolled her eyes, being used to it by now.

"Always flirting with me, get the fuck onnn!" She chuckled, seasoning her shrimp.

"And you always playin'. Since we sayin' obvious shit."