CHAPTER 16
PRESENT
After spilling everything, the detective stared at me like I had three heads. I could almost see the gears in his mind grinding to a halt.
"What would you like your last meal to be?" he finally asked, flat and clinical, as if my story of blood, revenge, and survival had shattered his sense of reality.
I smiled, the kind of smile that hid everything and let nothing go. "Sweet spicy bacon burger and large fries. Plus a lemonade. And pork ribs—extra vinegar. That's all, please."
His annoyance was visible—my order was long, indulgent, defiant. But I didn't care. I was about to die by lethal injection. I had every damn right to savor my final meal.
They took me back to my cell. Another man informed me that my sisters had been notified of my transfer to Black Dolphin, that my helicopter would arrive the next day.
I slept like a baby that night, finally able to trust that my little dewdrop, my son, had people watching over him. I was ready. No regrets. No unfinished business. Nothing could touch me.
Morning came harsh and bright. I took a long, meticulous shower, washing away every trace of prison grime, sweat, and despair, scrubbing until my skin tingled and my muscles remembered what freedom felt like. I dressed slowly, savouring the sensation of clothing that didn't smell like iron bars and disinfectant.
Minutes after ten, I was called out. Six guards escorted me to the helicopter. My presence radiated danger; I was a walking threat. Only two pilots and one security guard—already, my instincts screamed something was wrong. No law enforcement would be that careless.
I stepped forward, and one guard smirked, "Happy deathday in advance."
I smiled back. Then I spat in his face. Every ounce of fury, contempt, and defiance I carried surged into that spit. They shoved me inside the helicopter to avoid further conflict. The rotors kicked up, the air screamed in my ears, and before I could process anything, darkness swallowed me.
Slowly, agonizingly, I woke. My head was pounding, a jagged, indescribable ache, as if someone had beaten my skull with a hammer. My eyes were covered. The air smelled thick with onions and garlic, pungent and almost nauseating. My heart raced, a mix of fear and confusion.
Who had taken me? What did they want? A trap? An execution? Why now? Every thought collided with the next, questions spinning in a vortex I couldn't escape.
Then a voice—familiar, almost teasing—cut through the chaos: "The heroine is awake."
My pulse spiked. Familiar… but where had I heard it? My blindfold was ripped away. Light, harsh and white, stabbed my eyes. I blinked and tried to focus.
And there they were.
Lupita, Indira, Kora, and Marissa. My sisters. My chaos incarnate. My family. Standing alive, laughing, smirking at the horror and awe written across my face.
I staggered forward, disbelief burning in every nerve. They had pulled off the impossible. Fooling the Russian police. Extracting me from Belmarsh. All of it.
We hugged. My chest pressed against theirs, and my tears, hot and desperate, finally spilled. The relief was so intense it made my knees weak, like my body couldn't process that I was actually alive, free, untethered.
Then, unexpectedly—Lupita slapped me.
"What…what was that for?" I gasped, clutching my cheek.
"Nothing. I just felt like it," she said, calm and terrifyingly casual.
We sat, and my chaotic heartbeat began to slow, just a fraction. Then I heard the familiar sound that made the cage of my heart crumble completely.
"Mama!"
Jordan. My son. My boy. He came running from downstairs, arms flailing, eyes wide with joy and disbelief. My chest clenched as his tiny body collided with mine, his warmth, his energy, his sheer existence hitting me harder than any gunshot, any cell door, any near-death I had endured.
"Where were you? I missed you! You should have been on the plane—it was fun!" he squealed.
Plane?
"Hi, sweetie, did you say plane?" My voice cracked. My pulse raced faster than ever.
"Yes! My first time. I was scared, but Aunt Indira told me I'm her hero," he said proudly.
My stomach dropped. We weren't in Atlanta. My brain scrambled, trying to process.
I knelt, kissed his forehead. "Jordan…go upstairs and play some games. Mama has something to talk about with your aunties." He nodded without argument and ran.
I turned to face the women who had just shattered the impossible. "Where the fuck are we?"
They laughed. Hard. All at once. My fury and confusion only deepened.
"Singapore, Brandi." Indira said, her tone deadly serious under the teasing lilt.
"You're wanted worldwide—UK, America, Red Notice. We couldn't risk separating you from your son. We couldn't let you die before your time."
"But…how…how will we survive here? We don't know anyone!" My voice shook, the remnants of fear and disbelief pouring out.
They shared a look. Marissa returned with a tablet, and I saw the numbers. Billions. Enough to buy life itself.
"I emptied my company's accounts," she said, almost casually, like it was nothing.
"Red Notice?" I whispered, horror and exhilaration twisting inside me.
"As if we'd leave you exposed," she replied, handing me a stack of passports and IDs.
I stared at mine: Gizelle Grace Bassett.
My mouth dropped. My new name. I hated the middle name instantly, but I didn't care about anything else.
They went around the room, introducing themselves under new identities—Romina, Candiace, Nella, Amari. Sisters reborn, gangsters of legend, living in a world that feared them.
Indira stepped closer. "We couldn't be sisters in our previous life… but in this one, we will be."
I let it sink in. Two billion dollars, global identities, a second chance at life. I had cheated fate. I had cheated death.
I took my first real shower in years. The water was hot, fierce, cleansing not just my skin but every ounce of despair, every memory of prison, every lingering fear. I smelled freedom. I felt it seep into my bones.
A hot meal was prepared. I ate, savoring each bite, each taste a rebellion against everything that had tried to break me. And finally, I climbed into bed with my son, holding him tight, letting the world outside fade.
For now. For this moment. I was alive, untouchable, and unbroken.