The letter arrived two days ago. At first, Dre thought it was a joke. Ain't no way.

But the handwriting... it was hers. Even after all this time, he knew every curve of her script, every sharp edge of her rushed lettering.

The note was simple. No extra words, no emotion—just a place, a time, and a few sentences that sent a wicked smirk curling onto his lips:

"I shouldn't be reaching out, but I need to see you. One last time. I'll explain everything."

That was it. No 'please,' no 'I miss you'—but that didn't matter.

She had folded.

He knew she would. Knew she couldn't stay away. He had been watching her long enough to see it—how she carried herself like she had really moved on, like she was safe now. That shit made him laugh.

She could move into a penthouse. She could lay up with some new weak-ass nigga. She could pretend she ain't lose sleep thinking about him.

But the truth? Sariyah belonged to him. And now she knew it too.

⸻

Dre sat in his black truck, engine humming low beneath him. He let his fingers drum against the leather steering wheel, his tongue clicking against his teeth as he watched the clock on the dashboard.

10:53 PM. Seven minutes.

The spot she picked was quiet—an empty parking lot near some abandoned warehouses on the south side. It was a good choice, he'd admit. Out of sight. No cameras. No witnesses.

That meant she wanted privacy.

Good.

Dre adjusted his seat, checking his reflection in the rearview mirror. He looked good—calm, collected.

He wondered how she'd react when she saw him again.

Would she cry? Try to explain herself? Or would she play it off, act like she wasn't desperate to be back where she belonged?

Didn't matter. She was coming back regardless.

⸻

10:57 PM.

His foot tapped against the floor mat.

Sariyah was always late. Always made him wait—like she wanted him to get impatient, wanted to see what he'd do if she kept playing.

Dre smirked, leaning back.

She was testing him.

That's all this was.

⸻

11:03 PM.

His smirk started to fade.

His fingers flexed on the wheel.

Where the fuck was she?

He reached for his phone, scrolling through old messages that no longer had a reply option.

She really blocked him?

Dre exhaled sharply, nostrils flaring. She was bold for that. Too bold.

But it's alright. He'd let it slide.

For now.

⸻

11:09 PM.

Dre's jaw was clenched so tight he could feel the pressure behind his ears. His fingers hovered near his gun, his breath steady but his instincts screaming.

Something ain't right.

His whole body was tense now, his gaze locked onto the dark alley between the warehouses. The lot was too quiet. The air felt thick.

He wasn't stupid—he knew a setup when he saw one.

A slow exhale left his nostrils as he reached beneath his seat, gripping the cold steel of his pistol. If someone was dumb enough to think they could run up on him, he'd show them real quick why that was the worst mistake of their life.

He just needed to move smart. Get out of the truck, see what the fuck was going on.

Just as his fingers wrapped around the grip of his gun, the driver's side door swung open.

Fast. Too fast.

Before Dre could react, an arm wrapped around his throat, yanking him backward.

The pistol slipped from his fingers, clattering against the pavement. He thrashed, his elbow jamming into solid muscle, but whoever had him was strong.

Fuck.

A second pair of hands grabbed his legs, dragging him out of the truck.

His back slammed against the pavement so hard his vision blurred for a second.

He swung wildly, connecting with somebody's jaw, but it didn't do shit.

Another hit. This time, aimed at him. A fist cracked against his ribs, knocking the wind out of him.

Before he could get a full breath, a heavy boot pressed into his chest, keeping him pinned.

Dre blinked up at the figures above him, his brain scrambling to catch up.

There were three of them.

Big, grimy-looking motherfuckers. Hoodies up, faces shadowed.

Not cops. Not professionals. Street niggas. Hired muscle. Dre's heart slammed against his ribs as realization hit. This wasn't random. This was a hit.

And there was only one person who wanted him gone this bad. As if his thoughts had summoned him, Kaelix stepped into the light.

Dre's vision sharpened. The streetlamp behind Kaelix threw his face into sharp angles—his jaw tight, his expression blank.

But his eyes?

Cold.

Unforgiving.

Dre let out a sharp, breathless laugh, his teeth stained red from where he bit his cheek. "So you the weak ass nigga she fucking now?"

Kaelix didn't blink. He crouched down next to him, resting his forearms on his knees, his voice quiet. "You really thought you was gone get away with that shit?"

Dre grinned, even as blood dripped down his chin. "Which part? Fuckin' your girl first? Or comin' back for her?"

The pistol whip came fast.

Dre's head snapped to the side, a sharp ringing exploding in his ears.

Kaelix leaned in closer, his voice low, dangerous. "Watch your mouth."

Dre spit blood onto the pavement, his smirk returning. "She still ain't tell you everything, huh?"

Kaelix's expression didn't change, but Dre saw it—the slight flicker in his eyes. Doubt. Uncertainty.

Dre figured Sariyah had kept shit from him. Dre laughed.

"I knew she would," he taunted, voice hoarse. "That's what she do. She lie. She use niggas till she don't need 'em no more." His gaze flicked up, his grin widening. "And you? You just the next one in line."

The second pistol whip was harder.

Dre's vision blurred at the edges, but he kept laughing, even as his head lolled to the side.

Kaelix stood up, towering over him. "Y'all know what to do," he muttered to the men around him.

One of them grabbed Dre's arms, yanking him up. Another forced a cloth over his mouth, and Dre's world started going dark.

His muffled curses faded as his body went slack.

The last thing he saw before everything turned black—

Was Kaelix staring down at him.

Cold. Calculated.

Ready to end this for good.

__

@NYLAATIME What do yall think???

THOUGHTS ON THIS CHAPTER? Yall i literally had to go back and change the whole end of the story because I didn't like it anymore. Like I said beetlejuice has always been finished 😂