Miamor’s eyes remained closed as Mecca took in the image of her. Seeing her this way was poetic for him, a beautiful demise for an ugly situation. The two of them could never co-exist. Her day of reckoning had come.

“My man here feels like you owe him something. Now, I have a proposition for you. I think you’ve learned your lesson. I’m not usually a forgiving man, but if you apologize to Fabian here and you admit that you can’t fuck with me, then I won’t kill you. I’ll let you go, as long as you leave Miami… my city,” Mecca whispered in her ear. He wasn’t a nice guy and didn’t even imitate one well. He knew that he would never let Miamor live, but he wanted to hear her apologize, and he wanted to hear her admit that that she was beneath him… that he held the power… that only he could determine whether she lived or died.

Miamor bit into her inner jaw because she had never hated anyone more than she hated Mecca Diamond, and there were so many emotions pulsing through her body that she could not stop the hot tears from falling down her face.

“See, the bitch does cry,” Mecca pointed out to Fabian, who stood baffled behind him. “Now, tell me I’m the best, bitch. Let me hear you say it.”

Miamor’s body shook with rage as Mecca waited impatiently for her response. Blood poured out of her mouth as she hung in the balance between life and death. She was barely strong enough to hold her head up. As she opened her mouth, she whispered, “Come closer so you can hear me.” Barely audible, she waited until Mecca leaned close to her ear. She didn’t want him to miss a single word of what she was about to say.

“Say it, bitch. Give up your pride to save your life,” Mecca proposed as she breathed in his ear.

“You’ll never be the best, Mecca, because I’m the best. You can kill me, but it’ll never change the fact that I took everybody you ever loved away from you. You made a mistake when you killed my sister. You take one from me, I take two from you, and the rest of my people are in the wind. They’re untouchable. I did that. I made sure of that. If you were the best, you would have done the same. Every day for the rest of your life, you’ll think of Miamor, nigga. I promise you,” she whispered.