’ She smiled what I could only guess was a smile intended to give comfort. I was breathing long and slow, to try to get my emotions in check and in ...opes of not allowing tears to fall down my face. ‘Whose son, and what am I intended for?’ I asked two because I wasn’t sure how long this honest exchange would last. ‘The son of crime boss Alphonse Stewart, the one responsible for all the drug sales and production in this city. And you are intended to be his bride.’ I hadn’t guessed any of it. He quickly took shelter in the tree house and relaxed, watching the plump raindrops hitting the leaves around him. Idly looking around his eye was caught by a flutter of movement in a neighbouring garden. A woman was engaged, as he had been, in collecting abandoned toys but she had not sought shelter from the rain. Instead she opened her arms and tilted her head back, as if trying to catch every drop. She was swaying to some internal rhythm, undulating her hips and twining her arms above her. More

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