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I F**k What’s Mine!

Carla exited Papayas strip club that night aggravated and a mess as well. The echoes of music and laughter fading behind her as walked. She pulled her jacket tighter around herself, aware of the late hour and the lonely streets. As she walked alone, heading towards her car she felt she was being followed. Suddenly, Markle emerged out of nowhere startling her. His hands were clamped over her mouth muffling any attempt of speech.

Markle leaned in, his voice a low whisper against her ear, "You failed the part of your deal. You haven't given me Lizzie." Carla, panicked, tapped her lap, signaling that she had crucial information.

Silently, Markle guided her to his car, ensuring they were unnoticed. Once inside, he closed the doors. Carla hesitated before speaking, “It’s a nearly impossible mission.” she admitted. “Mr. Hill loves the fucker.”

Markle countered with a glimmer of hope, "There's always a loophole." He shared insider information, "Mr. Hill's 15th-anniversary celebration for his
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