No lines left to cross

The moment Cassandra and her little entourage were gone, India felt like she could breathe again—but that didn't mean she was letting her guard down.

She stood beside Chris in the VIP section, her eyes still fixed on the doors where Cassandra had just walked out. Stunna came up next to her, arms crossed.

"She's up to somethin'," Stunna muttered.

India scoffed. "No shit. But whatever it is, we're gonna find out before she gets the chance to play her hand."

Chris was quiet for a moment, sipping his drink like he was deep in thought. Finally, he turned to India, his voice low. "I don't want her name mentioned in here again. The second she steps foot in PPP, she's done."

India smirked, looking up at him. "Look at you, all protective. If I ain't know better, I'd say you care."

Chris tilted his head, stepping in just a little closer, his fingers grazing her wrist. "Maybe I do."

India's breath caught for half a second, but she masked it with a slow, taunting smile. "That so?"

Chris held her gaze for a long moment. Then, instead of answering, he reached up, brushing his knuckles down the side of her face, slow and deliberate.

"Go home," he murmured. "Get some rest. I'll handle the rest of the night."

India arched a brow. "Tired of me already?"

Chris chuckled. "Never."

Her stomach flipped, but she played it cool, giving him one last lingering look before finally turning away.

Back at the house, India wasted no time.

She grabbed her laptop and spread out across the couch, scrolling through the files she and Stunna had dug up on Cassandra. The deeper she went, the more it became crystal clear—Cassandra wasn't just back to fuck with Chris.

She was back to ruin him.

The money, the connections—everything led to one name: Dante Vasquez. Chris's biggest rival.

India exhaled sharply, clicking her nails against the laptop as she stared at the evidence in front of her. "Bitch, you really picked the wrong war."

Just as she was about to dig deeper, the front door opened.

Chris.

India didn't even look up, still clicking through files. "That was fast."

She felt him before she saw him—his presence filling the room like a storm cloud.

"What are you doing?" His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it.

India finally looked up, stretching out on the couch. "Just a little light reading."

Chris's eyes flicked to her screen, and in an instant, his whole demeanor shifted.

He walked over, snatching the laptop off her lap. "The fuck is this?"

India sat up, unfazed. "That, baby, is the truth. Your little ex-wife is in bed with your biggest enemy."

Chris's jaw clenched as he scanned the screen. He was pissed.

India leaned forward, her voice soft but sharp. "I told you she was up to something. Now what?"

Chris shut the laptop, exhaling through his nose. Then, without another word, he turned and walked out of the room.

India smirked. The bitch was sleeping with her ex-husbands rival...crazy

.......

The next morning, India woke up feeling peachy as hell.