Chapter 1
For ten years, Lorenzo Stone and I were in a tumultuous relationship, full of love and conflict.
I was the fiercest fishmonger girl in the market, and he was the wildest guy around.
We fought back-to-back during brawls, our days were bitter, but there was always a hint of sweetness.
But on the day he became a big shot in the gang world by sheer ruthlessness, a sultry woman named Monica Blackwell, dressed in a long dress, appeared by his side.
He thought I would cry and scream, tearing Monica apart out of jealousy. Nervously, he sent dozens of his men to follow me day and night.
Instead, I burned everything he had left behind and severed all ties with him.
We became each other's taboo, never to be mentioned again.
Then one day, Monica suddenly decided she wanted to cook herself. Lorenzo accompanied her to buy groceries, and they came to my fish stall.
Flying fish scales splattered onto Monica's clothes, and Lorenzo, in a fit of anger, overturned my fish stall.
"Jazmine Winters, five years, and you're still just as petty. You belong right here in the gutter," he shouted.
He expected me, with my stubborn nature, to lunge at him and fight tooth and nail.
But instead, I just squatted down, picking up the wet bills one by one.
"The stall is 300. The digital scale you broke costs 10. You owe me 310 dollars," I said calmly.
Lorenzo scoffed and threw me a black card.
He sneered, "You're really scraping for chump change now, Jazmine? You've lost all your spine."
Lost my spine? Maybe I had.
After all, with late-stage cancer, I just wanted to die comfortably.
*****
It was Christmas Eve, and the whole place was buzzing with holiday cheer.
The old man selling veggies had already packed up and gone home for the holidays, leaving me alone in the cold, huddled in my coat.
My fish stall was my home, and every penny I made was my lifeline.
I carefully put away my bill, calculating in my mind how many days' worth of cancer medication I could still afford with the money I had.
Footsteps echoed, and a woman dressed way too lightly for the weather stopped in front of my stall, frowning and covering her mouth.
She scrunched up her nose. "Why are you the only one left selling fish in this whole market? And why does it reek so bad?"
I put on my best fake smile. "Gorgeous, these fish were pulled straight from the river this morning. Fresh as it gets."
She looked me up and down like I was something she scraped off her shoe, her face twisted in disgust.
"Your stall's as nasty as you are. Who'd be crazy enough to buy your fish?" She spat.
Her words stunned me, and that fake smile I'd been forcing just vanished.
"Do you even hear yourself?" I snapped back.
"Who are you to tell me how to talk? The customer's always right, haven't you heard that?" she snapped back.
She shot back without hesitation, her gaze cocky and defiant.
For a second, it was like looking in a mirror, seeing my old self staring right back at me.
I started to speak, but the fire I used to have just wasn't there anymore.
I shot back, "I'm the only one selling fish now. Buy it or don't, makes no difference to me."
"You, the fish girl, got some nerve talking to me like that," she yelled.
Her voice was so loud that people around couldn't help but look over.
Her friend from the veggie stall next door heard the noise and came over.
"Monica, what happened?" a man called out.
"It's this bitch. She actually had the nerve to talk back to me," the woman snapped.
As soon as she said that, her friend turned to look at me.
When our eyes met, I froze for a second.
It was Eddie Brooks, Lorenzo's right-hand man.
Eddie just called that woman Monica. Turns out, the woman standing in front of me was Monica, Lorenzo's new flame.
Eddie saw me, and his expression grew uneasy.
With Eddie there, Monica wouldn't let up. She got even more relentless.
"Do you have any idea whose turf you're standing on? Want me to make sure you never show your face here again?" she sneered.
Eddie shot me an awkward look, then quickly tried to calm Monica down.
"Come on, Monica, don't let it get to you on Christmas Eve. How about I drive you to the market next door instead?" he offered.
"That'll just waste time. I want to cook Lorenzo's Christmas Eve dinner myself. I need to get everything ready," Monica huffed.
Monical considered for a second, then looked at me, clearly annoyed.
"Forget it, I can't be bothered to argue with someone like you. Just hurry up and pack two fish, make sure they're cleaned before you hand them over," she said.
I didn't say a word, but my hand clenched around the knife, pressing down harder without even thinking.
I was furious about her words.
Fish scales splattered across Monica's long red dress, leaving a big, ugly stain.
Monica let out a piercing scream, her voice echoing through the market.
"Are you blind? This is a custom long dress. Just because I called you out, you're doing this on purpose to get back at me, aren't you?" She yelled.
I was about to speak, but before I could, a familiar voice rang out.
"Who's got the guts to mess with my fiancée on my turf?" a man's voice came.