July 23, 2021 – Kingston, Jamaica.
Kyle sat on the edge of his hotel bed, the photo clutched in his hand.
Derrick.
The face was older, but there was no mistaking it. Same sharp jawline. Same deep-set eyes, carrying that restless fire. Kyle's chest tightened. He'd mourned his father years ago. Buried the anger. Buried the confusion. Now, here was proof—or a trap.
The morning sun cut through the blinds, casting stripes across the room. Omar stormed in, half out of breath.
"You get it too?" he asked, eyes darting to the photo.
Kyle looked up. "What you mean too?"
Omar pulled out his phone. A message glowed on the screen: Don't let him walk into Tivoli alone.
Kyle's grip on the photo tightened.
July 23 – NoonSecurity wanted answers. They'd already caught wind of something being off—Kyle had been dodging calls, skipping parts of his schedule. His agent even flew down from Miami that morning, demanding a sit-down.
