1 Night, 9 Months…. Part 9

Daysha had answered Tahje’s call already heated, her patience long gone.

“So you really got the bitch pregnant?” she snapped.

Silence stretched on the other end. Too long.

Tahje opened his mouth, then closed it again. No lie came fast enough.

“Cat got your tongue, huh, nigga?” Daysha scoffed, pacing the length of her living room. Her jaw was tight, hands shaking—not weak, but controlled. Dangerous. “After everything I did for you? After I held you down when nobody else would?”

He finally exhaled. “Daysha, listen—”

“Don’t,” she cut him off. “Don’t explain. Don’t apologize. Because whatever you say next won’t save you.”

She stopped pacing and stared at her reflection in the dark TV screen. Her eyes looked colder than she felt, and that scared even her.

“Watch what happens next,” she said quietly. “You did this to yourself.”

Click.

Tahje stared at his phone like it had betrayed him. He called back immediately. Straight to voicemail. Again. Same result. His chest tightened. Daysha wasn’t the type to talk just to hear herself speak. When she went quiet, that’s when things moved.

Across town, Daysha sat down slowly, breathing steady now. Anger had burned off, leaving clarity behind. She thought about every bill she’d paid, every secret she’d kept, every time she’d defended Tahje when he didn’t deserve it. She had given him loyalty without limits.

And he treated it like it was disposable.

“By any means necessary,” she murmured to herself.

Her phone lit up again—Tahje’s name flashing across the screen. She turned it face down.

Everything was already in motion.

Meanwhile, Tahje was scrambling—jumping through hoops, saying all the right things—trying to please Kyra just enough to keep her quiet. Gifts, promises, reassurances whispered late at night. He thought if he moved fast, he could control the damage.

He was wrong.

Daysha already knew about Kyra’s pregnancy.

The moment the confirmation hit her, something dark flashed through her mind. Quick. Violent. Final. For a split second, she imagined ending it right there—Kyra, Tahje, the problem erased in one breath.

But Daysha wasn’t reckless.

She knew how these things went. Too emotional. Too obvious. If Kyra or Tahje ended up hurt, all roads would lead straight back to her. She’d be the first name spoken. The easiest suspect.

And Daysha refused to be easy.

She sat back and let the anger simmer, letting logic take the wheel. This wasn’t about impulse—it was about precision. About patience. About letting people destroy themselves while she guided the fall.

She pulled out her phone, scrolling through old messages, old favors, old secrets. Leverage lived everywhere if you knew where to look. Tahje had always been careless. Kyra was new to the game. Pregnant, emotional, exposed.

Daysha smiled faintly.

She didn’t need blood on her hands to make them bleed.

She needed a plan.

And she had time.

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