Shayla is pressuring Delicia to get involved with King. When Iman sees this, he’s going to lose his temper.” See Full Story BELOW⬇
Shayla had always known how to stir trouble without ever getting her hands dirty.
She wore her charm like armor and hid her intentions behind a flawless smile. To the outside world, she appeared sweet, supportive, and harmless.
But beneath that polished surface lived someone far more dangerous — a strategist who thrived on chaos.
Delicia was her latest target.
One evening, Shayla leaned closer to her, lowering her voice as if sharing something personal.
“Come on,” she said softly. “King likes you. You know that.”
“You deserve someone bold. Someone exciting.”
Delicia shifted uneasily.
“I don’t know, Shayla,” Delicia replied. “Things are complicated… especially with Iman.”
Shayla smiled — slow, careful, calculated.
“Iman?” she said lightly. “He doesn’t even see what’s right in front of him.”
“You shouldn’t wait for someone who can’t decide.”
Those words stayed with Delicia.
Over the next few days, Shayla kept pushing — subtle comments, casual nudges, perfectly timed advice.
She encouraged Delicia to spend more time with King.
To laugh a little louder. To sit a little closer. To let the lines blur… just enough.
Delicia was confused. Emotionally worn down.
And eventually…
She gave in.
The night it happened, the air felt heavy with tension.
King and Delicia stood too close. Laughing too loudly.
Their body language said more than words ever could.
And then —
Like fate itself had planned it —
Iman walked in.
He stopped dead in his tracks.
The sight hit him like a punch to the chest.
Delicia. King. Together.
Too close. Too comfortable.
Something inside him snapped.
His jaw tightened. His fists clenched.
His heartbeat roared in his ears as anger rushed through his veins.
“What the hell is going on here?” Iman barked.
The room went silent.
Delicia turned, her face draining of color.
“Iman—”
But he didn’t let her finish.
“So this is what you’ve been doing?” he snapped. “Behind my back?”
“I swear, it’s not—”
“You swear?” he laughed bitterly. “You’re standing right there with him.”
“Don’t insult me.”
His temper had completely slipped out of control.
King tried to speak.
Iman shot him a look so fierce it shut him up instantly.
“You stay out of this.”
Delicia felt tears burn her eyes.
From the corner of the room…
Shayla watched.
She didn’t look shocked.
She looked satisfied.
This was exactly what she wanted.
While Iman unleashed his anger — accusing, questioning, doubting —
Shayla stepped closer to him, pretending concern.
“Iman,” she said gently, touching his arm, “you deserve honesty.”
“And someone who won’t hurt you like this.”
Delicia stared at her in disbelief.
For a brief second, the mask slipped.
There was no guilt in Shayla’s eyes.
Only triumph.
Later that night, Delicia sat alone — crying and confused.
Outside, under the city lights π
Shayla walked beside Iman.
“You okay?” she asked softly.
“No,” he said quietly. “I trusted her. She made me look like a fool.”
Shayla tilted her head.
“Some people don’t know what they have until it’s gone.”
He didn’t answer.
But he didn’t pull away either.
Shayla felt it —
The distance growing between Iman and Delicia.
The space she had created.
And she smiled.
Because chaos wasn’t just something Shayla caused.
It was something she enjoyed. π₯ππ
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