Page 148 of Chosen By a Baller 3: Playin’ For Keeps

“The fuck ever.”

I tossed my phone onto the couch beside me, only to snatch it right back up a few seconds later.

I couldn’t help myself.

The shit wasn’t making sense.

After those pictures hit the blogs, Kyrie should’ve been questioning everything that bitch told him. He should’ve been wondering why she was meeting up with her ex in the first fucking place.

Instead, his ass was somewhere playing photographer while she smiled in pictures with fans.

I clicked over to another post.

Same shit.

People were still talking about the pictures of Sianni and Amani, but now more and more comments were calling the whole thing old news. Some people were even defending her ass, saying the blogs had made the situation look worse than it really was.

That wasn’t how this shit was supposed to go.

I wanted Kyrie questioning her.

I wanted them arguing.

I wanted that little perfect-ass marriage of theirs cracking right down the fucking middle.

Instead, every time I looked up, they were still together.

My phone vibrated in my hand, but I ignored the notification as I stared at Sianni’s picture again.

I still didn’t understand what the fuck Kyrie saw in her.

Yeah, the bitch was pretty. I’d give her that.

But pretty bitches were everywhere.

There wasn’t anything so damn special about Sianni that should’ve had Kyrie Maddox walking around, acting like she was the only woman on earth.

Especially after everything.

The pictures.

Amani.

The shit people were saying about their marriage.

None of it mattered.

She still had his last name.

She still had his attention.

And judging by what that fan had posted, she still had his ass right beside her.

“Shit don’t make no fucking sense.”

“What don’t make sense?”

I looked up from my phone when Marissa walked into the room.