Page 39

Chapter Thirty

Easing the car to a stop, Priest swiftly got out. Britain wasn't sure what he wanted her to do, so in the meantime, she just waited for him to instruct her so she could oblige.

Priest hopped out of the vehicle, going around it to assist Britain out. Stepping out of the car, Britain looked around the parking garage of the penthouse. She noticed men from Priest's security detail posted at either side of the entrance of the parking garage. Priest was running a tight ship because he was sure that whoever fired shots into the apartment building knew that Mirsad had some type of relation to him.

A slight wind crept through the parking garage, causing Britain to shiver lightly. "I'm gonna get you home. Alright?" Priest assured her as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder in hopes of keeping her warm.

Britain okayed him as they progressed toward the elevator. Luckily for her, Priest wasn't taking her up to the penthouse. Instead, he halted to hold a conversation with Cyro. "I need you to take her home for me, please," he requested.

Britain was familiar with Cyro. He was always around whenever Priest knew he would be surrounded by masses of people.Cyro led the way to the chartered black-on-black SUV. He slid into the front seat which was separated from the back seats by the partition. Priest pulled the door open for Britain before helping her inside.

"You sure everything's alright?" Britain asked with concern lacing her voice.

Priest nodded. "I'm cool," he assured her. "You've got my word." He placed his hand over his heart, sealing the promise to her.

She took his word as bond. "I love you, playa’," he said with a smile masking his face.

Britain couldn't help but let a smile overtake her face as she looked up at him. "I love you too, playa”," she professed as she pecked his lips with a multitude of kisses.

Priest passionately kissed her goodbye for a brief moment before pulling away and pecking her lips one last time. "I'll see you later alright," he asserted with confidence. Britain nodded her head.

"See you later." He closed the door and applied a tap onto the roof of the car, signaling Cyro that he was free to go. As the SUV pulled off, Priest made sure they exited the parking garage safely before turning on his heels to trek his way back toward the elevator.

Making his way up and bypassing the heavy security measures, Priest stood behind the heavy steel doors as they glided open. His Versace sneakers made contact with the dark oak floors as he strode toward Nia who was still in distress.

"You alright?" Priest took a seat next to Nia on the couch before wrapping his arm around her shoulder to console her.

Nia had been out in the streets before turning her life around, but the severity of this incident, with bullets making passageways through the walls she was within, was frightening, even for a former drug addict like herself. Nia nodded her head. "Y-yeah, I'm… I'm fine," she said, still in a daze.

Mirsad sat opposite his mother with his head in his hands. He felt guilty. It was evident, however, that his guilt wouldn't change what had just occurred. "What happened?" Priest asked as he eyed Nia.

Mirsad began to speak. "I don't?—"

Priest’s head jolted up to allow his dark eyes to pierce into Mirsad who immediately recanted his response.

"I ain't speaking to you yet," he gritted out to Mirsad. “Nia, what happened?"

Nia lifted her head from Priest's shoulder, her eyes glancing over at Mirsad who had a look of sorrow glimmering within his eyes. She cleared her throat, trying her best to pull herself together. Planting her sweaty palms against her thighs, she wiped them down her jeans before letting out a heavy breath.

"I was locking up the drawer where I keep all the money orders for the rent and… um as soon as I was getting up, shots just started ringing out. They were back-to-back, just coming one after the other," she explained with a cracked voice. "All I was worried about was the daycare in the back. Vivian, the lady unit 23F, she was working a late shift, and I agreed to keep her son and daughter until she came home. They were in the back when all the bullets came through." Nia gulped. Although she was frightened to death for her own life, all she kept thinking about was making sure the kids were fine. Luckily, the bullets didn't travel far enough to harm either of them.

"Where are the kids now?" Priest inquired.

Jazzy piped up, jumping into conversation in response to her brother. "I was with Cyro when I got the call from Mirsad. We took them to their mother. They were pretty shaken up, so I got them a hotel for the night so they could feel safe." Priest admired his sister's act of kindness, and he was glad she had learned that trait from him.

"Good looking out," he commended his sister as he rose from the couch. "Nia, you're alright here. Jazzy will take care of you."

"Actually," Jazzy piped in with an uneasy look on her face. "I gotta get to work. Grind don't stop ‘cause our cousin is playing a dangerous game." Her cold set of orbs seared into Mirsad who still had a guilty look etched stupidly across his face.

Priest nodded in agreement. "I get it," he assured her. “I'll have extra security with you just in case."

Priest was playing no games with this situation. Although everyone assumed those bullets were the consequences of Mirsad's actions, Priest was thinking two steps ahead just in case they weren't exactly addressed to Mirsad as a warning. Priest had many enemies who didn't really appreciate his presence or the work he did for the community because they believed the way Priest was living his life was a facade. They thought he was in the game for the publicity because even though everyone knew exactly what he did to make his money, especially the media, they still promoted him as the face of New York. It just didn't make sense to anyone.

With the recognition came with a lot of enemies, so Priest wouldn't have been surprised if those warning shots were addressed to him instead. Using his cell, Priest called up Kaymen while Jazzy made her way out of the penthouse with her security in close proximity waiting for her to make it down from the elevator.

"Yo," Kaymen answered the call. "What you need me to do?" Kaymen was almost always on task. He never missed a beat with his duties and never once complained.

"Something slight. I just need an eye on Nia. She's not in the best shape." Given what she had just endured, Priest could understand why she was so afraid and adamant about not being left alone at the moment.

"Her bad-ass son there?" Kaymen asked as he steered his vehicle in the direction of Priest's penthouse.

Priest glanced straight ahead at Mirsad while nodding his head. "Yeah, but don't trip. He's coming with me," he assured Kaymen.

Kaymen chuckled. "Don't kill him," he joked light heartedly.

Priest rose from his seat, motioning his finger at Mirsad, signaling him to stand up and follow him. "That decision is his to make," Priest shrugged. "‘Preciate you for coming through," he thanked Kaymen.

"No doubt. I'll be there in a minute." The call ended after they said their goodbyes.

Priest dropped his phone back into his pocket before turning on his heels to face Nia. "I got security surrounding this whole building, and I'll have someone up here with you until Kaymen comes through. The place is yours," he assured her with a doting voice. He hated that he had to move so quickly instead of sticking around to console her fears away, but Nia understood.

She nodded her head, assuring him that he and Mirsad were okay to leave. As promised, Priest called one of the men from his security detail up to the penthouse to ensure Nia's safety. Stepping into the elevator, Mirsad followed behind Priest. His cousin had yet to say anything that was too frightening to him, so he knew Priest was beyond pissed. Usually, he would just cut to the chase, but right now, he was moving really strategic.

As the thick steel doors collided, Priest turned to Mirsad who kept his eyes straight ahead. Instantly, Priest's massive hands clenched Mirsad's neck as he lifted him a few inches off the ground. "How fucking stupid you gotta be to put ya moms in danger?" he gritted at Mirsad who was far more concerned about the restriction of his air than Priest pressing him.

Mirsad's eyelids were peeled back, widened in shock. He gripped Priest's wrist tightly as his feet dangled above the ground. Priest eyed him for a few more seconds that felt like an eternity for Mirsad. Figuring he had teeter-tottered Mirsad close enough to the edge of death, he unclenched his neck, sending Mirsad crashing to the floor of the elevator, gasping for air.

Priest’s dark and cold eyes peered down at Mirsad, who was rubbing his neck as he coughed excessively at the sudden rush of air.He peeled his eyes from Mirsad, lacking any remorse for the troublesome teenager. As the doors of the elevator glided open, he stepped out of them. Mirsad eventually recovered and got up from the ground. He dragged himself behind Priest, who had already gotten into the backseat of one of his black-on-black SUVs. His usual driver greeted him politely.

Mirsad slid into the seat next to Priest, shutting the door behind him. "Where to, Mr. Justice?" Ike, the driver, asked as he neared the exit of the parking garage.

Priest’s eyes peered out of the darkly tinted windows. "The Groves, Ike. Thank you," Priest requested, and Ike simply nodded before raising the partition back up.

The drive to The Groves was typically a lengthy one whenever Priest wasn't driving and cutting lane to lane. Mirsad sat in silence. He knew he had fucked up. He didn't have the means or the willpower to handle the shit on his own, but Priest did. "What happened, Mirsad?" Priest asked, trying his best to keep his composure while sitting with his hands fused together.

Mirsad kept his orbs pointed at his feet. "I don't know, man," he murmured.

"So, these niggas came gunning for ya moms, and you don't know why? You shittin' me?" Priest shook his head in far more disappointment than he thought he could ever have. "Answer me this: what if one of those bullets went through those walls and hit Nia right in between the eyes? You'd know then, huh?" Priest shifted a brow up at Mirsad, who was denying him eye contact out of embarrassment.

Mirsad said nothing. He never really thought niggas would be coming for his mom. That was street code; kids, women, and mothers went untouched. If those bullets would have even graced Nia, Mirsad knew Priest would’ve ended him in a heartbeat. As insane and sinister as it sounded, Mirsad knew his life was constantly in the air when it came to being around Priest. "Can you not fucking talk like that?!" Mirsad huffed in frustration.

"That's fucking reality! You play with fire and get your ass burned! If you don't have the means to fucking protect your people, then don't do shit to put their lives on the line!" Priest seethed at Mirsad, his baritone voice circulating throughout the vehicle. "Nia and those kids could have fucking died today! That's three funerals that you would have been responsible for! Instead of worrying about how real I'm keeping it with you, you should be worried about keeping your moms alive! You think them niggas gone stop?! This is only the beginning! I can't protect everybody!"

"I'm not asking you to protect me, Priest! I never asked for none of this shit! My moms never asked for no fucking hand out from you either!" Mirsad shouted in fury. His nose flared as his chest heaved up and down.

Priest eyed Mirsad, amusement easing out of him. He shook his head with a chuckle. "You got shit all figured out, huh?" Priest asked with a smirk.

Mirsad said nothing in return. He kept his eyes down at his feet, not knowing how to respond to Priest. A part of him wanted to defy Priest’s words and just say that he did have shit figured out and he could get these niggas on his own, while the other part of him was thinking logically and strategically. Mirsad knew these niggas would blow him out the water if he didn't have Priest on his side, and he couldn't risk that.

Priest took Mirsad's silence as his answer. He nodded as he eyed the scenery that was passing them by through the window. "Exactly,” Priest stated, indicating that he proved his point. He knew the answer to his question just as much as Mirsad did. The kid got under his skin terribly, but he would never allow him to take a knife into a gun fight. This was something Priest was just going to have to step up and handle, no matter how bad he wanted to teach Mirsad a permanent lesson.

When he arrived at The Groves, Priest stepped out of the vehicle just as Mirsad did. The clouds were beginning to congregate in the sky as one big gray cloud that carried the strength of a storm. Hinting at the storm that was to come, a light drizzle began falling. Priest led the way toward the building. It was swarming with responders and officers who came to assess the scene, along with residents of the neighborhood who wanted an inside look at what had transpired.

"Sir, you can't go beyond this line." One deputy attempted to keep Priest behind the yellow tape that blocked access to the building.

"I own this spot," he informed them before crouching underneath the yellow tape with Mirsad following close behind him. His Versace sneakers stepped on the bullet-shattered glass that surrounded the area. Seeing the state of the building wasn't much of a bother to Priest. He knew he could have everything repaired in no time. What bothered him was the safety of the residents. He didn't want any of his tenants going to bed with fear and worry circling their minds.

Entering the building, Priest found more investigators surveying the scene at a close range. He glanced around. The entire interior of the leasing office was decorated with bullet holes. There wasn't a wall that had gone untouched. All he could be grateful for was that no one was hurt, especially Nia and the kids she was looking after.

J'Ru, who was expecting Priest's arrival, met him and Mirsad at the entrance of the office. "Who the fuck you piss off?" J'Ru eyed Mirsad up and down.

Mirsad ran his hand down his face. "Nobody." He shook his head.

"Look the fuck around." J'Ru gestured around himself, motioning to the bullet holes that were sprayed throughout the room. "Any nigga capable of this ain't just nobody."

Priest agreed with J'Ru. "You got what we need, though?" he asked J'Ru discreetly.

J'Ru glanced around to ensure that no one was watching their actions. He unclenched his fist, revealing the small thumb drive he had just swiped from the main computer that stored all the surveillance footage. Priest nodded, and J'Ru handed the thumb drive over to him so he could conceal it in his own pocket.

"Mirsad, you going with him," he informed Mirsad. "I gotta take care of everything here."

J'Ru smacked his lips. "I don't baby sit," he declined with a snarl.

"I'm not your fucking kid," Mirsad muttered rudely.

J'Ru snapped his head in the direction of Mirsad, giving him a crazed look. "You right. If you were mine, I would have been stomped the fuck outta you. Listen, ain't no ties between me and you this way. I look out for him." J'Ru pointed to Priest, making it crystal clear that his favor was extended to Priest rather than Mirsad. "Stop playing with me, you fucking peon," J'Ru spat before averting his attention back to Priest.

"I'm out." He extended his hand to dap Priest up, initiating a goodbye.

An amused smirk pranced across Priest's face as he realized J’Ru had gathered Mirsad well enough to shut him the hell up. "Good looking out. I'll handle him here. Maybe this shit will jog his memory a bit." Priest changed his mind about Mirsad traveling with J'Ru.

He and J'Ru slapped hands again. "No doubt. My work here is done?"

Priest shrugged lightly. "Until further notice," he said and J'Ru agreed.

J'Ru bypassed the slew of deputies who were actively working to gather evidence. Priest took another look around. Free from the conversation he was having with J'Ru, Priest was approached by one of the lead investigators. She made her way over to him in her sleek black pant suit with her hair pulled back in a slick ponytail that swayed with each of her movements. The thin gold necklace she wore around her neck that was strung with what Priest assumed was her wedding ring, contrasted against her dewy almond skin.

She had a set of beautiful brown eyes and graceful lashes to match. Priest could tell by the expression on her face she was going to be a pain in the ass. "Priest Justice?" The smile she gave him was light, more observant than polite.

Priest nodded his head. "You are?" His eyes scanned her up and down.

"Detective Westbrook." She extended her hand to him, and he shook it. "You don't mind walking me through this, do you? We have nothing to work with here besides bullet casings and holes in the wall." She motioned her hands around, alluding to the chaos in the room.

Priest licked his lips instinctively. "I was out of town when this happened," he informed her.

Detective Westbrook furrowed her perfectly arched brows. "Out of town? Last I heard, you aren't supposed to be out of the jurisdiction of New York," she said to him.

Priest let out a challenging chuckle. He found it funny that he was the talk of every precinct and bureau. "Not that it's any of your concern—" Priest’s dark orbs shifted from her brown ones and focused on her name plate to catch a refresher on her name before continuing. "Detective Westbrook, but if I'm not mistaken, Amagansett is still in the jurisdiction of New York. Maybe out of your jurisdiction, but still in mine." He shot her a smug smile.

Detective Westbrook took the dig he threw at her with a grain of salt and a nod of her head. "We'll have this place clear in less than an hour. In the meantime, how about you work on getting us that security footage."

Priest smirked. "My pleasure." After Priest successful handed over a copy of the footage on an empty drive, the officers cleared out in a timely manner like Detective Westbrook promised. Mirsad followed Priest to the back of the office where his mother usually lingered whenever she was handling maintenance requests, new tenants, and things of that nature. Because the bullets hadn’t stood a chance of traveling that far, the room had gone untouched. Priest pulled out the seat behind the desk so he could sit.

Mirsad was aware of what Priest was doing once he installed the drive on the computer. Clicking on a few things, Priest rotated the monitor to allow Mirsad to catch a view of the footage the cameras caught at various angles of the building’s exterior. "Sit down and watch," Priest ordered him.

Mirsad let out a dreadful sigh. "No point," he said. "I don't know who these niggas are.”

"You'll watch it until you figure it out," Priest stated as he tapped the space bar to play the video.

Alongside Mirsad, Priest watched the tapes over and over. The sight of the black-on-black Impala screeching past the building as niggas shot round after round through it was all that could be seen. Four seconds into the footage, a male could be seen hanging his head out the window. The vehicle’s position prevented one of the cameras from getting a view of the male from the front; however, another camera showed a rear view and a partial side view. The shoulder-length dreads that were stuffed inside of the black skully wasn't much of a giveaway either.

Mirsad let out another dreadful sigh. "I don't know these niggas, Priest." He shrugged his shoulders in defeat.

"Watch it again," Priest demanded, rewinding the footage to play it for the umpteenth time. This went on all night. Priest forced Mirsad to watch the footage over and over again until he connected some type of dots. Mirsad finally noticed a red bandanna that was tied around the wrist of one of the dudes that participated in the shooting. It sparked his mind, triggering him. He only knew one nigga who casually tied a bandanna around his wrist.

"That's Darius," Mirsad let out as if he had finally had a revelation.

"What's the word?" Priest raised a brow, awaiting an explanation from Mirsad about why Darius was sending bullets into his building.

Mirsad smacked his lips as he slouched back in his seat. "We hit a lick, and he ain't gimme my cut, so I handled that." He shrugged his shoulders carelessly. Priest leaned back in his seat just as Mirsad did. He eyed him with anger, not believing that something that could have been solved so easily had blown up and now had Nia and two innocent kids frightened for their lives.

"Handled it how, ‘Sad?"

"I robbed him and his baby mother's spot. Nigga had it coming, though." He shrugged his shoulders.

Darius and Mirsad never had a friendship. They kept shit neutral for the sake of business. They hit a few licks and split the profit between them and anyone else who joined in. Mirsad had taken it upon himself to run his mouth about not getting his cut on social media, which brewed more turmoil between the two when everything unfolded. Mirsad ended up pulling up at Darius' spot and wiping it clean of all the cash and valuables that were lying around. He came up on a whole pound of good weed just from that single lick on Darius alone. He flipped it and had it circulating throughout the hood, and word got back to Darius. The designer weed he had imported from the west coast was being sold out in the streets just when his shit ended up missing. Mirsad, who was far too flashy, made it obvious he had hit Darius' spot. With the constant subliminal posts hinting at the fact that he took a nigga's shit and they weren't gonna do anything about it, along with the fact that he was advertising weed that he was never going to touch again because he didn’t have the right connections, Mirsad made himself Darius' target.

"Yo, you almost costed ya mother her life over some fucking lick you ain't get no cut from?" Priest asked for clarification with his face screwed up in confusion.

Mirsad let out a heavy huff of air. "Stop tryna downplay it. You would be hot too," he argued.

Priest rose from his seat, grabbing his phone from the desk while shaking his head. "You on your fucking own. Fix this shit," Priest gritted at his little cousin as he dialed the number of his driver so he could leave.

"I can't fucking stay here, P," Mirsad reminded him. "Now that I know who it is, I know what type of fire I'm gonna be handling." He implored Priest as he trailed behind him.

Priest didn’t find his pleas moving, and he shook his head as he paid Mirsad no mind "You're not cut for this, Mirsad! I tell you this shit all the time! You on your own, man!" Priest fumed in annoyance. "Cleaning up your fucking mess is getting old."

"What about my mom’s? You can't just leave her high and dry like you're doing me right now," Mirsad pointed out.

Priest cut his eyes at Mirsad. "Now you give a fuck about Nia?" he scoffed. "Stay away from her until you get this shit straightened out. I can't risk you putting her in danger right now." Priest shook his head.

He continued out of the office and headed to the car. Behind him, he could hear Mirsad shout a final slur at him. "Fuck you, Priest!"

"Handle it!" Priest concluded before getting into the back seat of the SUV.

The SUV peeled off from the curb, driving away from the building. Priest knew he had left Mirsad feeling defeated, especially since he expected him to come to his defense. The shit was petty to Priest, though. Mirsad needed to fix shit himself. Priest knew eventually he was going to have to take matters into his own hands, especially since Mirsad was quite talented at making any and every situation worse for himself. In the meantime, Priest was going to observe how well Mirsad conducted himself through this shit. It was going to be another lesson learned for Mirsad once he was finished with him.

Priest's driver was aware that he was heading to Britain's apartment instead of going back to the penthouse. The rain had picked up a bit, which caused mild taps from the water droplets against the windows. He leaned back in his seat, resting his head on the headrest before letting out a tired sigh.

Making sure everyone's safety was ensured was a hassle, but someone had to do it. Priest texted Kaymen that he was free to head out since Jazzy was set to go back to the penthouse in a few hours.Luckily for all of them, Kaymen's presence was enough assurance for Nia to fall sound asleep.

Arriving at Britain's place, Priest thanked his driver before getting out in the rain. In the parking lot, Priest gestured a slight head nod toward Cyro who had been keeping a close eye on Britain while Priest was out. This gave Cyro permission to pull off and leave the scene.Priest rushed out of the rain and to Britain's door. Reaching up to the lining of the door, he retrieved the spare key that was concealed perfectly. Using the key, he opened the door and stepped inside. Glancing around, he noticed Britain at the window, peeking through the blinds.

"Me and Cyro had an hour-long staring contest. He beat me every time," Britain announced to him once she heard the door shut.

Priest chuckled as he stripped himself of his jacket and stepped out of his sneakers. "Word?"

She looked over her shoulder at him while nodding. "Too bad he's gone now," she sighed in a playful manner.

He made his way over to her, taking a seat next to her. "You're funny. You know that?"

She shrugged her shoulders with a light smile. "Cyro doesn't think so. I didn't get him to crack a laugh not once," she groaned in defeat.

Priest laughed, aware that Cyro was a tough cookie to crack. His main priority was to keep everyone safe. He didn't find time to laugh or even get to know anyone. "What's up with Cyro?" Priest asked Britain.

Britain shrugged once more. "I don't know. I just never had a security guard before."

"You're not fucking with it?" he asked, aware that not everyone liked the thought of constantly being supervised and watched. Kaymen hated it. He would’ve rather taken his chances than have security. Hence the fact that he never showed up to any of Priest's trial dates. He just couldn't deal with the security detail and the constant cameras.

Britain let out a light breath. "I wouldn't say that, but it definitely takes a lot of getting used to," she explained. "For some reason, I still feel like he's still here." She took another quick glance through the blinds to make sure Cyro was officially gone.

Priest laughed, taking ahold of her wrist to prevent her from peeking through the blinds. "He's gone," he assures her.

More at ease now that Priest had returned to her presence, Britain rested her head on his chest. "What happened?" she asked, her voice light and faint.

Priest released a deep sigh. "It was nothing. I got it covered," he assured her in hopes she would let the conversation go.

"I know that," she persisted. "I asked what happened."

Priest’s eyes trailed down to her only to be met with her orbs searing into him, awaiting an answer. Figuring that Britain would be the last person to let anything go, Priest caved and decided to tell her. "One of my properties got shot up," he told her. "My cousin Nia, she worked in the leasing office and was caught in there when bullets started coming through. No one got hurt, but it's still bothering me. Her son Mirsad is just a blow up waiting to happen. I need to figure out what to do with him."

"Have you tried talking to him?" Britain asked.

Priest let out a curt chuckle. "I've also tried yelling, ignoring, and all that other shit. Nothing worked," he muttered. "I feel like the only way to get through to him is to go against him."

Britain sighed lightly before straddling his lap. Instantly, his strong hands gripped her sides while hers were planted on his chest. "I don't think he can handle you going against him, P." She leaned in slowly before pecking his soft lips.

Priest's right hand maneuvered from her side to the crook of her neck. As she pulled away, he pulled her closer to continue the kiss. "I'll take his pride away," Priest suggested out loud in the midst of their kiss.

"He's a kid, Priest. He shouldn't have that much pride," she reminded him.

Gazing into her eyes as she peered down at him, he licked his lips full of lust. "He has just enough for me to play him out. I'm done harping on him, though," he dismissed the conversation.

Britain nodded her head. "I appreciate you always making sure I'm safe," she expressed her gratitude.

"Always." Priest caressed her bottom lip with his thumb gently. "I promise to take care of you."

"I love you." Britain cupped her soft and tender hands around his face as she gazed at him adoringly.

"I love you too," he professed as a light smile formed on his lips. "I'll always take care of you, even if all this shit gets snatched away from me.” His light smile upgraded into a much more open and beaming one.

Britain smiled before pecking his lips gently. "I guess chivalry isn't dead," she teased.

Priest shook his head. "It's not," he assured. "Don't settle for nothing less than what I'm doing now, and never let me get too comfortable," he preached to her. His words stuck with her. Britain had a problem with becoming too invested in a relationship because she was being granted attention. She lowered her standards much more than she ever should’ve, and she accepted far too much. Priest could tell just by the stories she told him about her past relations with her ex.

He eyed Britain as she brushed her thumb against his tattoo-covered arm. She favored a few of them that she constantly traced with her finger. "Never make someone a priority when all you are to them is an option," Britain recited the quote by Maya Angelou that was inked into his arm right next to a small portrait of his mother. His strategic placement of the tattoos always puzzled Britain, but she never asked.

"I'll never make you feel like an option," Priest clarified to Britain once she finished reciting the quote aloud.