The man leaned back on the plush grey suede couch, listening to the muffled conversations of his bodyguards and crew. Laughter filled the spacious room, adorned with palazzo red and gold wallpaper, and the scent of marijuana lingered in the air. His attention was solely focused on the ten stacks of cash arranged neatly on the mahogany coffee table, held together by red rubber bands. His dark brown eyes remained fixed on the pile of money, contemplating his next move.
Unique was finishing up a few deals in his stash house around Queens late at night, the corners through the block weren't useful anymore but Unique made sure to add more customers using his stash house and his plan was successful by being one step ahead before anyone else.
"Any new word on the street Worrell?" Unique inquired of him, taking a long drag from the blunt in between his fingers. A gold herringbone chain slowly swayed around his neck Nique sported the designer brown beige MCM coat mixed with black and black pants pooled his legs, on his feet were beige timberlands.
Worrell's ears perked at the question his boss asked him, besides crime, corruption, and violence lastly Raquel working her way up, the new word on the street was about his ex-girlfriend, Lanae's new boyfriend. His right-hand man had let him know of any news to Unique. It didn't matter what it was, as long as the news is valuable for his knowledge.
He cleared his throat nervously with his straight face shooting at Unique, "Y-yeah there are a few baseheads on the corner and Raquel been trying to get her spot....ummm *fake cough* Lanae got a new nigga." Worrell mutters under his breath when he spoke those last set of words.
Unique quickly rose from the couch shooting a mean mug at Worrell, his face was written with anger and jealousy but mostly jealousy clouded his mind. He heard it clearly despite him talking under his breath, this wasn't even close to being bad. Shoving the blunt into the ashtray on the square-shaped coffee table while strolling toward Worrell.
Unique's masculine hands that sported gold rings gripped the collar of his black jacket while roughly shoving Worrell into the palazzo red and gold majestic wallpaper, "The fuck you heard on the street nigga? Speak the fuck up man!" Unique spat harshly, his eyes had rage in them.
"Nique you ain't gon' like it—" Unique interrupted him with a loud tsk and evil grin, "Don't make me repeat myself unless yo' ass is ready to eat a bullet Worrell.." He threatened him coldly, meaning every word.
Another fight with his boss would painfully extricating not just physically but mentally exhausting for Worrell, there was no use to keep it silent.
"I–word on the street is Lanae got a new nigga yo.." Worrell confessed, keeping his hands to his sides while sighing in defeat.
