𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐁𝐄𝐃™

Part II

My nephews didn't owe her anything, and it's fair to say she knew this, which is why she refused to rebuttal.

"You've already lost Richards Valley, and once Kilon eats all your money up, you're going to wish you never did the community the way you did." I smirked, taking joy of her fallen face.

Everyday, she looked down on those people whose life she ruined to make her brand. Eventually, she'll be down there with them.

"Aren't you going to help me?" She stammered, standing herself so she could hold onto her grasp. "After all I've done? Training and caring for your nephews? Giving them a place to call home while they made profit!?"

Curling my lips up, psyching her, I tittered with another head shake. "We appreciate your hospitality, but no. See, Whitney.. blood takes care of blood and well, you're not blood."

"Eventually," I added, my pointer finger resting in her direction. "Eventually, we all have to fall off. It just happens to be your turn."

Everyone knows the rules of the game. No pin helps another pin. We wait until they fall and we take everything they had.

It was survivor of the fittest. The rest of us standing had a hunger to amalgamate our businesses.

"After all i've done?" She wined, her true wrinkles showing through the injections. "And you say this in front of the child?"

"You didn't let me finish, Whitney," I cut her off, smoothly. "Eventually, we all have to fall, but someone has to take our place."

It was then, she questioned my intentions for this unannounced visitation. "What are you insinuating?"

I chuckled, grimly, brushing the sinister smile from my lips with my dark, patchy, hand. "This empire belongs to Na'Jour now. I thought it'd be nice for you to see the new face of this city before you perish. Enjoy your last days, Whitney."

I watched the hate grown in her eyes, but at my son who just stared back with fear in his own.

He grabbed onto my arm and immediately, I shoved him off, warning him how I felt of such behavior.

It was good for him to have enemies at a young age. Shit like this built character, and I needed him to escape this hole he was locked in.

Holding in his tears, he clamped his own hand for comfort. My stern face told him to dismiss it, and he complied.

As far as myself,

Nobody was on my level.

I was the most paid, most respected, and the image of every niggas dream.

I made money so green, people would cry if they were given the chance to touch what I had.

The moment I got my son back, I worked on him immediately. Everyone saw a little boy, who was six, earning his seventh year in just a few months.

They saw Na'Jour and seen innocence, peace, and obedience. He was one of very little words, but complied to all my commands.

What they didn't know was he was forced fed the realities of this world. He was young, but he wasn't useless.

My son knew all the ins and outs of  the industry.

He's aware of our friends and foes, and if he's smart enough he'll know that all friends are foes.
Our visit with Whitney would prove that.

I never hid a thing from him, making sure to tell  everything about his crazy mother.

Word went around about Yasmin's reappearance and instead of taking care of her ass, I had a visitation prepared for her and Na'Jour.