Chapter Eight.
"I can read yo' energy, you think I'm bad company but I'm persistent to show you different," —Keishawna Michaels.
Bukhara Residence
The soft tone of Jagged Edge's-Promise, played throughout the master bedroom of both Citrus Hayes and Nahiem Bukhara, as they each partook in their own individual agendas.
It was Wednesday evening, also known as cleaning and laundry day for the females of the Bukhara Household. So, Citrus made her way around their room, doing exactly that. Picking out the laundry and putting it to the side, while also fixing anything out of place or altering what might've been in the wrong area. The two were both neat freaks and very organized, so majority of the time the room rarely needed much cleaning. Unless the sheets were being washed, or the windows were being cleaned, the floor swept, and the desk dusted. Then there was never much that needed to be done on the daily.
"Then if das' the case then dat's what should've been said from the start. You hurd me? Cause now I feel like I'm being played wit'. Like my intelligence is being taken as a joke. I've done nothing buh' supply y'all niggas wit' da greatest of drugs and protection,"Nahiem barred out.
He had been enduring an intense call for the last fifteen minutes.
It had only been a thick two weeks of him running the family business, and people were already trying him. He knew that was a given, a lot of connects and other Cartel's weren't too happy with Nahiem being the new Supreme of the Bukhara business.
To them—the only one that they felt could run it properly was Qadir Senior, and that's because it was mostly a respect and familiarity thing. Senior had started and built the business up. He had been involved in the game since he was a solid thirteen. His brothers, Uncles, Father, Godfather, and himself were the reason why the Bukhara's had such a big name, granted Qadir Senior put in much more work than the rest of them, but either way it went the family business was not a business without family.
So, what these people failed to grasp or understand was that Senior never would've handed things over to his eldest if he felt like Nahiem could not maintain. He would of never put his associates in that type of sticky situation from the start. Yet, he knew that his son was built for this and the best person to represent the Cartel. He knew that Nahiem would live up to his reputation if he didn't surpass it that was.
"Nah man fuck allat' cause you playin' on me and my family name. I'll bat the fuck outchu' dawg, do you know who I am?" He interrogated.
The phone pulled close to his ear, with his face scowled up as he slightly tilted his head. He could not believe what he was hearing.
Citrus continued to clean and move around him. She preferred to keep her distance when he was in one of his moods, unless it had to do with her than she just thought it'd be best to do her own thing. She did not like for that negative energy to flow onto her.
"Say man I'm not finna' sit here and listen ta' allat extra bullshit. You think I'm pussy? Is dat' what it is?"
"Lawd," Citrus called out as she made her way past him so that she could place a basket of freshly cleaned clothes in their closet.
However, Nahiem halted her movements by reaching out for her, slinging his arm around her waist and smoothly placing her on his lap. He placed a kiss on her neck and smiled at her before grabbing a hold of her bare thigh, and rubbing it.
