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"C'mon! That's uncalled for," Priest said, despite him being in laughter as well.

"He's right, though," Jazzy agreed. "She got it out bad for this one," she informed him and pointed to Britain. With a roll of her eyes, Britain laughed. She knew Sylvia hated her, and it was for all the wrong reasons.

"Fuck her finding out you really alive! Imagine how she gone act when she finds out y'all getting married," Kaymen mentioned, causing J'Ru and Jazzy to agree.

Priest was sitting across from Britain at the table, and the two exchanged a look with each other. Hearing this was putting things into perspective for both of them, making them realize they had a lot working against them if and when they ever agreed to return to New York. It was a lot to think about.

"Speaking of wedding, what's the plan?" Jazzlyn asked Priest.

A smooth chuckle aired out of Priest. Because of their line of questioning, at this point, he felt like he was in the hot seat, but he wasn't rubbed the wrong way by it. He understood their worries and concerns. After all, whatever he decided to do would affect them. His life always seemed to have a ripple effect on everyone else's.

"I think we’re just enjoying the engagement," he shrugged before taking a drink of the brown liquor he had lingering in his cup. "But if Brit wants to start planning now, I'm good with that too," he added as she averted his gaze to Britain.

Britain shifted in her seat a bit. In her mind, the question was what was the point of planning a wedding if they couldn't sign the paperwork? But she had yet to have that conversation with him. A light smile canvassed her face as she nodded her head, agreeing with him. "Yeah, I'm not in a rush, but I'm also not against looking around for some ideas. Maybe we can go shopping tomorrow, Jazzy?" She turned to Jazzlyn in hopes of ending the conversation about her and Priest's wedding.

In Britain's favor, the conversation was steered away from the wedding as J'Ru cut in. "Jazzy rolling with us tomorrow," he told Britain.

Priest's face screwed up at J'Ru dictating where Jazzy would be going the following day. "Since when?" he asked. "We’re handling business tomorrow. Jazzy got no parts in any of that."

Kaymen let out a heavy, stressed sigh as he leaned back in his seat. He could always count on J'Ru to just spit shit out without any second thought. Now he was bound to be caught in the crossfire between the J'Ru and Priest.

Tension was beginning to build around the dinner table. Jazzlyn definitely wanted to jump the table and strangle the hell out of J'Ru right now. Having Priest find out that she was working alongside them wasn't supposed to go down like this. If anything, she wanted to be the one to tell her brother.

"I'm talking to myself now?" Priest throated out, his tone much heavier as the frustration began to brew within him. He was awaiting a response from either of them, but they looked as though they were all awaiting someone else to give him the answers.

"We ran into an issue," Kaymen finally spoke up, hoping that if he led the conversation, there would be fewer chances of a blow up because J'Ru and Priest were both too headstrong.

"I ain't hear about no issue, so what’s really going on?" Priest scoffed before taking another swig of the liquor in his cup.

A heavy breath exhaled out of J'Ru as he sat his utensils down on his dinner plate. "You sent us an empty ship when we were ready to load it with paper and send it back here," he reminded Priest, referring to the ship that was supposed to be filled with product. "We couldn't just have all that paper sitting around. If the wrong eyes landed on it, ain't no telling what motherfuckas would’ve done to get their hands on that paper," J'Ru continued to explain.

"We do what we always do," Priest cut in. He felt like J'Ru was gearing up to tell him a long-winded story that he really didn't have time for. If having the money sitting around was an issue, then J'Ru and Kaymen should have brought the money over to the trusted accountant who had never done wrong by them.

Kaymen shook his head. "You know we can't do that, P. Out here, you're living, but out there in the city, you gone. Ain't no way your accountant should be seeing that much paper when you're supposed to be dead. It just wouldn't make sense," Kaymen continued to explain, hoping that Priest would quickly understand.

"So, where Jazzy come in at?" Priest's thick brows were pushed together in confusion. Sitting across from him, Britain could see the patience diminishing within him by the second. He was trying his best to keep his composure, but she was unclear how long that would last.

Britain completely understood Priest and believed his feelings about Jazzlyn dabbling in the business were warranted. After all, she was his little sister, and he vowed to protect her. Having her dealing in a business he was trying to shake away from was just unacceptable.At the mention of her name, Jazzy sat up straight, diverting her orbs over to Priest, who was awaiting a response.

"I handled the issue," she reluctantly informed him.

She could tell from her brother's body language that he was on the brink of flashing out. He had specifically forbidden her from getting involved in the business Kaymen and J'Ru were taking care of, hence the fact he had her in charge of all the clean businesses like the residential building, restaurant, laundromats and the bodega. Admittedly, he expected his rebellious little sister to find a way to weasel herself into some shit she had no business in; however, he also expected for his boys not to let herin with open arms. As he sat on the other side of the dining table fuming with rage, Jazzy was silently praying J'Ru or Kaymen would pipe in to take the heat for her.

"I move to Italy and it's like motherfuckas lose their fucking minds overnight," he said to himself as he lifted his napkin from his lap, tossing it onto the plate that sat before him. He no longer had an appetite. His chest was scorching with anger, so much so that he wanted to flip the entire dinner table.

"Answer me this," he pointed his finger directly at the men. "This how y'all look out for her? By having her get her hands dirty?" He screwed up his face in distaste as he questioned them.

J'Ru smacked his lips. "Fuck is you talking about? Wearelooking out for her," he snapped in defense.

Britain, who was watching the scene unfold, felt her stomach tighten. This was what Priest was referring to when he advised her that he and the guys were bound to go at it. She wanted so badly to cut in and be the peacemaker for everyone, but with the way Priest and J'Ru were cutting each other with their eyes, she was afraid that either of them would jump down her throat for interrupting.

"J'Ru, y'all got my fucking baby sister touching dirty money!" Priest aggressively gritted out as his voice raised an octave. "Nigga, is you fucking crazy?! You of all people should know I keep Jazzy out the fucking mix!"

Kaymen leaned back in his seat. His temper never really flared as much as Priest's and J'Ru's. Whenever the three got into heavy disputes, he usually spoke his piece once they were done hollering at each other. It just made sense that way for him. He wanted to be heard, and he knew if he even attempted to get something out, these niggas would block him out with their tempers and loud voices. He didn't have time for that.

In response to Priest, as expected, J'Ru matched his energy. "You got her doing the same shit, PJ! It's a fucking cycle, mynigga! Whatever money she’s touching at the restaurant, The Groves, and Bueno! all comes back to us, and we flip it! Ain't nobody at this table hands clean. We all touching dirty money!" J'Ru roared at Priest.

In a sense, J'Ru was right. They had created one hell of a system for themselves. Even though the system was foolproof, it still deemed everyone guilty. The money was not only coming from the drugs they were slanging, but it also invested in the drugs as well. Britain glanced around the table, noticing that she wasn't the only one who felt small amongst J'Ru and Priest's tempers. Jazzy sat with her lip crannied between her teeth, a look of worry washing over her face. She didn't want either of the men getting too carried away and ending up saying something they would regret, but she was far too afraid to cut in and put an end to the dispute.