Page 4

I strolled into Damier’s high-rise downtown office, calm as anything, watching him buried under a mountain of paperwork. He looked up from his desk with that ever-present smugness, and I held back a grin. There’s nothing like catching him off guard.

“My crybaby ass twin, looking all important,” I said, letting my voice cut through the silence of his overly pristine office. It was hard not to smirk at the way his jaw tightened when he realized it was me.

“The fuck you want, my nigga?” His tone was calm, trying too hard, but I could see the tension in his eyes. That’s what I had done to him since we were kids—no amount of billion-dollar success could wipe that away.

I sank down in the chair across from him, stretching out like I belonged there. “Thought I’d check in on my dear brother. How’s that leg treating you? You finally know what pain feels like.” I threw out a chuckle, one that let him know I had the upper hand.

“Leg is good enough to stomp you the fuck out,” he fired back, hand clenched under his glass desk, eyes narrowing. “That is, if you’re behind that hit.”

I laughed louder this time. “You actually think I’d waste a hit on you? I know I did some fucked up shit, but family doesn’t do that to family.” I leaned back, unbothered. “But then again, you’re a nigga who’s gathered his fair share of enemies. Must be rough at the top.”

He huffed, visibly irritated. “Enough with the bullshit. What do you want? I got work to do.”

His tone almost had me feeling bad—almost. “I figured it was time for me to make a grand appearance,” I replied, not breaking his gaze. “After all, you hit that two-billion-dollar mark. I saw you last night getting all the praise. Mom said you’d be generous, throw your ‘struggling’ brother a bone.” I let that last part simmer, the sarcasm all too obvious.

“It sounds like you need an allowance.” He scoffed, leaning back, feigning amusement. “What are you, a kid again?”

I clenched my jaw, but I kept it cool. “Just fifty bands a month. No drama, no hassle. I’ll put all the exposing the family behind me and move on. You got more than enough now, don’t you?”

That really got him laughing. “Fifty K a month? You think I’ma fuckin’ bank?” He shook his head, the amusement in his eyes gone. “Or maybe you finally realize you can’t stand on your own.”

I leaned forward, looking him dead in the eye. “Careful, my guy, the only person that can’t stand right now is you. You’re only untouchable as long as you keep me out of the gutter. Give me what I want, or things might get uncomfortable around here.” I let my words hang in the air, and I watched as that amusement drained from his face. “You know what I’m capable of.”

“Uncomfortable?” He leaned in, voice low, steady. “You keep threatening me like you want me to do what ya momma told me to do. My nigga, if it’s beef you want, it’s beef you’ll get. But I’m not giving you any money.”

I sat back, letting the twisted smirk curl back onto my face. “A’ight,” I said. “Just remember, you’re the one choosing to make this shit difficult. I’ll be around, one way or another.”

With that, I stood, taking my time, letting him feel the weight of my words before I turned for the door.

$$$$$

Leaving Damier’s office was nothing short of disappointing. My attempt to extend an olive branch had been met with laughter and arrogance. My “brother” had always been smug, but now, with two billion to his name, he was untouchable—or so he thought.

I slid into my black AMG coupe and made my way back to my condo. I had given Damier the option to do this the easy way, but clearly, he preferred to complicate shit. A smirk tugged at my lips as I imagined how this would play out.

The moment I stepped into my condo, I was greeted by Kita, lounging on my suede sectional couch in a sheer, lacey black set, exactly how I wanted her. We had been kicking it for a month, and I couldn’t front; I liked having her around. She looked up at me, her eyes filled with adoration and just the right amount of submission, and I could tell she was ready to make this evening about us.

“Right where I left you,” I said with a grin, shedding my jacket and dropping it onto the arm of the couch. She had been staying at my spot for days, being my little slut, as long as I took care of her simple needs. Food and dick, and a little pocket change.

“Been waiting for you. The food came forty minutes ago,” she purred, running a finger along her collarbone.

Tonight, I had work to do before play. She’d have to wait.

“I know you have, baby. We’ll get to that,” I assured her, placing a hand on her ass as I headed toward my office space. “But first, I have calls to make. Let me handle some shit.”

She nodded obediently, giving me a smile that said she’d wait however long I needed. She was hooked on me, and that loyalty was going to serve me well.

I went into my study, closing the door behind me. The condo was a luxury spot I’d been keeping for a while, paid for in part by the money my mother had been secretly funneling me. She didn’t know about my plans, of course. She believed I’d stay in line and keep my distance from Damier since she told him he could kill me if I got too close, but that was a fantasy. Nothing would satisfy me until I was on top, not him.

I dialed Troy’s number. He picked up on the first ring.

“You still down for tonight? Or is you still laid up?” I asked, my voice low.

“Nah, I’m good to go. You got the details?” His voice was a mix of eagerness and anticipation.

“Warehouse off Broadway downtown. It’s one of his smaller operations, but it’ll send a message and put some money in our pocket.” I gave him the exact time and location, down to the minute that the place would be empty. “I’ll meet you there at midnight with the key. Make it clean and quick. My cousins only take a thirty-minute break.”

He chuckled. “Consider it done.”

The thought of one of Damier’s prized warehouses going down filled me with a sense of satisfaction. Start small, work up. That was my plan.

I hung up the phone and joined Kita back in the living room, grabbing a box of hot wings and fries from the coffee table. The scent filled the room, and I sank into the couch, easing back for the first time all day.

Kita curled up beside me, watching me eat with those devoted eyes of hers. She picked up a fry, playfully feeding it to me before stealing one for herself.

“So, are you going to tell me what had you so worked up today?” she asked, resting her head on my shoulder.

I smirked. “You know what I was doing. Handling family business, if you can call it that. You know I told you to step back and let me take control. I’m going to get that nigga.”

“Good,” she whispered, running her fingers along my chest, “because I know you will.”

Once the food was gone, she slipped into my lap, her eyes tracing my face with that look that said she’d do anything for me. Kita had become a reliable asset, someone who’d follow my orders without question, but tonight, something was different. She didn’t just look like an ally; she felt like mine. And I knew exactly what she wanted from me.

I leaned back, letting her take the lead, and before long, our mouths met in a slow, deliberate kiss. She slid down to her knees, moving with confidence but never losing that touch of submission I liked. For someone who was typically all business, I let go with her in a way I rarely did with anyone else.

“Damn,” I muttered, looking down at her going to work on my stick with her wet ass mouth. “You keep this up, and I might just get used to having you around.”

Her smile widened as she stroked me slowly with her hand, and I realized that with Kita on my side and a plan in motion, I was closer to my goal than ever.

$$$$$$

My head was pounding, but not from the liquor I had before blowing out Kita’s back and falling asleep.

The room was quiet, save for the soft hum of the fan overhead and Kita’s even breathing beside me. She lay sprawled out, her dark curls spilling over the pillow, blissfully asleep. I knew I should be, too, but my mind was running erratically, looping through old memories like a tape that kept skipping.

It was the dream again. The same one that hit me every night, gnawing at me more with each passing day I’d been off my meds.

I was back in my grandfather’s backyard, the sun hanging low in the sky, painting everything a sickly orange hue. I was a kid, just a boy of eight, sprinting around with Damier, weaving through the trees. We laughed―the high-pitched giggles of boys who didn’t know real pain yet.

But then, as I ran past, the scene shifted and darkened. I could still feel the crunch of dried leaves under my shoes and hear the soft whoosh of the wind rustling through the trees. And then… the dull thud of an ax.

“Stay back!” I heard someone yell, but the voice was muffled.

Our grandfather, nearly blind, was splitting logs as if we were nowhere nearby. He always swore his eyesight was still as sharp as ever, said he’d been splitting wood for years and wasn’t about to stop just because “a doctor told him to be careful.”

I darted around the backyard, glancing back over my shoulder to see Damier trailing me, grinning, unknowing. And then… that sound. The heavy, hollow sound of metal on bone.

My body froze in place.

All I felt was a sharp, splitting pain in my head and then blood. Blood down my face, warm and thick, streaming into my eyes. I staggered, blinking, as the world started spinning. The pain was all-consuming, a red haze swallowing my vision.

Through the haze, I could see Damier’s face, wide-eyed, frozen in horror. I wanted to scream, to tell him I was fine, but the words were strangled, stuck.

He dropped to his knees beside me, his voice breaking as he screamed for help. “Somebody help! Damian! Hold on!” His hands pressed to my head, trying to stop the blood, but it kept flowing, and I was slipping further into darkness, pain carving its way through me.

Then the laughter started. Not Damier’s, not my mother’s frantic sobs or my father’s shouts—but our grandfather’s laughter. Lost to his dementia, he didn’t even realize what he’d done. Didn’t see the way I crumbled beneath the ax. In his twisted mind, it was all a joke.

That fuckin’ laugh still echoed, stretching into a high-pitched ringing.

My eyes shot open, jolting me out of the dream, out of the past. My body was slick with sweat, my heart slamming against my ribs like a fist trying to escape. I tried to steady my breathing, but it came in shallow bursts, ragged and uneven.

Kita stirred next to me, but I kept silent. She didn’t know about the dreams, and this was why I preferred to sleep alone, but I liked Kita next to me. She didn’t know about the meds I’d ditched, the ones that kept me sane but numbed me to everything else. The meds had smoothed out the edges, dulled the colors, and made me feel like a shell of myself.

But now, everything was sharper. Vivid. Dangerous, just the way I liked it.

I slid out of bed, grabbed my phone, and crept to the bathroom, flicking on the cold water and splashing it over my face. I stared at my reflection in the mirror—tired eyes, a face too much like Damier’s staring back at me. Everyone always called me the reckless twin, the unpredictable one, but that’s only because they didn’t know what I’d been through. They hadn’t felt what I felt.

The clock on my phone blinked 11:30 p.m. I’d woken up just in time.

The nightmare had left me feeling restless, but I shook it off, ignoring the heaviness as I walked out of the bathroom. Kita was still asleep, her silhouette barely visible in the dim light, and I moved quietly, not wanting to wake her. She didn’t need to be with me, even though I knew she wanted to be involved.

The night was quiet as I got into my whip and drove through the empty streets of L.A. toward the industrial food district. Every darkened building and streetlight reflected in the windows, each glint and shadow dragging me back to my past with Damier. Once upon a time, he was my partner in crime—my only friend, really. As kids, we were inseparable. Even after the accident with our grandfather, he’d been there. I remembered how he and our mother visited me every weekend when I was stuck in that sterile hospital, healing after my grandfather nearly killed me.

Every damn weekend, just to keep me company. He’d bring comic books, music, anything he thought would take my mind off the headaches and the endless doctor appointments and surgeries. He did the same when I was locked in the hospital as an adult, battling my mental health. He came to visit me every weekend. He was a breath of fresh air until our pops died, and I was let free.

He started seeing me differently like I was something fragile, a project he had to keep safe and out of the limelight. And after that, his life skyrocketed. Damier’s business, his wealth, his influence—every single thing he had seemed like a reminder that he was leaving me behind. His success was a taunt, a glint in his eye that said he was better than me, stronger than me, and everyone knew it. But that was his mistake—thinking I’d stay on the sidelines.

I pulled up to the warehouse and parked at the edge of the lot, scanning the shadows. Midnight was the perfect time for this; the place was deserted, and I still had access to the camera feeds. I cut the feeds with a few taps on my phone and saw Troy’s black van already parked by the entrance, his guys waiting in dark clothes and ski masks. Troy looked up as I approached, his mouth curving into a tight grin.

“You ready?” he asked, his voice muffled through the mask.

I nodded, tossing him the key. “Let’s get to it. Cameras are off, so we’re clear.”

The warehouse door swung open with a creak, and we stepped inside, greeted by rows of shelves stocked with designer clothes, counterfeit cash, and stacks of neatly packed drug bricks. Damier was as meticulous with his illegal operations as he was with his legitimate empire. The thought made me smirk as Troy’s guys got to work, efficiently clearing the shelves.

Watching them tear through his stash, packing up everything worth a damn, I felt a rush of satisfaction. Here was my brother’s empire, picked apart piece by piece. A million dollars worth of drugs, cash, and high-end goods—all slipping through his fingers without him even knowing it.

“Make it quick,” I said, watching as Troy’s team loaded the last bags into the van. “My uncles will be back soon.”

Troy clapped me on the shoulder as he walked past. “Don’t trip, my nigga. We’ll get this moved, and your cut will be ready by the end of the week.”

I reached into one of the bags, pulled out a couple bricks of coke and a handful of Ecstasy pills, and shoved them into my hoodie.

The job was done, so I stepped back out into the cold night, watching as the van’s taillights disappeared down the street, fading into the distance. Everything had gone smoothly, and I couldn’t shake the twisted satisfaction settling in my chest.

By the time I got back to my condo, Kita was up waiting for me, dressed in one of my shirts, her eyes lighting up as I walked through the door.

“Well?” she asked, a sly grin playing at her lips. “Did you handle it?”

I held up the brick of cocaine and the pills, smirking. “More than handled it. And now you’re gonna sell these at yo’ new job at Club Gemini.”

Her eyes widened, the smile flickering. “What am I now, some kind of drug dealer?”

I stepped closer, locking my gaze with hers, my voice low. “If you want to stay around me, yeah. I need someone I can trust. Someone who knows how to keep her mouth shut.”

The joke faded from her face as she stared at me, realizing I was dead serious.

Kita’s playful smile turned intrigued as she held my gaze, fully locked into the energy of my plan.

“A’ight,” she said, a slight grin tugging at the corner of her lips. “You want me to move it? I’ll move it. Just didn’t think I’d be needing a side job.”

I stepped closer, watching her reaction carefully. “This is more than just a side job, Kita. I need people around me who are all in, ready for whatever. You say you're my bitch, then prove it.”

She raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “You really think I’d back down now?” She held the brick up with a smirk. “You should know me better than that. Besides, it’s your brother who’ll be caught off guard. He’s about to learn that ain’t nobody sitting around waiting to get money from him.”

I chuckled, satisfied. “Good. First, you keep it under wraps—nobody’s to know you’re working with me. Move it slowly to your friends. Get a feel for what the city wants.”

She nodded, that familiar fire sparking in her eyes. “And here I thought you’d keep me in the dark. Nice to know you’re finally letting me in.”

I pulled her in close, our faces just inches apart. “Trust goes both ways, Kita. You show me you’re serious, and we’ll get this city in our hands. One move at a time.”

She pressed her lips against mine with a sly smile, her confidence solidifying. I kissed her, both of us feeding off the energy in the air, the plan set in motion. Damier thought he’d locked me out of his life for good, but I’d spent enough time on the sidelines—and now, it was our turn.