Page 24

I turned to head out, but told address Keondra again, “There’s security posted outside.

If you need anything, call Carmen… Dique will give you the number…

but don’t be callin’ Dique with no drama.

That man tryin’ to do right.” I advised her, daring that she play with me.

As I left the house, I glanced back one time and Keondra was standing in the middle of the polished kitchen with her car keys in her hand, and for the first time…

she looked like she believed she was worth something.

The same look we all had when we finally got out of the hood.

Now that this mission was accomplished, it was time to get up out of there.

By the time I got back to the penthouse, my body was begging me to lay the fuck down.

My chest felt heavy, my head was pounding, and every joint in my body ached like I just stepped out of a chain gang fight which, truthfully, I had…

just in the streets. But being sick? That shit didn’t me and it never had.

The chef had already left for the night, but he made sure to leave the pot of the Pepper soup or like most called it, the Soup Joumou on the stove.

I sat at the marble counter in silence, with my hoodie still on, with my socks still on, sipping slow out the bowl like an old ass man.

The TV was off, but my phone was steady buzzing with updates.

All of the updates were security updates, shipment confirmations, and coded cartel communications from all coasts from the east, south, and west. Every hitta was clocked in and every camera angle covered them all.

I got a few more notifications that Miami, Atlanta, L.A.

, even New York was all locked in, ready to light up if needed.

El Blanca had already taken too many L’s, and my hittas were on standby waiting for the word if needed but even with the empire moving smooth right now, I couldn’t shake the pressure behind my eyes or the burn in my throat.

The only thing that distracted me was Carmen calling me right on time.

I instantly picked up in a low and gritty voice. “How you feelin’?” I asked.

“This morning, I couldn’t even keep down ginger ale.

” She explained sounding weak, and I wasn’t used to it.

I actually felt bad for her. She only felt like this because of a seed that I planted in her.

Had any other female claimed that they were carrying my child, they’d have to prove it, but I knew I didn’t have to question Carmen.

“I’ve been throwing up all damn day,” she said.

I closed my eyes, leaned back on the stool trying to ignore my own issues over here. “You want me to come over?”

“No,” she whispered. “I think you’re sick too. You sound like shit.”

I nodded my head. “Appreciate it,” I said, through the congestion.

She knew I felt like shit, but I still would’ve come if she needed me to.

I coughed a few times and got up to fix some Theraflu.

Since I had been the king of Miami, I never had to do this kind of shit for myself because somebody on my payroll was always around to make sure I didn’t have to, but taking care of myself right now gave me a sense of normalcy and fuckin’ peace.

She chuckled, soft and sexy, but I could tell she was trying to keep it together.

If I could I wanted to be there to do whatever she needed me to do even if it was just to rub her back.

I didn’t want to miss shit. I didn’t care if it was just sitting on her bed, just being there.

At the same time, I couldn’t risk passing on whatever the fuck I had right now…

not with how fragile she seemed right now and definitely not with that baby she was carrying.

“I miss you,” she said softly.

“Yeah, I know,” I replied. “I miss you too.” I told her being honest. Had I not missed her, I wouldn’t even tell her. One thing Carmen knew about me was I wasn’t in the business of lying to no female, I didn’t care who it was.

When we hung up, and I just sat there with my fingers over my mouth staring towards the balcony.

I ain’t never been scared of shit, not bullets, not somebody betraying me, and damn sho’ not death but Carmen, that baby, and this life?

That shit scared the fuck out of me. A knock at the door broke my thoughts.

It wasn’t that easy getting up here, so I knew it had to be one of my people.

I checked the security camera and saw Tone.

He stepped inside looking like his usual self and well rested.

Tone had on a big ass chain with a medallion hanging from it, his golds was glistening, and a chunky Cuban bracelet was on his wrist. Nigga looked like a linebacker in designer, but I could tell the past few days off was what he needed even if Shona was over there working his ass. He dapped me up like always.

“You look like shit,” he said, flashing his teeth.

“And you look like a retired trap nigga turned soon-to-be daddy,” I shot back. “The fuck you doin’ here? I thought you was on early maternity leave.”

We both laughed, and it was the kind that came from exhaustion more than joy, but it was real. He pulled out a bottle of D’usse from my cabinet like it was his house, poured up two shots and handed me one. “What’s up, bro?”

I hesitated thinking about if I wanted to tell him about Carmen, but this was Tone, my fuckin’ brother, my right-hand man, and somebody who I knew would take a bullet for me. When he found out about Shona, he talked to me like a man, now it was my turn. “Carmen pregnant.”

Tone blinked a few times and just stared at me.

He knew how strongly I felt about not wanting no kids, which was the same reason he never wanted none.

“Damn.” He sighed and ran both his hands over the top of his head.

He immediately poured another two shots, and we dogged them just as quick as the first.

“Yeah.” I told him, appreciating the burn as the liquor went down.

“You tell anybody else?”

“Hell nah. You the first. I want to give Carmen that space to announce her own pregnancy when she’s ready. I don’t feel like it’s my place… I gotta give her that.”

He sat down across from me, with both elbows on the table, looking like he was carrying the weight of the world too.

“Ain’t gon’ lie, bro. This shit we livin’?

It ain’t made for peace. Every time I look at Shona’s belly, I wonder if I’m gon’ be around to see that baby turn one.

This is why I made you promise that if anything happens to me, please be the step-up daddy to my kid man, which I know you would, but still… shit is terrifying than a muhfucka.”

That hit me in the chest ‘cause Tone was never soft, but he was always real and everything he said was the truth. “I feel the same,” I admitted. “It’s like, damn, how do I protect what I love when the world tryin’ to kill me every fuckin’ day?”

Tone nodded. “You don’t… you just be the type of man they’ll always remember, and you go harder for them than you ever did for the streets.”

That shit sat with me heavy as his words echoed through my mind. He poured up again and this time we clinked glasses and downed the shots. The liquor may have burned, but not harder than the fuckin’ truth. “I hear you man, I hear you.”

Tone scratched his head like he was thinking about saying something else or maybe trying to see how to word it. “Yo, maybe we should’ve got neutered and shit, then we wouldn’t be in trouble with our dicks now.”

I gave Tone a hard look and shook my head. My head was pounding too heavy to laugh at this nigga right now. “You mean a vasectomy? We ain’t no fuckin’ dogs.”

“Says who?” He shot back with the jokes and shit.

I simply shook my head. It was good having Tone around.

I felt like I was about to die before he walked in, taking my mind off the flu.

A few seconds later and my phone was buzzing once again.

This time it was one of my people posted outside Victoria’s new condo, just confirming her security was set and the cameras were active with eyes on every angle and no blind spots.

I texted back a simple reply: Good. Keep her close.

After that, Tone left and I slumped back on the couch, with my head still heavy.

My empire was in motion. My family was expanding, and my city still belonged to me.

However, deep down, I knew everything was changing, and I wasn’t ready for some of them, but I’d be damn if I didn’t protect what was mine, no matter how much I wasn’t ready.