Page 108 of Perfect Rhythm

The door to the studio flung open, and before I could see who walked in, I felt the energy shift.

“Yo, what’s going on in here?” Enzo shouted, downing champagne straight from the bottle. “Why is it so damn quiet? Where the fuck is the music?”

“Look who it is. What’s up, big bro?” Mecca said, getting up and dapping Enzo with a quick side hug. “Didn’t think I’d catch you in here tonight.”

“Yeah, well, you know I had to slide through once I heard you were in the building.” He grinned. “Oh, and I got a little treat coming for you too.” He looked back at his security guard. “Aye, Crank, call them bitches we saw earlier and tell them to come up here.”

That’s my cue.

I stood up and gave Mecca a nod. “I’m out.”

“So soon?” Enzo questioned while placing his hand on my shoulder.

“Get your hand off me before I break that bitch.”

He lifted his hand and stepped back. “You know, one day we’re going to have to squash this beef between us.”

“I’m not squashing shit.”

“Well, I think you should reconsider.” He shrugged. “Especially since we’re practically family now.”

I frowned. “What the fuck are you talking about? We don’t share blood nigga.”

“Not yet. But if your little sister keeps kicking it with my nephew, that may change one day.” A smile spread across his face. “I saw the two of them on their date last night. I must say, my nephew has good taste.”

Before I could catch myself, Enzo’s shirt was clenched between my fist, and I’d slammed his bitch ass into the wall. “I thought I told you to stay the fuck away from my sister.”

“Well, in my defense, I didn’t go near her. My nephew showed her off to me at the restaurant thatIown.”

“I don’t give a fuck what he did.”

“Yo, Shade, chill,” Mecca pleaded behind me, his voice tight.

“You heard your boy,” Enzo said, his smug tone making me squeeze tighter.

“Fuck that nigga. I’m talking to you.”

Enzo’s eyes darted over to Crank, and the sharp click of a gun being cocked echoed in my ears.

But Trace wasn’t far behind.

He returned the gesture, cool and calculated. The only difference? He locked the door behind him, preparing for war.

“If this is what we’re doing,” Trace spoke, “I hope everyone’s shit is fully loaded. Otherwise, your ass is dying in this bitch today.”

“Yo, let’s not do this,” Mecca begged again. “It’s not even worth it.”

I didn’t move. “Fool, my sister is always worth it. If losing my life means taking this hoe ass nigga off the market, I’m with it.”

“Yeah, but I’m not,” Mecca shot back, sounding like a bitch. He got like that after smoking for too long. “I’ve got fucking plans, and don’t none of that shit include dying in this damn studio. A nigga was just trying to make a little music.”

Ignoring him, I tilted my head while glaring at Enzo. “So, what’s up? Are you accepting the second chance this fool is trying to give you? Or are you taking your last breath tonight?”

Trace moved in closer and pressed his gun against Enzo’s temple, not giving a damn about his security. “Answer wisely motherfucker.”

Enzo let out a heavy breath. “Fine, you don’t want me to talk about your sister, I won’t talk about your sister.”

“Wrong answer,” Trace replied and pushed the gun against his head a little more. “You got one more try, and you better get the shit right this time.”