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It wasn’t like the twins were similar, they had things that separated them, but both Corleon and Capri had their own vibe about them that was different from their brothers.

“What up, Doc?”

I nodded. “This shit fucking nice… this you?”

He chuckled and nodded for me to follow him. “Yeah… been here for almost two years… took three years to build.”

“Why the fuck are you in the middle of nowhere?”

Corleon spooned cereal into his mouth. “Like my privacy…. You thirsty or some shit?”

“I’m good.”

I followed him through his house, and from the foyer, you could see the back terrace.

It was sprawling with lounge chairs scattered like it was a resort instead of someone’s personal home.

A black tiled infinity pool shimmered near the edge, daring the trees and mountains to compete with its beauty.

The backyard screamed opulence, and from the way he just walked around in sweats and no shirt while eating cereal out a paper bowl, you wouldn’t know he was the damn owner.

I was normally comfortable everywhere I went, but a nigga was feeling out of place. The marble floors, expensive art that donned the walls, and the sculptures told me he put time and care into this home.

This was his vision, and it was well put together.

Everything had a strategic space, and he had designed it to be so.

Even with it being massive, it still had this homey feeling that you didn’t usually get when it came to homes as big as his.

The digital pictures of his family switched every so often and went to an older picture of a woman, whom I assumed was his adoptive mother.

Then the picture switched to a picture of Des and Jean.

Jean looked exactly like Capri, while Des mirrored all three of his sons, while they were standing in front of an old school BMW. I heard the stories of Des back in the day, and how he and Papa handled shit back then.

“Why you looking around all amazed and shit like you broke?”

I snorted. “Money is always good, but it ain’t this damn good.”

He laughed as we headed down a long hall before coming up on a flight of stairs. We took them down, and I noticed that you could still access a different part of the backyard from the basement of the home.

Before we could fully enter the basement, there was a glass double door that prevented our access. Core paused and turned to look at me for a second before I realized why he was staring at me.

“The fuck? You think I’m gonna break into your shit?”

He continued to stare at me while he held the bowl with one hand.

I was lowkey offended that he waited for me to turn away before he put the code in.

I turned around once I heard the chime, and we entered the basement.

He made sure he closed the door back and that’s when I thought I was losing my mind.

“Hoe, is you a fucking wizard?” I nearly screamed, trying to understand what the fuck just happened. How the fuck did we come through this door, and everything was completely different? I felt like I stepped into a Granger novel with a talking cat named Quan.

When we came down the steps, you saw a simple lavish living area that was meant for a second family space. From the stairs, you could see a tennis court and the doors that led you to the backyard and the rest of the property.

The minute I stepped through the doors, that wasn’t what I saw at all. There were huge windows with a view of Singapore, and computer monitors everywhere. It was like watching the world from a home basement.

“Relax… it’s a simulation. I can make the view be whatever I wanna see… was feeling like Singapore today. Capri tells me that it’s beautiful there.” He laughed as he sat in one of the computer chairs. “Plus, my boo told me that all this shit has to be off limits for my daughter.”

“You have a daughter?” Why was I learning all this shit about Corleon now?

The leather chair with the high back comforted his body as he sat the empty bowl on the desk. “Yeah… Estella. How the fuck you in her home and don’t know her name?”

“Well, where the fuck is she? House seemed empty as fuck when we were upstairs.” I was becoming even more confused the more I stood here.

The fact that we were somewhere in Jersey, and I felt like I was in a high rise in Singapore was tripping me out, and I wasn’t someone that was easily fucked with.

“Not important… it’s clear you got some shit on your mind… what’s up?” He got more comfortable in his chair and watched me.

“The fuck is all of this?”

“I don’t know why you surprised… I fucking hack and you didn’t think I had a set up…. Now, tell me the real reason you here.”

I walked around slowly, watching the different monitors that showed different street cameras within the city. How in the fuck was I looking at the inside of the Holland tunnel and the traffic on the Verrazano bridge at the same time?

“You can pull up any camera in the city?”

“Uh huh.”

“Any address or location?” I continued to probe.

“Not about to pull up the cameras on some chick you fucking with, Hassan,” he yawned, leaning his head back in the chair.

Her fine ass was probably at work anyway, so I ain’t even have to worry about pulling up on her electronically. “How does one even learn this shit?”

“A lot of time and patience… You made contact with him… what is your next step, Hassan? Been over at that man’s house twice for dinner.” I wasn’t surprised that he already knew what I was up to.

I continued to take everything in, making note of the whole display of guns he had. “Is it wrong to move slow, not act on my impulse to snap his neck? He has to pay for the shit that he has done.”

“I agree.”

I quickly turned around to see him messing in his beard while watching me. “Then why the fuck you asking what my next step is?”

“How you gonna do it, Hassan?”

I shrugged and sat in the second chair next to his. “I don’t know… do it while Sam is out with her friends for dinner… maybe she finds him. All I know is that he has to die.”

Corleon lightly laughed.

“The fuck is so funny?”

“Calling that bitch Sam like you know her. Killing him does nothing… just covers up what he has done. You can easily slip in his condo and kill him, but what happens after that? Who lets the public know that their precious surgeon general is a fucking child molester… feel me?”

“I’m not thinking about all of that. I want to make sure he never does that shit to another child again.”

“Usually, I’m on the side of making sure a nigga’s entire existence is wiped from the earth, but I feel like he needs to have his fifteen minutes of fame first.”

Menace Caselli came around the corner, and I nodded my head. He looked at me before avoiding eye contact with me. “What up, Menace?”

I felt like I was meeting a ghost with the way this man was never seen around. Corleon continued to mess with his beard. “You have to reveal the monster that he is…we can put those plans in motion for you… just give us the word to make that happen.”

Corleon’s hands were itching to reveal the monster that Mercer was. He wanted this man to pay as much as I did, and I knew it hurt ten times more because he had a child. A child that I had yet to see running around this bitch.

A child, nonetheless.

Quasim had done so much for me and everyone that surrounded him.

This was something that I wanted to handle for him and deliver it to him on a silver platter.

He had other pressing shit to worry about, and if I could handle this for him, I knew it would be a step in the right direction so Elijah could heal with his parents.

He almost lost his life, his focus needed to be on his wife and kids. They were going to welcome a new child into this world. This was the last thing that they needed on their plates, and if I could handle this for them, then I would.

“I want you to make that happen… tell me how we can make it happen? Mercer trying to ease me into working for him. I can do a lot of shit, but I cannot do no shit like that. Goes against everything I believe in.”

“Charity gala I’m attending for children with crooked mouths.” Menace replied, looking past me.

I noticed since he had come around that corner that he hadn’t made any eye contact with me.

As a doctor, giving eye contact was part of the job.

My patients wanted to feel confident with me having their lives in my hands, and how would that look if I couldn’t maintain eye contact while explaining a procedure or their diagnosis?

When you had someone’s life in your hands, the one thing they wanted was fucking eye contact.

“Cleft palates, nigga,” Corleon corrected him.

He didn’t look phased by being corrected by his best friend and continued.

“That charity shit happens every year, and I usually send a big ass check. If there is a promise of some entertainment, I’ll deliver that fucking check in person.

Plus, I know your sister is going to be there…

she’s district attorney now, so she’s invited to all these stuffy ass bullshit events.

My own sister will be there, too, with her lobster and pasta nigga man she messing with. ”

“Huh?”

“Nothing. Maroon showed me some video.” He muttered.

“If there is one thing I have learned… there’s always something.

Niggas always like to have some kind of proof of the sick shit they do.

You got me close to that computer which proved to have a bunch of nothing on it.

Family pictures and important other shit…

nothing I need. Give me some time to gather that shit together…

He has a conference and party honoring him in Ashbourne this weekend.

Apparently, he was born and raised there.

I got tickets for me and my wives to attend. ”

Menace smirked. “Sick fucking bitch… should fucking wrap his tongue around his fucking neck.”

I watched as this man disassociated in front of me while he spoke about what should have happened to Mercer. Although I agreed, the way he spoke let me know that he was down to prove his theory.

“He’s not letting me near any other computer… how else do you think you’re going to get any other laptop that he has?”

“You said my best friend is a dumb fucking bitch?” Menace questioned me.

I looked at Corleon and this nigga raised his eyebrow for me to answer. “That shit didn’t even leave my mouth.”

“Sounds like it, Mens.”

I looked between both of them and made the connection as to why they were best friends. Both of them were crazy as hell. “You think they going to let Quasim fly back to Barbados… seems to be the plan.”

As much as Papa wanted to get his son out of America and away, that shit wouldn’t happen.

Ramos was nervous about having to tell them that he wouldn’t approve him to fly.

He had a collapsed lung among other issues.

I understood why he didn’t want him to fly and respected his decision. Now, would Papa agree?

Who the fuck knew?

“You both bugging the fuck out.”

Menace looked down at his hands, and then back at me briefly. “Think he should lay low in Ashbourne. I have a shore house there, and it’s out the way. Nothing goes on without Teflon knowing about that shit… safest place for him to go right now to recover. Baby Bop is pregnant, too, right?”

Me and Corleon both looked at Menace as he stared between us, confused, with a serious expression on his face. “Her name is fucking Blair, Menace!”

I couldn’t help but to laugh because he never seemed phased whenever Corleon constantly corrected his ass. “I know how pregnant women can get.”

“Very hormonal… they need a lot of support and low stress.”

He screwed his face up. “You said you wanna fuck the stress out my wife?”

Menace Caselli was scary without even trying to be. I wasn’t pussy, but those damn eyes were why his name was Menace.

They were wild.

Menacing.

And fucking scary because you could see the minute the nigga started to disassociate. I looked at Corleon, who seemed to be his handler for this minute. “I mean, you did say that I was stupid.”

“Corleon, be serious.”

“He is.”

My phone chimed and I saw a message from Mercer asking how I was doing, which meant he wanted to talk about the shit I had been avoiding. I wasn’t about to sit and talk about working in that house of horrors while he collected money and abused children.

“Mercer just texted me.”

“Give me some time to get shit right and continue to play nice. I’ll package this shit up real nicely for you.”

“Heard you.”

“See you when I get home, Wonder.” Meance spoke lowly into the phone before making a kissy puckering sound. “Yeah… you felt it? You know exactly where I sent that kiss, Wanda.”

I never met his wife, but the fact that he turned into a completely different man just from talking to her told me she had to be special.

I stuck around while Corleon gave me the tour of his massive ass house, and his bedroom that had a bed fit for three. When Jean came from the kitchen and asked if I was eating, he nearly had to peel me from his crib because I went from getting a tour to busting down food.