Page 57

RIOT

Steam curled from my mug, but it didn’t do shit to thaw the rage sitting in my chest. I was still pissed and worried about Rollo.

And now that I knew that my brother was the one plotting against me, I was out of control.

I couldn’t wait to kill that worthless piece of shit.

And now that we had those laptops, I was gonna find out more information and get to him before he could do further damage.

I sat at the dining table, the first laptop open in front of me. Creed sat across from me, arms folded staring at the back of the computer with a tired glare. He’d gotten up early this morning so that we could get to the bottom of this.

Finally, I had managed to crack one of the laptops. It belonged to someone named Mimi Jackson. That must’ve been his lil girlfriend or some shit. He never brought anyone around us and I never cared to dig into his business. Nigga, always been a little weird.

But there she was right there in front of me. I had access to the Apple ID, the email trail, the backup files. Everything she ever saved, screenshotted, or typed lived in that machine like a graveyard of bad decisions.

Photos. Notes. Shopping receipts. Fake names. Voice memos.

But what stopped me cold were the iMessage threads.

I was scrolling out of habit until I saw it:

Mimi: I need you to help avenge my sister. Malia and her child would still be alive if it weren’t for him.

Havoc: I got you babe. I swear.

My stomach dropped.

For a moment, the screen blurred. Not from sleep deprivation, just rage. Old, jagged, unprocessed rage.

That name.

Malia.

I sat back slowly, heartbeat thudding like war drums in my ears. It wasn’t random. This wasn’t just some twisted coincidence.

Mimi wasn’t just Havoc’s girl.

She was Malia’s sister. He had let this bitch get in his head and convinced him to turn his back on his brothers. I was steaming. But fuck! I always knew that shit with Malia would come back to haunt me. Is this why I had been dreaming of her so much lately.

The air shifted around me, like the house knew something had cracked wide open.

Across from me, Creed leaned forward, sensing it. “You find something?”

I nodded, but it took me a second to speak. My mouth was dry, the words tangled in disbelief.

“He’s been planning all of this shit for a very long time,” I said, barely above a whisper.

Creed narrowed his eyes. “Who?”

“Havoc.” I turned the screen so he could read it for himself.

“He’s been planning this for years. Mimi…

she’s Malia’s little sister. They’ve been plotting.

This whole thing…it’s revenge,” I said as I scrolled the messages of them feeding into one another’s anger and rage against me, Creed, my mother and my father.

Creed’s face tightened as he scanned the messages. “Jesus.”

“Yeah,” I said. “He’s been playin’ the long game. She fed his grudge ‘til it bloomed into this full-blown war.”

My hands curled into fists on the tabletop.

Everything suddenly made sense. I could always tell Havoc had issues with me.

I knew he was jealous but I didn’t know it was this bad.

He would’ve gotten his fair share of the empire if he stepped up to the plate.

But he was always weak, so we kept him in check.

“We haven’t always treated him fairly,” Creed admitted.

“What more could we have done? He has money. A top position at the company. He has shares. If he showed leadership qualities he could have so much more.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know. He was pissed about not knowing about Silas…” Creed started.

“Nigga, may I remind you I was pissed too. You kept that a secret from me too but I ain’t try to kill you! The fuck. I’m loyal to this family. I would never do something to harm you or anyone in it. Hell, even him.”

“Yeah, but somehow a monster was created.”

“And I’mma kill it.”

I closed the laptop. Reached for the second one.

Just as I leaned in, my phone buzzed.

It was an unknown number.

Creed and I locked eyes. My hand hovered. Gut clenched. I hit answer. Put it on speaker.

Static.

Then a voice.

Silky. Familiar. Venomous.

“Big Bro!” Havoc drawled. “Heard you paid me a visit.”

Creed stood up slow, pulling his gun from his waistband. Pacing. Jaw flexed.

“You broke into my spot. Stole my shit,” Havoc went on, like we were catching up over drinks. “ Tsk. Not very brotherly of you.”

“Where’s Rollo?” I asked, voice flat. Controlled. Barely.

A pause.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Then we heard it.

A scream. Muffled. Strained. Female.

I recognized the voice of my mother.

I shot to my feet so fast the chair toppled behind me. “Where the fuck are you?!”

Havoc didn’t answer right away. I could hear his breathing. Calm. Mocking.

“I’m just visiting some old family in Jersey. Auntie Madeira’s been such a gracious host. Mama Tessa too. Thought I’d stay awhile.”

Creed’s hand slammed the table, rattling the laptop. “He’s at your estate.”

My vision went white around the edges. My mouth was dry. My chest felt like it was cracking open from the inside.

He had my mother.

That woman had already been through enough.

I grabbed my gun. Keys. Rage.

“Let’s go,” I said.

Creed was already at the door, loading his clip, eyes wild and focused.

No more guessing. No more mercy.

Havoc had made his move.

Now I was gonna make mine.

And this time?

I wasn’t leaving any part of him breathing.

The drive to Jersey was a blur of adrenaline and fury. Creed sat in the passenger seat, one hand on his pistol, jaw locked so tight I swore I could hear his teeth grind. Neither of us spoke. There was nothing to say that wouldn’t set the other off.

Havoc had crossed way too many lines.

He’d gone beyond revenge and betrayal. Now he had my mother. I can’t believe I’ve been so many steps behind.

But this nigga had stepped onto holy ground and pissed on everything sacred.

My estate gates were wide open when we arrived. That alone made my stomach drop.

Creed jumped out the second we stopped, gun drawn. I was right behind him, Glock in hand, heart thundering. The main door wasn’t just unlocked, it was cracked open like an invitation to hell.

And that’s when I saw her.

Madeira.

Sprawled out across the marble foyer. Eyes open. Lifeless. A smear of blood behind her skull. One hand still clutching the hem of her apron like she died trying to fight. Trying to run. Trying to protect my mother.

Creed knelt beside her like the air had been ripped from his chest. “Damn. Auntie…”

He checked her pulse even though we both knew that she was gone. It was too late. Havoc didn’t know when to quit.

My heart split open at the sight of it. But I couldn’t break. Not now. Madeira was my heart and he ripped that away from me.

I turned away, bile burning the back of my throat, and stormed deeper into the house.

We moved silently down the hall towards the family room, until I heard her voice.

Screaming.

“Kill him!” she shouted, voice raw and desperate. “I’m dying anyway! Shoot that fake-ass King and end this!”

I burst into the room firs, gun raised, body tense, ready.

And there he was.

Havoc.

Smiling like a fucking lunatic, with my mother pinned to a chair and a gun to her temple.

Creed came in right behind me, eyes bloodshot, trembling with fury.

“Don’t move,” Havoc warned, waving the barrel between us. “You shoot, she dies.”

“She’s already dying,” I growled, keeping my weapon trained on him. “Or did you forget you poisoned her?”

That smile faltered. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“The lead,” I spat. “You’ve been slipping it to her. Slowly. Like a coward.”

He scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself. If I wanted her dead, I wouldn’t take the long way around. But listen, I’ll walk away from y’all and all of this. I want $20 million in cash and to not be hunted. That’s all. And you’ll never hear from me again.”

“Nigga please,” I scoffed.

“You expect us to believe that?” Creed snapped, his voice shaking. “After what all the other shit you’ve been doing?”

Havoc’s eyes flicked to Creed, then back to me. “I ain’t poison this bitch. I was about to leave her out of all of this even though she deserves it.”

“Liar,” Creed hissed.

Tessa was still snarling, spitting fire from the chair. “You think this makes you a man? You think Silas would’ve been proud of this?” My mother was out of her mind. I knew it was the cancer and lead poising but none of us cared whether Silas would’ve been proud of us.

But then his mask cracked.

He looked down at her like he might cry. Like there was still something human under all that rage.

“Silas,” he said, the name sour in his mouth. “That bastard raped me.”

The air left the room.

Creed froze.

Even my hand dropped an inch.

But Tessa? Tessa just laughed. Low and cold.

“Because you’re a bitch.”

And that was it.

Havoc’s face twisted. He didn’t think. He didn’t aim.

He just pulled the trigger.

The sound shattered the world.

Tessa’s body jolted. Blood splattered across the antique chair. Her head slumped forward. Her eyes didn’t close.

“NO!” I roared—and shot.

Two rounds.

Right between his eyes.

He hit the floor like a rag doll. Limp. Soulless. Gone.

“FUCK!”

I screamed it, punched the wall until my knuckles split open. Creed just stood there, staring at Tessa’s body like his brain couldn’t catch up.

Our mother was gone.

Madeira was gone.

And Rollo?

Rollo was still missing—no, not missing. We knew. Deep down, we both knew.

He was gone, too.

Creed finally spoke, voice low, hoarse. “We’ll find his body.”

I couldn’t answer. My mouth worked, but nothing came out.

I had nothing left to say.

Just blood on my hands… and a multiple graves to dig.

We had to clean this shit up, but my mind wasn’t right. Couldn’t think straight. Havoc’s confession had me twisted. For years, we thought Silas was only touching strangers. But that sick motherfucker poisoned his own blood. His own fuckin’ son.

And yeah, I hated Havoc. Still do. But in that moment? I felt sorry for him. Real sorry.

Silas ruined all of us, but he ruined Havoc the worst. That boy never stood a fuckin’ chance.

He was broken before he ever got to breathe.

And now look, Madeira’s gone. My mother’s gone. Rollo’s probably gone. And it all traces back to that sick bastard and the shit he did in the dark.

Everything dead in this house?

Silas killed it first.

His ghost still got us being puppets on his phantom strings, making us bleed, making us bury each other one by one.

When the fuck does it stop?

When the hell do we get free?