Page 12 of The Millionaire Mortician

A few days slid by fast as shit, and business moved along quickly. Still, in the middle of it all, I couldn’t shake how I did Daija.

She had been talking about how she needed a night where it was just the two of us.

Since we were both business owners now, she felt we had to put aside quality time for just us and do different things like date nights, staycations, and trips.

I agreed, but the first crack at it was a failure.

It wasn’t because I ain’t care, or not because I ain’t want to, though.

The truth was, once Mallo made that call about meeting the connect, that turned into tunnel vision, and everything else vanished from my mind. I didn’t even remember the dinner date until I got out of the meeting and powered my phones back on. Maverick even got calls and text messages from her.

Although it wasn’t intentional, that didn’t matter. The mistake was mine. I made a mental note to make things up to her. She deserved it and more. However, right at that moment, the streets needed me too.

The deal with Don Rafael was official. Maverick and I weren’t just playing the middlemen anymore. We were distributors. The northeast was ours to feed, and if somebody were hungry, we’d make it so they had to eat from our plate or starve.

We started calling meetings almost immediately.

Some were with old associates, others with crews we had never broke bread with before, while some were with rivals that we may have had some small-time beefs that never turned into real wars.

Either way, it was time to sit down face-to-face and put things in place.

The one area I knew was gon’ be tricky but was imperative to get was in Bed-Stuy.

They were a crew we had history with since Milan and I were young niggas growing up in the Stuy.

They had been eating off Frost’s line for a while, but that didn’t stop us from reaching out.

My thing was that if we didn’t try, we had already lost. A closed mouth doesn’t get fed.

Maverick and I pulled up to a brownstone off Marcus Garvey. Two of their soldiers were outside, leaning against the gate, watching us heavy as Don parked. I kept my hands visible, calm as always, while Maverick gave them a nod. They frisked us quickly, then waved us inside.

The place was dim, smelling of loud and Henny. About ten of them sat scattered around the room, some on couches, while others stood. The boss, a dude named Reese, sat in the center, gold teeth flashing when he smiled.

“Well, well, it’s the Marcano Twins,” he stated, grinning like he had a joke loaded. “I ain’t think y’all would pull up.”

There was a seat across from him. I sat down while Maverick stood beside me.

“We ain’t here for the back-and-forth. We’re here cause we just stepped up the ladder. We’re the new distro for our connect for the northeast.”

One of his younger soldiers scoffed. “We already gettin’ work. Frost keeps us good.”

I turned my head slightly, eyeing the young nigga. “Then keep eatin’, but what we got ain’t what Frost got. What we got is cleaner and purer. There would be no droughts or excuses. Just weight when you need it.”

Reese leaned back, still smiling, but I could see him thinking. “So what, you expect me to turn my back on Frost just like that?”

Maverick stepped up. “Ain’t nobody tellin’ you to turn your back.

We’re tellin’ you to get money. That’s all we’ve ever been about.

We ain’t into that stupid beef or any petty shit, just straight getting to the cheese.

You wanna stay loyal to Frost, cool. Just know loyalty don’t keep your people fed.

Numbers do,” he schooled with his voice sharper than mine, giving the same energy that was being offered.

Reese tilted his head. “And what’s your numbers lookin’ like?”

Mav smirked, lowering his tone just enough to make it sound like a secret. “Better than his. We undercut, and you still come out on top. There’s no middleman or extra hands in the pot. It’ll come straight from us.”

The room went quiet, but that didn’t bother me. Sometimes silence spoke louder than words. I could tell Reese was really leaning our way.

Reese broke into another grin, this one less playful, more respectful. “Y’all really ain’t with the old beef?”

I shook my head once. “We never was, my guy. That was just street noise. We past that now. You want to war, you can call Frost. You want to win, you can call us.”

He stared at me, then at Maverick, then back at me. After a long moment, he nodded. “Aight. I’ll take a sample. Small weight first. See if what y’all say matches the product.”

“That’s fair,” I agreed in a calm manner.

We stood and shook hands. His grip was firm, but mine was firmer. It wasn’t aggressive. It was just enough to remind him what type of men we were.

Walking out of the brownstone, Maverick was grinning. “Told you. Lower numbers always get ‘em.”

I slid my hands into my pockets, eyes scanning the block. “We don’t sell ourselves cheap. We sell ourselves smart.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Same shit, nigga.”

“Nah, the difference is,” I stated as we got to the truck, “smart lasts longer.”

“Where to?” Don inquired.

“Yeah, whatever, nigga.” Mav looked at me. “Back to the dealership,” he instructed Don.

As we pulled off, I felt lighter walking away from that meeting. Bed-Stuy was added to the list. It was one less rival and one more client.

I couldn’t help but think about Daija again. If I could make moves in the streets, I damn sure could make the right move with her. She deserved that same energy. And soon, I’d give it to her.

The dealership and funeral home offices had become our second homes as of late.

Maverick and I stretched out in the leather chairs while paperwork was scattered across his desk.

Business had been running smoothly, smoother than I expected for the first week.

We played no games as we hit the ground running.

Calls were made, and meetings were held. Now it was just a matter of waiting.

The first shipment from Don Rafael was going to be on its way in a few days. That’s when the real test would happen.

Maverick was leaning back, grinning like a man who liked what he saw. “Bruh, you feel that? This shit is different. This ain’t no nickel-and-dime game, nigga. We talkin’ big weight, territories, and a whole coast lookin’ at us now.”

I nodded, but my energy wasn’t quite where his was.

He caught on quickly, as he usually did. “Yo,” he stated, straightening up as he eyed me closely. “What’s up with you? You movin’ like somethin’ on your mind heavy.”

I rubbed my hand over my chin, thinking it over. “It is.”

“Talk to me,” he pried.

I exhaled slowly. “That night we met with Don Rafael, I was supposed to be at dinner with Daija. She literally waited for me for like two hours before she just left. Shorty really sat in that restaurant alone,” I stressed.

Maverick shook his head. “Damn.”

“Yeah, man,” I spoke quietly. “I ain’t even do the shit on purpose, but it made me think... how real is this relationship shit when you got the kinda life we live? Can a man like me really have both? A legit business, business in the streets, and a woman waiting at home?”

Mav chuckled without humor, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

“That right there is the reason I don’t bother.

I don’t need a woman sittin’ around wondering where I’m at, questioning me about late nights, worried if I’m gon’ make it home or not.

I have fun, I do me, and that’s it. I don’t give the streets nothin’ to point at and call a weakness. ”

I studied him. “You calling Daija my weakness?”

He shrugged. “Not her specifically. I’m sayin’ love makes men soft.

You’re thinking about dinner when you’re supposed to be thinking about a deal.

Me? I ain’t ever gon’ have that problem.

The streets don’t need to know my heart is attached to nobody.

That way, they can’t use my weakness against me. ”

I let everything he said sink in. Mav had his way, and I had mine. Truth was, I wasn’t ready to let Daija go, not after building with her. She was more than just love. She was a balance for me. Still, I couldn’t ignore the weight of his words either.

Before I could respond, there was a knock on the office door. One of Mav’s security leaned in with his face serious.

“We got an unannounced visitor,” he informed us.

“Who?” Mav questioned with a confused face.

“He said his name is Frost.”

Mav’s eyes instantly flicked to mine. I stayed calm, leaned back in my seat, and told him to let him in.

Moments later, Frost walked through the door like he owned the place. Tall, dark eyes that were sharp, and a diamond cut glinting in his left ear. His aura carried weight, the kind of weight that needed no introduction. He made sure of it with his first words.

“You know who I am,” he stated flatly, scanning both of us. “Ain’t no need for names.”

Neither Maverick nor I flinched. We just watched him closely.

He stepped closer. “I’ma get straight to it. Stay away from my clients and stay out my territories. I had an understanding with Mallo, and I expect the same from whoever steps in his shoes.”

Maverick leaned forward with heat in his eyes. “See, that’s where you got it twisted, my nigga. We ain’t Mallo. We ain’t playin’ understudy to nobody. We’re our own men. His understanding ain’t ours.”

Frost smirked, tilting his head. “So that’s how it is?”

“That’s exactly how it is,” Maverick shot back.

“You do your thing, and we’ll do ours. But don’t think for a second you gon’ dictate how we move. That part is dead,” I gritted, keeping my voice calm but firm.

The silence after was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Frost let our words hang, sizing us up as if he were testing where the cracks might be. Then he chuckled, low and cold.

“Aight. Say less.” He turned and headed for the door. Before he stepped out, he looked back over his shoulder. “But don’t say I ain’t warn you.”

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving the office heavy with unspoken tension.

Maverick blew out a breath, shaking his head. “That nigga really walked up in here like he the muthafuckin’ boogeyman.”

“He’s testing the waters,” I pointed out. “Trying to see how far he can push.”

“That nigga can’t move a muscle over here.”

“Facts,” I agreed, but my eyes stayed on the closed door.

Frost didn’t look like he was the type to waste words.

His warning meant something was coming. It was just a matter of time before we saw when and how.

Uncertainty settled in the room like smoke after blowing a spliff.

However, one thing I knew for sure. Maverick and I had stepped into a different game, and Frost wasn’t gon’ bow out quietly.