Page 29 of Welcome to the Table

One stripper danced in front of me. She was beautiful, and if I wanted to take someone home tonight, it would have been her, but I wasn’t on that type of time.

She was nice to look at and to let dance on me, but that was about it.

My mind was still stuck on Klarity and what the fuck happened at my parents’ house, and it didn’t sit too well with me.

Come the next day, I would put my boots on the ground to look for her because this was the woman I wanted to have my last name.

I was mid-sip when I noticed that everybody was moving to one side of the club.

Shit wasn’t normal. They looked frightened, almost as if they were playing the fucking mannequin challenge.

I walked toward the balcony. I didn’t have to turn around to know that Grove was to my left and Hellcat had sobered up and was to my right.

I leaned over the balcony to see why the fuck people were scattering like roaches, and the fucking music had stopped in the fucking club that we owned.

I surveyed the empty space and noticed that no one was there.

I looked toward the entrance and heard Hellcat’s blades swinging.

“What the fuck are they doing here? Why the fuck are they even in the United States?” I heard Hellcat grit behind me.

I didn’t want to tell him about the shit that happened earlier because I handled that.

These motherfuckers just didn’t understand when their company was no longer needed.

I turned to give them a look, then I searched the crowd for my people camouflaged in the background.

A smirk graced my face because this nigga had to be ready to die, and I would deal with the other shit later.

I nodded, and we made our way to the steps and walked down them like the gangstas we were because this was our shit, and the shit they were trying to pull was disrespectful.

I didn’t give one fuck what they were doing to help Melph.

This was our shit, and they were not about to run us out. I walked in the front.

When we made it to the bottom of the stairs, I noticed Frenchy and some of his minions walking in. I was heated but wouldn’t show it. I stepped in front of him with Hellcat and Hollygrove on each side of me. I stepped forward.

“The fuck you doing in my club, you bitch ass nigga? You supposed to be across the water right now,” I told him, and he laughed, pissing me off even more.

“Last time I checked, this was a free country, and I can go where I please, and since we will become partners―”

I cut him off. This third world country ass nigga was tripping.

“Partners? Nigga, what the fuck you really talking about?” Hellcat stepped up and asked. His knife in hand, ready for whatever.

“I see your father didn’t tell you what is going on. In exchange for our protection, we can distribute your establishments with our product through every avenue that is owned by the Black Guerrilla Mafia,” he said with a cocky grin on his face.

That shit wasn’t happening. I wouldn’t let it. I looked over at my hittas, who stood in the corner of the DJ booth, and nodded. They came like savages, grabbing every nigga who looked out of place.

“Bring them to the fucking dungeon now,” I barked, and they followed my orders.

We had a separate place outside of the gambling shit where we did our dirty work.

This was not part of the fucking plan, so them niggas were still stalking me.

I didn’t like that shit at all. We followed my hittas down the stairs past the gamblers who didn’t even look our way, and to the back of the basement.

“You gon’ regret this, Calliope,” he tried to say, but was breathless. His face was beet red, like he was suffocating.

I told the nigga about wearing suits in hot ass New Orleans.

“I don’t regret a fucking thing I do in this life, but you will regret trying to strong-arm me in my own fucking city.” I lit my blunt and gave out orders.

“What the fuck is he talking about, Calliope? What the fuck happened when we left Athena and Melph’s house?” I knew Hellcat was going to catch on.

“Not now, nigga, but in due time, I will tell you.” I hated that he knew me so well. He knew I was hiding some shit.

“Nah, nigga, tell me now. I hate when you do that shit, then I don’t know what the fuck is coming. You have a nigga in the blind about everything. I’m sick of this shit. If you don’t tell, me Imma slice this Colombian nigga from ear to ear and send his tongue to his maw and paw.”

I knew he was serious, but that would start unnecessary beef that we didn’t need. For whatever reason, Melph felt the need to be protected by the Colombians, but that was on him. I slightly shook my head at him, and Grove pulled him aside to control his temper.

“Grab that chair and sit that nigga in it. Grab his other minions and do the same, since they felt the need to follow their leader. Grab that rope and tie their ankles and wrists to the chair.”

I watched as everything unraveled because they had picked the wrong fucking son to play with. Once everything was how I wanted it to be, I stood in front of them.

“Now what the fuck was that you said when you walked into my shit?” I asked nicely.

“Why it gotta be all this? I was stating the obvious, but clearly the message wasn’t given to you, or we wouldn’t be like this. A simple miscommunication that can be fixed before your father leaves, and we should be good.”

I didn’t like the way the nigga was talking like we shot marbles in the hood as little kids or some shit. I walked closer to his face, pulling my gun out and putting it to his temple. Nigga was shaking like a leaf.

“Unlike you, I make my own decisions. I don’t need to consult with no fucking body about the moves I make, and you will not move drugs through my operation. Who the fuck gave you the green light to do so?” I asked him, pushing my gun further into his head.

“Your father talked to Fanucci, and he said everything was a go. That’s all I was told.”

I shook my head. This nigga folded like a pretzel under pressure. I didn’t need that type of weakness on my team.

“Please let me cut this nigga’s neck.” Hellcat walked to the left of me, hype as fuck. The nigga wasn’t even drunk anymore, but still had the bottle of liquor in his hand.

“Nah, he good for now. What the fuck is that smell?” I looked down, and this nigga had pissed himself.

“Man, this nigga too fucking scary. He pissed himself, and I bet he got dookie in his boxers too. Funky ass nigga.” Hellcat laughed, and Grove joined in.

I looked at every man on their line and kept their faces stored in my mental in case they didn’t fucking listen.

“Hellcat, this shit ain’t funny,” I told him, and he laughed harder.

“I’m laughing to keep from slicing every nigga on this line, so it’s safe for everybody for me to laugh.”

I knew he was telling the truth, so I let him have his moment

“Get these niggas out my fucking sight before I shoot all of them. This shit doesn’t make no sense. Escort them to their cars and make sure they fucking leave this time. If I see them again, Fanucci will be missing a fucking child,” I told my crew, and they started moving quickly.

I walked out of the basement with Hellcat and Grove behind me, pissed the fuck off.

We went back to our section, and it was pandemonium.

Bitches were twirling on the poles. Niggas were throwing money and were all over the fucking sofa.

The shit made my skin crawl when I noticed their shoes, stepping all over the sofa that we were sitting on.

It was okay for Hellcat to do it, but random niggas were a no-go.

I pulled my gun out and shot one in the air.

Everyone turned to look at me and began to beat their fucking feet.

“Get the fuck out my fucking section! Y’all niggas and bitches know better!” I barked as they stampeded out of the section.

The maid and bartender were already in action, cleaning shit just the way I needed it. I needed to talk to these niggas before I headed out to my house because this shit was too fucking much.

After they finished cleaning and bringing a bottle of Don to our table, I sat on one couch, and they sat opposite me.

The room was glass but soundproof, so no one would know what we were discussing, but they could see us.

I looked downstairs, and they were dancing and partying like shit just didn’t happen, but that was a luxury of controlling shit.

We all poured our drinks, and I knew Hellcat was dying to know what the fuck was going on.

“What the fuck was Frenchy doing in the city, and what the fuck was he talking about?” he asked, throwing back a shot.

I ran down to him everything that happened when I left the house, leading to where we currently were.

“I didn’t know anything about the shit he was talking about. It’s too late to try and make it back to Melph to talk to him, but them niggas not stepping in this club with coke. We don’t do drugs of any kind. I don’t give a fuck what he talking about,” I told them, and Hellcat rubbed his beard.

I knew he was in deep thought about some shit. I looked over at Hollygrove, and he was smiling wide as fuck. They were on the same page, but I wasn’t. I couldn’t read their fucking minds. Their antennas were sparking the same energy, but I couldn’t feel a fucking thing.

“The fuck y’all niggas thinking about?” I looked at them.