Page 41 of Rich Forever: Zo & Remy

I scanned the room, giving one last chance before they made a mistake they couldn’t fix. No one spoke up.

“Alright. Next item.”

And just like that, the meeting continued, but I’m sure my last words hung in the air.

I don’t threaten niggas. But if I ever did, I never did it lightly. And for sure, I never did it twice. I made a mental note to call Hollow later. I needed to make it perfectly clear to that nigga never to schedule a rookie for any of our families. The last thing we needed was someone who was untrained when some shit popped off.

When the meeting was over, I dismissed the family and gathered all my folders. Then I tucked them underneath my arm and went to find Judah. I tapped on his door three times before I pushed it open.

His office was on the far side of the building. It was the last one in the hallway. From the outside, you would think it wasn’t occupied. But this nigga worked in the dark, and his office always had the faint smell of burned wires. He used computers like we all used guns.

“Damn, nigga. I didn’t say come in; I was trying to pretend I wasn’t here.” He said, never taking his eyes off his computer screen.

I scoffed, “You still on call with the Elites?”

“Nope, been off for about an hour now, what’s up?” He asked.

“Then why the fuck didn’t you come lead the meeting?” I shot back.

He blinked slowly, and then he spun in his chair and finally looked at me. “If I got to do it, what the hell you got the title for? Bragging rights?”

I chuckled, hit the button on his light switch to turn back on the motion detector, and took a seat in front of his desk.

“You got what I asked you?” I questioned. I had handed Judah all the information that I could find on Karlos Weston. From my background in Homeland Security and my experience in the business over the last few years, I knew my way around a computer. But Judah? That nigga could make a computer do shit the developers cried about at night. He could break through anything, so when I needed the real truth, I brought it to him.

“Yeah, I found the same shit that you found. That nigga is most likely dead.” He said, before he reached into the drawer, and got an envelope. He slid it toward me.

“That doesn’t make sense, Judah. His family never touched his assets. When muhfuckas die, that’s the first thing they do. Fight over shit.” I flipped through the pages, and sure enough, it was the same information that I had gotten. Same incomplete details and missing signatures.

“You’re right, but neither did he. If he were alive? He would have touched something. Even a ghost slips up somewhere.”

“Unless he was planning to die.”

Judah stopped typing and gave me a look like I needed to be drug tested.

“Zo, come on. Don’t start that bullshit.”

He called it bullshitting, and maybe it was. But my gut wouldn’t shut up. Ever since Rem told me about that letter, nothing felt right. A death was reported, but no documents were sent in. To me, it sounded like that nigga was ready to let Rem know he was still around.

“Look, man, that nigga is dead and gone. I would normally find something that tells me otherwise, but this one seems solid. The slickest niggas still leave a digital footprint. Rem said he was a piece of shit. That nigga died, and his whole organization probably put something on the grill,” He chuckled as I looked at each paper. Still trying to find a flaw in what was in front of me.

He laughed; I didn’t.

“Do something else for me. Look up this nigga name, Douglas Black.”

“The old head who you said you thought sent the flowers? Why?” He asked, raising his eyebrow.

I nodded and gave him all the information that I had found on him. We had security measures; to even get an appointment, you had to go through a security check. But still, I needed to be sure.

“Because that nigga hesitated to shake my hand. And I don’t like when niggas hesitate around my wife like that. I don’t trust it.” I answered flatly. The reason was simple. The look in his eyes when he did it told me that it wasn’t business for him. It was personal.

Judah cracked his knuckles and started typing again. “Aight. Let’s see.”

The screen lit up, codes and systems came up one after the other like he was hacking the damn FBI database. I sat back and watched him work. Judah worked best in silence, and when he found something, his face always said it before his mouth did.

“Gah DAMN,” Judah wheezed as he jumped back from the screen. “This nigga must’ve been swept up in a tornado.” He saidas he turned his face from the screen and made a face that made me laugh, despite the moment.

“Man, just tell me what you found.”