Chapter
Nine
SETH
“Yo.”
Rich’s voice hit the line the second the phone rang, like he’d been waiting for me to make this call.
“Dre started war… and left his mama wide open.” My voice was cold, flat. No emotion, just facts. The gates to my estate creaked open as I pulled off, the soft hum of the engine filling the silence. But inside me there was nothing soft. Just fire.
Stormi and Shiloh had been home for a few weeks now. After weeks in that cold-ass hospital, I finally had my wife in our bed, skin to skin, peace in my arms, our baby boy curled up like he ain’t know the world tried to take his mother from us.
And that, that was the only reason Dre was still breathing. But I’d let him breathe long enough. He made his move. He knew exactly what he was doing coming for me by going after the only thing I’d die for without hesitation. He touched my world, and now I was about to burn his to the fucking ground.
I should’ve shot him that night. Should’ve buried him next to the mistakes he made. But I chose my family first. I chose Stormi’stears and Shiloh’s first breath over revenge. Now I was choosing balance.
“I woke up today knowing it was gon’ be a fun day,” Rich said, that sick little smile dancing on his words. He was always ready to get dirty; he never needed a reason. Just a green light.
“Let’s have some, then. Meet me at the warehouse. Got a shipment coming in.”
I hung up without another word, screen flashing back to my wallpaper of Stormi, S3, and Shiloh all laid out in our bed the night before. Knocked out, safe, and home. That image grounded me. It also fueled me. They were the only things that kept me human. The only thing that stopped me from turning into the exact monster Dre thought I’d never become. But let’s be real, I’d been him before. And I could go back there in a second.
I gripped the wheel tighter, veins pulsing with memory of the bodies, the blood, the weight of running an empire nigga thought they wanted until they saw what it cost.
The ride to the warehouse was silent, but my mind was loud as hell. Every second I thought about Dre was a second closer to him not breathing. He thought he could step into my world and rewrite the rules. Thought he could touch what was mine and walk away whole.
Nah., He forgot who I was. He forgot who he was dealing with. This wasn’t about street politics anymore. This wasn’t about turf or money or name. This was personal. He’d brought it to my doorstep. Brought it to my wife’s body, to my son’s first moments in this world. And now, now I was bringing it to his.
“Half a million on a tractor trailer,” Southside said the minute I hopped out the truck, and my boots hit the pavement.
I walked toward him, already sizing up the scene. Workers were moving like clockwork unloading, breaking down, bagging up, stacking to go back out. Smooth, no hiccups, and no dead weight. Exactly how I liked it.
Southside and I dapped up, shoulder bump heavy like we’d both been through too much this week already. Before I could even speak, he beat me to it.
“How’s my godson?”
I turned toward him with a proud daddy smile, about to speak, when I heard that familiar voice from behind.
“Shit, nigga, when you get a godson?” Rich strolled in from the back like he owned the place, grinning like trouble.
“Here this nigga go,” Southside said, laughing as they dapped up too.
“Tell this man Shiloh’s good,” Rich said, looking at me. “Jit thinks 4 a.m. is 4 p.m. but we alive.”
I smirked, letting the sound of their banter roll off me for a second. It felt good, for once, to be surrounded by people who got it. Family wasn’t just blood, it was who showed up, who stayed, who stood in the fire with you.
When Stormi and Shiloh came back home, Rich moved right back in without a word. One thing about my brother, my family, was his family. Late night feedings, dropping S3 off at school, running errands, or laying a nigga out for breathing wrong near Stormi, Rich didn’t blink. I never had to ask. Never had to question. One day, I’d repay that kind of loyalty. One day, I’d getthe chance to show up for him the way he did for me. But today. Today I had a different mission.
“Business looks good,” I said, eyes still scanning the operation. “But I got a visit to make. Dre’s mama. So, I’m out.”
Southside didn’t even hesitate. “Shit, nigga. I’m out with you.”
We all headed for the doors together; me, Southside, and Rich the city heat hitting us like pressure as we stepped out. But I didn’t feel it.
I was already burning from the inside.
I was ready to start purging. Shut down the entire city if I had to. Burn every corner, check every alley, shake every soul connected to Dre until I pulled him out of whatever hole he thought was safe.
