I still held onto the first face to face encounter I had with Danae at the diner. I remembered the turtleneck she wore in the heat, making it obvious that she was hiding something. Then there was the bruise on her wrist. I knew that me pointing it out may have thrown her off, but I didn’t believe in holding my tongue for anyone, especially when pointing out something I felt was a problem. I gave her a few words of encouragement beforegoing about my business, but I didn’t forget her face. In fact, I got her name from my sister.
That night, I called Grandma Lettie and asked her to send a special prayer up for Danae. I asked her to pray over her situation and that whatever person or thing that had been causing her pain be removed from her life. And then, I asked that she pray that once Danae was free and whole again, she’d save the most sacred parts of herself for me. Grandma didn’t question my why; she just said, “Okay, grandson.” I knew it was as good as done.
“I’ma marry that woman,” I proclaimed.
She stood, pulling her housecoat close. “I believe you, grandson. There’s a step before that though.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“Get her to at least go on a date with you. You over here having cars towed and shit like that’s romantic. You ‘bout as crazy as yo’ damn daddy.”
I laughed, and she walked over to kiss my cheek. “I’m gonna head to bed. I love you. Lock up when you leave.”
“I love you too, G. Good night.”
My phone buzzed in my lap as she left the room.
Sullivan Business: Delivered.
Nodding, I got up and grabbed my coat. It was time to get back to work.
The ‘delivered’message was one I’d been waiting on since I touched back down in the city from Tulum a couple days ago. A weekend business trip turned into a week of negotiations and an unexpected partnership that was very beneficial to me and TheSullivan Family. Sliding behind the wheel of my Lamborghini Urus, I sped out of my grandmother’s development and made my way into the city. As I hit ninety on the highway, I glanced out my window at the bright night sky. New York moved like it belonged to me. In a lot of ways, it did.
I was Aura Sullivan. If the way I showed up didn’t tell you anything, my name alone said enough. My family’s name carried weight near and far. Respect, loyalty, and money moved throughout generations long before I settled in my father’s nut sack. I’d been carrying the torch as the head for the last eight years. Before me was my father, before him, Grandma Lettie, and before her, her father. This shit was in our blood forreal.
Each line had made the organization more sophisticated than its predecessor. For eight years, I’d been keeping everything together and running smoothly – quiet when it needed to be, loud enough to where we weren’t just heard but felt when necessary. We were good people at heart. A family full of business owners, investors, builders, and givers alike. And at the same time, our underworld operation was stitched into our bloodline, one that people whispered about.
I drove into Brooklyn where the Sullivan Distillery was located, a place where tourists often toured and private events were held when we weren’t busy making and packaging the finest spirits to be exported all over the country. One would never know what other goods were imported and held in the brick building. I pulled into the lot, and security was posted up at the doors. Glancing up at the roof, I spotted one of my shooters in their designated position.
Parking in my reserved spot, I got out and walked up to the entrance. “What’s good?” I spoke to the guys.
“Wassup, Aura?” They both greeted, dapping me up.
“Drop off went well?”
“Yep,” King, the head of security for the distillery, spoke. “They dropped at the dock. We cleared everything, and the crew is handling the rest inside.”
“Good looking, King.”
He opened the door for me, and I entered the building. Inside, warm lighting cast over the entire upstairs. Polished concrete, exposed brick, and glass separated the space where patrons mingled from where the machinery to make the alcohol was operated. Upstairs was open to the public for people to celebrate, drink, and pretend they understood the craftsmanship, all while having no idea of the full operation that lived beneath their feet. Bypassing the tasting floor, I headed straight for the private elevator behind a door labeled ‘Security Only’. A scan of my fingerprint got the elevator moving.
Downstairs was a stark contrast to the liveliness from upstairs. The air was cooler. The lights were bright, but there was no music or ambiance. Just people at work.
“What’s the word?” I asked my cousin, Kyiris, who stood at the end of a long, stainless-steel table that was stacked with product labeled by section.
There was coke, pills, weed, and my most recent add on, guns.
Key lifted her head from the iPad and nodded. “We’re right where we need to be. Inventory matches up with the order. Taylin and Jay are in the back organizing what’s there, and then they’ll start putting this away.”
“Alright, cool.” I shrugged my coat off and hung it on the wall. “Lemme see what you got.” I kissed her cheek while taking the iPad from her.
“This a lotta shit, Aura. Good thing I’m always on my A game and a stickler for detail. You ain’t give no heads up about this.”
“Yeah. You know I don’t like to speak on anything until plans are fully executed. Besides, you can’t stay on your toes if I let you know everything in advance.”
“Mmhmm. You just love to do that secret squirrel shit.”
I snickered. “That too. Everything looks good.” I handed her back the iPad after making sure the counts were exact.
