“Maybe that’s why Marcel loves me and hates me at the same time,” I replied. “I look like the son he stole from.”
“You got more than his face,” my uncle said. “You got his pride. That shit’ll build you up and break you down if you don’t watch it.”
I took a slow sip of water, letting his words sit.
“What you gonna do about this marriage thing you were talking about this morning. Old man on his bullshit?” he asked finally.
Zacian’s head snapped toward me. “Marriage?”
I exhaled. “Yeah, bro. Some arranged shit Marcel is pushing on me.”
Zacian whistled. “Damn.”
“I don’t know what I want to do, though,” I admitted. “Part of me wants to tell Marcel to take his name back and shove it. LetLaurent be the pretty French prince. But if I step down, Laurent gets the power. And if Laurent gets the power, everybody who looks like me or loves me becomes a target. Including you.”
Zacian went quiet. That was his tell.
“Then you already know what you gonna do,” Uncle Reggie said. “You was born into war, nephew. Shit like this come with the bloodline. You just gotta make sure you don’t lose yourself while you playing their game.”
“That’s the problem,” I said. “I’m starting to feel like the game is running me.”
He shrugged. “Then change the rules.”
Simple. Like life was that easy.
“You still got your women?” he asked.
“Not anymore.”
Zacian let out a short laugh. “Never thought I’d hear that.”
“Grandfather’s orders,” I said. “Clean house. Look like a king, not a rapper with a harem.”
Uncle Reggie chuckled. “I like that old man for you and hate him at the same time.”
“Join the club.”
He clapped a hand on my shoulder.
“Whatever you do, make sure you’re sleeping at night. Sin will find you either way, but you don’t need insomnia on top of it.”
I smirked. “I haven’t slept since I left Marseille.”
“Then go handle what’s keeping you up,” Uncle Reggie said. “And try not to shoot nobody on the way. You just had a good session.”
No promises.
I packed my guns up, slapped my uncle’s palm, and walked out with the bag in one hand and my thoughts in the other. Zacian followed close, quiet, like he was already putting pieces together he didn’t yet know the meaning of.
$$$$$
I rode the city, low-key, windows dark enough to keep curious eyes out. LA moved around me. Sirens in the distance, helicopters low, homeless tents under billboards with my artists’ faces on them. This was my kingdom, whether I wanted it or not.
And I could not get one woman off my mind.
Naomi.
I thumbed my phone at a red light and pulled up her text from the break-up night. The only one that did not say fuck you. The only one who actually cared about me in the end.
