“That explains the structure,” Legend said. “That wasn’t random.”
“No,” Jamir agreed. “It was coordinated. Foot soldiers, roof positions, timed pressure, and enough firepower to pin y’all down in public. He wanted casualties. He wanted panic. He wanted a message sent. Luckily, the entire family wasn’t in attendance. This could have been catastrophic.”
Saint’s eyes went cold. “Well, the message got received.”
Jamir added, “Matías didn’t just bring muscle. He brought loyalty. He is the kind of man people follow because he makes them believe in themselves and a good cause.”
Big A sucked his teeth. “So, we got a grief-stricken cartel nigga with an army.”
“Basically,” Jamir said.
Icon then asked, “How much manpower?”
Jamir’s fingers moved over the keyboard again. “Enough that if y’all go at him with your current number, y’all lose bodies.”
Legend looked at Icon, and they had one of those silent conversations brothers who ran empires had without saying too much.
Finally, Icon said it out loud. “We’re going to need more manpower.”
Saint nodded once. “Street Kings?”
Big A agreed immediately. “Yep.”
I looked down at Ava and her hand squeezed mine once before letting go. That little pressure grounded me enough to hear everything else clearly.
Legend asked, “What’s the damage?”
Jamir’s eyes dropped back to the laptop. “Three confirmed dead.”
“Which three?” Icon asked.
Jamir pulled another screen up. “Darnell. Mitch. Cortez.”
Big A cursed under his breath and looked away.
Saint stood up straighter from where he’d been hovering near Zahra and Czar. “Fuck.”
I sat there, feeling the grief.
Darnell had been with us for years. He was a quiet nigga that never had to be told the same thing twice. Mitch used to do overnight security at the estate before moving into bigger work with us. Cortez had kids. I knew that because he talked about them all the time. These weren’t random hired men off the street. These were men who had worked with us long enough to become familiar and trusted.
Icon rubbed his hand over his mouth. “We need to pay for their services and take care of their families.”
“Can you spin this shit so that it won’t look bad for Ava and Royal Strandz?” I spoke up. “I don’t want her business to suffer once word gets out that this happened at her event.”
In appreciation, Ava leaned against me, laying her hand on my shoulder. Behind Jamir, I could see Livia and Tempo making sappy faces at me.
“I already need to spin this away from us, so I’ve been making it look like typical Chicago violence. A gang sees rivals walking down the block, shots ring out, and it turns into a shootout. The pop-up just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was on a busy block so its believable. Random violence makes more sense to most people. If I get enough of the right people repeating it, that becomes the story. The city wants an easy answer. Chicago being Chicago is always an easy answer.”
Ava looked over at him and said softly, “Thank you.”
Jamir glanced at her, gave one little nod, then went right back to typing.
Big A dropped down into one of the chairs and shook his head. “Darnell had just told me last week he was taking his daughter shopping for some dance recital dress.”
Pouting with sympathy, Tempo went over to her husband. As soon as she was standing in front of him, he sat back and she sat on his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he buried his face in her neck, holding her tight around the waist.
“This is fucked up,” came out muffled as he held Tempo tightly against him.
