He looked around the table and said, “Y’all know why we asked you here.”
Wise nodded once. “We heard about the attack.”
“Everybody heard about the attack,” Saint muttered.
Prodigy leaned forward and folded his hands. “So say it plainly.”
“Last year, we went to war with The Crown and took down the boss and most of its high-ranking soldiers. But his brother is in Chicago, Matías De La Cruz. He rebuilt what was left of the Crown and came at us heavy.”
Wise looked at Prodigy, then back at Icon. “How heavy?”
“They hit a public event with coordinated shooters on foot, in cars, and on roofs,” Legend answered. “We lost men.”
Vega’s expression lost all humor then. That was the first real switch I saw in him that night. One second he looked like the easiest man in the room to joke with. The next, he looked like he’d burn a block down.
Prodigy asked, “What do we know about the brother’s structure?”
Jamir was there too, tucked off at the end of the bar with his laptop open. He turned the screen enough for the men closest to him to see. “He came with manpower and discipline. He has shooters that know how to hold positions, apply pressure, and ride out a plan without folding under return fire.”
Prodigy nodded once. “So, this isn’t just revenge driven by emotion. It’s a calculated attack.”
Legend pointed at him. “Exactly.”
Icon took a sip of his drink. “We called y’all because we need experienced soldiers who can go to work.”
Legend added. “We respect how y’all move. If we’re going to answer this the right way, we need men who are trained, mature, and not just hungry to shoot.”
That ask meant something. It was one thing to invite another crew into your city to eat. It was another thing entirely to ask them to stand beside you in real war. That meant trust. That meant respect. That meant we weren’t just nodding at the Street Kings as the next wave coming up. We were recognizing them as men whose structure could stand beside ours.
Vega lifted his glass a little. “That’s love.”
Big A leaned back and looked them over. “It’s also because y’all some fly niggas and we don’t want to die looking basic.”
That made Lowe laugh first. “I knew I liked you Cartier niggas,” he said. “You violent and unserious.”
“Mostly violent,” Lux corrected, finally speaking up.
All eyes went to him because he hadn’t said much all night. He leaned his forearms on the table and said, “If Matías came this way once and didn’t finish the job, he’ll come again. So, the question is how hard you plan on hitting back and when. Because you can’t play no games, you gotta hit them and hit them hard.”
Prodigy looked toward Lux with approval, then back at Icon. “He’s right. If this ends with us knocking down foot soldiers and shooting up two or three spots, then all we’ve done is announce ourselves. We need the head.”
Vega set his glass down. “But not rushed.”
Legend nodded. “That’s where we are.” Then Legend looked around the room and said, “So let’s call it what it is. We’re asking for an alliance.”
Wise answered first. “You got it.”
Then Vega added, “We’re in.”
Prodigy nodded. “On one condition.”
Saint lifted a brow.
Prodigy added, “When we make a move, we finish it. No random attacks.”
Icon answered without hesitation. “Agreed. We make the move when the time is perfect, when it’s effective. We take the head and end this shit for good.” Icon looked around at all of us and added, “Until then, security stays tripled. Everybody keeps their head on a swivel. Nobody rides loose. Nobody freelances. Nobody gets comfortable.”
Lowe leaned back in his chair and smiled. “Well then. Let’s show the city what happens when old kings and new kings move together.”
