“I mean—yeah,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “Good thing you had me look into him. On the surface he looks clean, but this is his MO. He’s pulled the same shit in a few other states.”
Money’s jaw tightened as he glanced back at the paperwork.
“He comes in fast, starts talking about bringing in additional investors to help move the project forward,” I continued. “But really, he just flipped thirty percent of the property to his own shell company. It gives him leverage to secure loans for other deals—none of which have shit to do with you.”
“How long this been going on? And what the fuck is he doing with my money?” Money asked.
“About six months,” I pointed at one of the documents. “He already borrowed four hundred grand against the building. Aquarter of it’s sitting in an offshore account, the rest he’s funneling into side deals. The property’s been sitting vacant the whole time. Those luxury salon suites were never happening.”
“This motherfucker,” Money muttered, shaking his head. “He must really think I’m stupid.” He reached for his phone vibrating on the desk.
“Hey, baby,” he said, his voice softening instantly. “No, I didn’t forget we were going.”
I made a move to leave, but he lifted a hand to stop me.
“I swear I’m not working late, mama. I’ll pick you up in twenty minutes. Mhm. Love you too.”
He hung up and looked back at me. “This woman wants to go look at baby furniture.”
I grinned. Cash wasted no time reversing his vasectomy after he and Jasmine got engaged, and a few months after the wedding she was pregnant.
“I don’t know why we can’t just order that shit online,” he grumbled.
“Because women like to see things in person,” I laughed. “And she probably wants to spend time with you. Y’all both work crazy hours.”
He rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Let me go get my wife before she cusses me out too bad. These pregnancy hormones got her on one.” He stood and leaned across the table to dap me up. “Tell Slim to grab Bruno and bring him to the farmhouse tomorrow. I'll deal with him in the morning.”
I lifted my brows. Cash had stepped back from running the crew to focus on expanding the commercial real estate side of things. Outside of occasionally having to rough somebody up, he hadn’t gone to the farmhouse in over a year.
“You need me to come through?” I asked.
“Up to you,” he shrugged. “I’m not gonna kill him—still need his bitch ass to give me my money back.”
I left his office, slid into my truck, and connected the phone to Bluetooth to call Slim.
“‘Sup?” he answered on the second ring.
“Money wants you to snatch Bruno and bring him to the farmhouse tomorrow.”
“And do what? Just leave him?”
“You know that nigga has a few screws loose.”
Slim sighed. “This nigga,” I could practically hear him rolling his eyes through the phone. “Yeah, aight. What you getting into tonight?”
“Shit. I might roll past my sister real quick. Why?”
“Oh? Tell her I said what’s up.”
“I’m not telling her shit. Call her yourself.”
“You a hater,” he said, laughing. “I’ma holla at you after I finish handling some things.”
“Bet.”
Slim and my younger sister, Drea, hooked up a few years ago, and every now and then, they’d slipped back into each other’s world on some messy shit. But Drea wasn’t about to settle down with Slim or anyone else anytime soon—her commitment issues had commitment issues.
I sat in the parking lot for a minute debating whether I should actually go to her place. The more reasonable thing was to grab food, go home, and get some sleep. But I was already on autopilot by the time I finally backed out of the parking space.
