Page 57 of A Don & His Doll

Mitch turned the page and continued reading until he saw his father's medication log. Every prescription, the dosage, all refills, and the doctor's instructions were all included. But what boiled his blood, and made his trigger finger itch was when he read the next sentence.

Primary caregiver responsible for daily medication administration–Macie Black.

His jaw flexed, and his temples throbbed as he reached an inevitable conclusion. That bitch killed my father, Mitch thought, standing and walking to the window that overlooked the city. The amount of rage that filled Mitch was deadly, but from the outside looking in, he maintained his composure. He wasn't an impulsive man because impulses lead to thoughtless decisions and unnecessary mistakes, and Mitch couldn't afford to mess up again. However, the consequences were inevitable, and Macie was going to pay. Mitch wasn't preparing for retaliation, he was preparing for judgment, and to dismantle Macie's entire existence piece by piece. Mitch would be sure to set it up in a way that there would be no mistake who had destroyed her. He wanted her to know it was him, and by the time Macie realized the game had changed, there wouldn't be a move left on the board to save her.

The more Mitch thought about the move that had been made, and it fucked him up that he too had been caught slipping. It's been said that if a person ever wanted to get fucked, family would be the ones to do it the best.

Mitch released a humorless chuckle.

“I’ll be damned,” Mitch said to himself as the scales fell from his eyes.

His eyes drifted back toward the toxicology report lying open across his desk. The evidence spoke louder than anybody's opinion ever could. Macie had hidden behind grief, behind loyalty, behind the image of a devoted wife and daughter-in-law. Meanwhile, she'd been strategically dismantling the Black family brick-by-brick, and no one had seen it until the foundation started cracking beneath their feet.

Mitch replayed every angle in his mind, searching for another explanation, another possibility, just anything that didn't end with Macie's name. There wasn't one. Every road led right back to her. Nothing surprised Mitch, but he’d be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t disappointed. The truth of the matter was that if she could do the things she’d done to Monroe, there was no line she wouldn’t cross…no rule she wouldn’t break to get her way. It would forever be a cold world, and shit was getting worse and worse as the days progressed.

The Black Family was built to last, however. Their legacy had been structured to last forever, and Mitch would die protecting their name and every aspect of their legal and illegal business. He shook his head, knowing despite the shit Monroe was going through, he couldn't sit on information like this and not tell him. He hated adding another burden to his nephew's shoulders, but some conversations couldn't wait…some truths were too heavy to carry alone. They were family, but they were also business partners. Mitch turned and walked back to his desk, picked up his phone, and scrolled to Monroe's contact.

"What's good, Unc!" Monroe answered as he blew out smoke.

"How fast can you get to me?" Mitch asked, getting straight to it.

Monroe turned down his music. "'Bout thirty minutes. Everything good?" Monroe quizzed.

"Nah. Everything just changed,” Mitch said, his statement holding more weight than Monroe realized.

“I’m on my way,” Monroe said, then disconnected the call.

Mitch placed his phone on the table, realizing the enemy had been eating dinner at their table all along.

Brent Faiyaz 's Vanilla Sky. oozed through the speakers, resonating deeply with the way he was feeling as he cruised down River Oaks Boulevard. Over the last few weeks, life had hit him from every direction imaginable. He needed a breather so he could think straight, before life demanded something else from him. So much had taken place back to back, but in the midst of all the bullshit, Monroe made plans to go to Houston because if anybody could pull him out of his head for a few hours, it was his mans’, Truth. He killed his engine as soon as he parked in the driveway, then got out and made his way to the front door. He rang the doorbell, and seconds later Rae opened it with a warm smile.

"Hey, bro! How are you?" she asked, with open arms.

"I'm doin' a'ight, sis? How you doin'?" Monroe replied, stepping in as Rae closed the door.

"Where's Missy? She know you here without her?" Rae pressed, giving him a playful side eye.

"See, there you go already." Monroe laughed. "Where my bro at?" He asked, swaying the conversation away from Promise because the truth was, he didn't know what she was doing.

"Uncle Roe!" TJ called, running down the stairs excitedly.

"What's goin' on, young king?" Monroe matched his excitement, giving him a hug.

"It's been forever since I seen you. Where's Auntie Missy?" TJ asked.

"She still in New York, but I'll tell her you asked ‘bout her," Monroe told him. “You growin’ up on me too. I see you.”

TJ laughed.

"Roe! What it be like, bruh?" Truth voiced, as he rounded the corner.

"I can't call it. You know how we do it. One day at a time," Monroe shot back, slapping hands with his mans' and giving him a brotherly hug.

"You ready get in the wind?" Truth asked.

"Already," Monroe said, giving a brief nod.

"You good, Rae?" Truth asked before walking out the door.