Page 119 of The Fire We Make

August sat in the corner, glasses pushed up on his nose with one hand scrolling his laptop and the other tapping out a pattern only he knew the significance of.

All the King siblings were tough and ruthless to some degree. It was the way they’d been raised. August, however, liked his violence with a side of petty and vindictive. He would beat a nigga to within an inch of his life then put his bifocals back on and clear out his enemy’s 401K, drain his entire life savings, increase his baby mama’s child support payments, then set him up for embezzlement.

Money made this world go round, and August King was the last motherfucker you wanted playing with yours.

“What’s going on?” Ace asked.

“It seems your G.I. Jane was right,” Von said. “I had Sasha keep an eye on Curtis and it turns out, he’s been selling information.”

Ace sat up, turning to face his brother fully. “To who?”

“That’s what we don’t know,” Von shrugged. “Aug found some payments but they’re all from an offshore account.”

“The fuck!” Ace exclaimed, his fist pounding on the desk. “So he played in our face?”

Von nodded. “Looks that way. He started deleting security footage, access logs, and time stamps around the time the shipment went missing.”

Ace nodded, his nostrils flaring as he fought to remain calm.

“I’ll see if Remy can recover what he deleted,” he muttered, already lifting his phone to send his friend a text.

“We need to figure out who Curtis was working with and what they want,” he continued once his text was delivered.

“On it,” Von agreed.

“What did you do with Curtis?”

“I let Sasha play,” he smiled with a malicious gleam in his eye that Ace recognized all too well. “Figured she could teach a lesson about what happens when you think you can get some shit by on us.”

“I don’t know why niggas always trying to run game like we some fucking dickheads,” August said shaking his head.

“Shit, they see the silver spoons and think we won’t slit they motherfuckin’ throats with ‘em,” Ace answered.

They all howled with laughter.

As the third generation of Kings running their syndicate, Ace and his siblings grew up wealthy. Due to the incognito nature of their illegal dealings, a lot of their organization’s success depended on portraying to the public to be an affluent Black family and they moved through the world as such.

Private schools. Master’s and law degrees. Country clubs and all that shit. But Senior and Zachariah especially made sure they understood that regardless of the luxuries they had and the image they presented, they were still expected to grind and earn their respect.

Everyone knew the Kings could hold their own and had seen it in action on many occasions. There were the few times that someone tried to test the siblings because they thought the degrees and fraternity letters meant shit was sweet but quickly learned their lesson and served as an example for others.

“In other news,” Jrue started, setting his empty glass down with a clink. “My contact at internal affairs came through. Harris got called into a meeting this morning. If he wants to keep his badge and ‘lil checks, he’ll drop this shit.”

Ace nodded, relishing in the good news. “Good shit. Keep an eye on that for me.”

“Will do,” Jrue nodded.

The sound of feminine cackles and clacking heels halted all talk before the door swung open.

April and Joy pushed through together with all smiles, holding onto each other as they teetered on their heels with laughter.

“Where y’all been?” Ace asked, his heart jumping in his chest at the sight of Joy’s beautifully rare smile.

His question was just met with more laughter from April and bashful shake of Joy’s head.

“I told you,” April sang. She disconnected her arm from where it was looped with Joy’s and plopped on the couch beside Von.

“I took Joy to lunch,” she answered Ace finally.