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“Nah, I wanna know what the fuck’s going on. No more secrets.” I came back and stood in front of him. “So, what’s Maxwell’s problem?”

“Stop standing over me and sit your ass down first.” Pops tipped his head at the couch.

I glared at him but did as he said.

“Maxwell’s been bitter since we took over the southern route and port in the Bronx. His people started messing up about eight years ago. Shipments were coming up short, missed pickups, that sort of thing,” he said flatly. “Solomon knew and probably got into his head with his revenge bullshit. ”

I whistled. “Isn’t that like thirty percent? Yeah, I’d wanna kill y’all too. ”

“We voted on it.”

“C’mon, Pops. You know that’s not how he sees it.”

“Doesn’t matter. He had plenty of opportunities to get his house in order and he couldn’t handle it.”

I sat back against the couch and stared at the muted TV.

I put the first bullet in the man that was my biological father with no hesitation. I’d put a second one in him if Pops hadn’t beat me to it.

I didn’t regret it either. Solomon walked into a room where my pregnant wife was and started shooting. I’d do that shit again in a heartbeat. But aren’t you supposed to feel something when you find out you killed your own father?

I felt nothing.

Did he die knowing he was threatening his own son?

My head started hurting. There wasn’t one innocent person in this whole thing, not even my mother.

I stood and looked at the papers next to Pops on the couch.

“I don’t give a damn what’s on them papers, you’re still my son,” he said.

There was a heaviness in his voice I’d never heard from him before.

“I know.”

43 CARDEZ MONTAGUE

I was back at Luther’s estate, the same place I’d announced my engagement to Belle months ago.

The irony wasn’t lost on me.

Sleep evaded me most of the night. My mind kept going to all the things Pops told me in his living room. As tough as he wanted to act, my mother’s transgressions had broken him and he’d been taking it out on everyone, including me, ever since. I couldn’t shut my brain off, so I spent most of the night fucking around with my LEGOs and figuring out how I wanted things to go with Maxwell.

No one knew what I was planning. I told Luther we needed an emergency meeting. Since he’d been at the wedding he didn’t question it.

Luther and Gilberto were nursing glasses of bourbon when I got there. Maxwell came in last and shook everyone’s hands like this was a normal meeting.

“Cardez,” Luther started. “Before we begin, I want to say on behalf of the High Table⁠—”

“Luther, I didn’t call this meeting to listen to condolences.”

He sat back and folded his hands.

I looked at Maxwell who was at the wet bar making himself a drink.

“Max.”

He turned to me.