“Can’t sleep, Ms. Lily. Too much going on,” he answered.

  “I see. I don’t ’spect you think you can handle it on E, do ya? Shanelle and that baby okay?”

  When I asked that, he took a step back and glared at me. He probably wondered how I knew what I knew. I stood my full height and glared up at him.

  “You know who ya Mama really was by now. You think I lived across from y’all this long and know nothing? Nothing and nobody ’round here what they seem, boy.”

  He grunted, but remained quiet. I didn’t want to push it. There was no doubt in my mind Javon would shoot me if I pushed him too far or said the wrong thing.

  “What’s in your attic, Ms. Lily?” he asked.

  I rolled my eyes then climbed up. Once I was in the attic, he came up behind me. Gun was in his hand when he stepped into the small space. I watched as he glanced at the CCTV monitors around the room. There was a long bar that went all the way around the way. Ten flat-screen TVs sat mounted above it on the wall. On the bar were laptops and computers. GPS monitors beeped and flashed with different locations around the city.

  Javon stood slack-jawed. I gave him a few seconds to take in what he was seeing.

  I said, “Claudette always stayed one step ahead of all of her enemies. That’s how she stayed untouched all those years. She built a foundation around her. In order for her to have been gunned down like that, it had to have been someone she knew, understand me, son?”

  His face was unmoved, so I couldn’t tell if I’d gotten through to him until he nodded and said, “You’re right. It was someone she knew. Someone she would have never saw coming.”

  He had my attention now. I wanted to know who killed a good friend of mine more so than they did. I was anxious for revenge. I grabbed his arm to turn him to look at me. “Who was it?” I asked merely above a whisper. I waited with bated breath for him to tell me.

  “Melissa,” he answered solemnly.

  I jumped back and clutched the top of my housecoat like they were the pearls I wore to Mass. “You lie,” I said to him.

  “No.”

  I was quiet for a long while. My lips were so thin, it looked as if I had none. I moved around the room, cleaning things that didn’t need cleaning. Tears burned my eyelids. I couldn’t grasp it. Not one of them damn mangy kids had turned on her, had they? No! My mind wouldn’t allow me to believe it. I shook my head over and over.

  “No, no. No. No,” I kept murmuring. “Taking in strays. Told her. I told her. Wish King were still here. King wouldn’t have allowed it. He helped kids, but he ain’t let none live with them. Gotdamn Raphael!”

  I mumbled and talked to myself, forgetting Javon was even in the attic with me. Lost my damn best friend. Lord, you had to take her from me? Now? Like this? I knew it was coming, but not like this. Wished King were here. King wouldn’t have allowed her to roam no streets like that by herself. I was hurting, aching. Felt like something was constricting my heart.

  “What did Uncle Snap do?” Javon asked.

  I snapped my head around at him, once I stopped slamming things down on tables. “Brought that gotdamned child to Claudette. He brung Melissa to her, he did! Found her in a whorehouse with her no-good mama. The mama offered Raphael her daughter for drugs. Raphael brought her to Claudette, you see? He brung Mama her killer,” I roared. “King wouldn’t have allowed it!”

  I couldn’t even see Javon through my tears. He was just a blurry shadow.

  “Luci wouldn’t have allowed it, either,” I shouted. “Crazy-ass Italian old man wouldn’t have let her take in strays.”

  I caught myself then looked at Javon. Deep down, a part of me hoped he knew I was in pain. He didn’t know how much Claudette had done for me. Met her back in Harlem with King. I was sent to kill King, but they ended up saving me. Long, long, long story. I was sobbing loudly by now. I missed her so much.

  I walked over to the file cabinet. Took something out and put it in my robe pocket. When I turned, Javon was there. It scared me. That damn gun was still in his hand, but when he put his arms around me, I laid my head on his chest and cried like a baby. I let it all out.

  Once I was tired of standing, I asked Javon to help me back downstairs. He did. I needed to get in the bed. My soul was tired. Once he helped me to sit on the bed and handed me tissues to clean my face and nose, he kneeled down to help me take my slippers off.

  “Thank you, son,” I whispered.

  “You’re welcome, Ms. Lily,” he said.

  I petted his shoulder. “She loved you like you was her own, you know that, right?”

  He nodded. “I know.”

  “She tell me lots of times she wish you had come from her womb, you know?”

  He smiled.

  “She knew you was a leader. If we had known the killer came from within . . .” I shook my head. “Listen, I need to tell ya something, all right?”

  He stopped smiling, got serious. A studious look spread across his face. Yes, yes, Mama loved this boy. I smiled. His eyes were weary. Broad shoulders kind of slumped because his body was tired.

  “You listen good, you hear?” I said.

  “Yes, Ms. Lily, I’m liste—”

  Before he could finish, I jabbed a needle in his neck. He fell back. He tried to aim his gun at me, but it fell from his limp hand. I stood and looked down at him as the light dimmed in his eyes.

  “Mama always said, ‘Trust, but verify.’ You didn’t verify, Javon.”

  Chapter 26

  Elias

  Nothing was more gratifying than seeing your plan of action come to life. The plan all along was to initiate a hostile takeover of the Syndicate. That was the only plan. I knew I had to get rid of the leader and it proved to be easier done than said. There was always, always a crack in the foundation. I found it, exploited it. Shit felt so fucking good, it made my dick hard.

  I looked at all my men as we stood, stoic, in an abandoned air field. We were ready for war. I intended to crumble the Syndicate, take it down to its bare minimum and then take over. I already put one member in the ground. Got one on her deathbed and got the others scattering like roaches.

  “Men, as we stand here tonight, we have officially given notice to the Syndicate. We have them running! They attacked us haphazardly. Showed us their hand. Now we know they’re not as ‘official’ as they would like us to believe. We hit every ally they had and yet there’s no real retaliation. They even had infighting while we planned to attacked. They no longer have the Irish in their corner. This is ours for the taking,” I yelled emphatically.

  My men roared with me. Shit was powerful. I had rogue Mexican Cartel members along with rogue members from my parents’ faction. Mamãe and Papai would be proud of me. I looked out at all my men dressed in black fatigues, combat boots. Bulletproof vests were underneath their clothing, scowls now on their faces. Mamãe never did right by Papai’s seat at the table and, now, I would rectify that. He was forced out by Mamãe. She was a crude bitch, but she was deadly. I appreciated her for what she was.

  Javon had her murdered before our plan could come to fruition. Yes, Mamãe had been in on the plan. She told me the inner workings of the Syndicate. That was why I was confident I would run it with an iron fist. Had Claudette not set it up so her mutt son could take over, we wouldn’t have had to go this route. Stupid son of a bitch didn’t even know that he had already done eye for an eye. I killed his slut mother and he in turn took mine out by default.

  I smirked, then slid my hands in my pocket as I walked away, my men behind me in the fields still yelling and ready for war. I headed into the old warehouse, whistling along the way.

  “She’s gone, boss. No sign of her,” one of my men said when I walked inside.

  I grunted. So Melissa had gotten away from me. That annoyed me. Made my asshole constrict. Oh, well. The fact that I took out her whole family would eat that bitch alive until I found her again.

  “The Irish are willing to play ball with this plan, but said they need to be sure you can pull through. They sent soldiers, but expendable ones. They won’t send the true players in until you win this fight,” he said while we walked down the dimly lit hall.

  “Tell me something I don’t know,” I snapped.

  “All the members of the Syndicate have gone under. No sign of them anyway. I think Mr. McPhearson may be on his own.”

  I pushed open the door of the room at the end of the hall. Before stepping into the room, I turned with a sinister smile and said, “We move soon. In a few hours, we take the fight to the Syndicate.”

  I changed out of my fatigues into one of my signature tailored suits. I slipped my feet into a pair of black designer loafers. My men would soon follow suit. Before a fight, I always got some pussy. I needed some pussy before a fight. That was how I’d always been. Even as a teenager, if destiny had set it for me to fight, fate made it so I got pussy beforehand. This would be no different.

  Once outside, I signaled for the twenty men I always had follow me around. We all piled into black-on-black SUVs. We were headed to the best pussy palace in Atlanta, Magic fucking City. I knew what I’d said about black women earlier, but if any man had any sense about him, he’d get the best piece of black pussy he could find before he went to prison, before he got into a fight, before getting married, before any got damned thing that was going to cause him stress.

  Dark-skinned black women, they fucking hated me. I didn’t know why. Fuck those bitches, I thought. But gotdamn it if those bitches didn’t have the best pussy in life. Never had a piece of dark-skinned pussy I didn’t like. Never. Wouldn’t ever marry one of those bitches, though. Couldn’t live with a bitch as dark as me or darker, and I was a pretty black motherfucker.

  I laughed. My men looked at me. They were used to me laughing out loud at odd times. They went back to laughing and talking about whatever they had been talking about. I resumed my thoughts as we rode through the streets of Atlanta. They had so many damn Peachtree Streets. Shit annoyed the fuck out of me.

  The nightlife was alive. I knew the club would be crowded before we got there. It was Monday night. Monday nights at Magic City were like winning the lottery of beautiful pussies. Black women, the best of the best, of all shades and hues lined the stages. I could have had some whores come to us, but I liked chasing my pussy.

  I cursed when we pulled up to the small black, white, and gray building. Cursive blue neon letters spelling MAGIC CITY glowed in the night. All the parking spots in the front of the club were already taken by Maseratis, Bugattis, and other high-end cars. We were late, but oh, well. We still had money to blow. My men paid to park as I exited the truck. All of us dressed like we owned Atlanta. One of my men carried a duffle bag filled with money.

  Just as we were making our way to the door, a homeless cunt pushing a cart bumped into one of my men. He shoved her down while others laughed. She hit one of the trucks, hard. Her face was heavily patched on one side. An eye patch on her left eye. She was the cleanest dirtiest homeless woman I’d ever seen, even down to the wine-colored boots.

  “So sorry,” she cried, then threw her arm up like she was afraid of being struck.

  My men got a kick out of that. I grunted. “Leave her,” I yelled.

  I turned and continued my stroll to the club. The big black bouncers at the door gave us no issues. They knew me by name. When they opened the doors to the club, that lame-ass nigger rapper named Future—or was it 2 Chainz?—was yelling about how all his niggas looked rich as fuck. I swore it was like walking into the Garden of Eden. Money was flying, lights flashing. A DJ who needed to learn how to speak the proper English shouted over the loud speakers about ass and titties. All around me were the most beautiful whores on God’s green earth. My eyes automatically trained on the darkest ones in the club. Asses a-jiggling. Pussies a-popping. Yes, first I’d get some pussy and then, then, I’d go kill Javon McPhearson and take down the Syndicate while at it.

  Chapter 27

  Lucky

  “I’ve sent in the cavalry,” my uncle said on the other end of my phone. “They’ve touched down in Atlanta. All they need is a location.”

  “Waiting on Javon for that,” I said. I looked at the white gauze still wrapped around my arm. I didn’t tell my uncle what had happened between Javon and me. There was no need. We handled it. That didn’t mean I wasn’t still salty about it. I looked out over the Atlanta skyline. The clouds were hanging low, which meant rain was coming.

  “How is he handling this? Is he being the leader we thought him to be?” he asked.

  “It’s hard to call right now. He did tell us that he thinks his sister is behind all of this in some way.”

  There was silence on the other end of the phone. Uncle Luci grunted before demanding, “Explain.”

  I did. I told him everything Javon had told us; then I waited.

  “And what is he doing about these . . . thoughts?”

  “Said he had to find her. Wanted to get her account of what happened,” I said.

  “And then what? How does he plan he handle it once he has her?”

  “He didn’t say. Just asked that if we found her first to bring her to him.”

  I was met with more silence. I could hear the Jew and the priest murmuring in the background. They were discussing it among themselves.

  “Do you trust him?” Absolan asked.

  I nodded once then looked out over the Atlanta skyline again from the penthouse suite I was in. Just as I thought, it had started to sprinkle. I said, “I do. He hasn’t given me reason not to.”

  Cavriel asked, “And the girl?”

  I thought about Shanelle. Thought about the ways she brushed me off. Javon had marked his territory and I had no chance in hell of encroaching on it. It was funny with them. I never saw them showing affection. It always seemed business with them, which was probably why she seemed so available before. I probably owed her an apology, especially after the way I saw she kept my men at bay while Javon and I had “words.” “She’s loyal to him. I never had a chance.”

  “Claudette was loyal to King, but King had his issues. She was loyal to Raphael, but he had his demons. No man is without fault. There will come an opening.”

  “Why do you encourage him to do such things, Luciano?” Absolan asked his friend. “It didn’t work out well for you and Claudette.”

  “Probably why he wishes to live vicariously through his so . . .” Cavriel stopped, then cleared his throat. “Nephew.”

  I ran a hand over the waves in my head as I listened to the old men. “I have no intentions of seeking her out again, Uncle Luci. She made it loud and clear where she wants to be,” I said. “I was only initially supposed to see if she could be swayed so we would know if Javon would let his heart render him unable to lead proficiently.”

  “And did he come after you?” Uncle Luci asked.

  I looked at the wound on my arm again. “No. Well, he did, but not in a manner that would suggest it would cloud his judgment. We talked like men and left it where it was.”

  The Jew and the priest laughed.

  “What’s so funny?” I asked.

  “Your uncle’s nose is crooked thanks to King’s fists,” Cavriel said.

  “And he walks with a limp thanks to Raphael,” Absolan added.

  Both men let out boisterous laughs at the expense of Uncle Luci. He cursed them in Italian; verbally assaulted them with words that would get him killed otherwise, had they not been friends, of course.

  After a while, I hung up the phone. Called Javon’s cell, anxious about what the next move would be, but I got no answer. After another two hours passed with no answer from him, I decided to try Shanelle. I knew she wouldn’t answer, but I tried anyway. I left her a voice mail telling her Javon was supposed to hook up with me hours ago and had yet to call or send any correspondence. I also sent a text just in case.

  I grabbed my holster and pulled my bulletproof vest on. Then I grabbed my two SIG Sauers, placing them in the holsters. If Javon hadn’t come to me, I was going to him. At least that had been the plan, until I opened my suite room door and found a woman there.

  Her face was heavily bandaged on one side. When she pushed back the hood of the jacket she wore, I could see one side of her head had been shaved and she had stitches. Her left eye had a patch, too.

  “How’d you get past my men?” I asked.

  “Don’t worry, I didn’t kill them. Just rendered them unconscious for a few moments.”

  “Who the fuck are you?”

  “Put the gun away. I have something for you,” she said, calm in her voice with an eerie look in her eye.

  For some reason, she looked familiar to me, but I couldn’t place her. She had on all black, something that reminded me of a cat suit, and wine-colored combat boots.

  “I ain’t putting shit away. You have ten seconds to state your business or you’re dead. Ten,” I started counting.

  “I have an address for you,” she said, then held up a picture. The man had dark skin. Long, thick, wavy hair cascaded down to his shoulders. He was tall, about six four in height. Broad shouldered with light brown eyes.

  “Eight.”

  “Magic City.”

  “Six.”

  “The man you’re looking for, Elias, was there.”

  “Was?” I questioned. “Four.”

  “He had about twenty or thirty men at the strip club with him. More scattered throughout the area. He left.”

  “Two.”

  “In a few hours, he plans to attack the Syndicate by going after Javon first. We know where he went when he left.”

  I cocked the handle. “One.”

  As soon as the last number left my mouth, somebody, who I assumed was male by the stature, rounded the corner. He had a Desert Eagle aimed at my left temple. I couldn’t see his face because of the hood of the heavy cloak he had on. The girl took my gun away from me. I raised my hands like I was being robbed. Didn’t want to make any sudden movements.

  “Don’t do it, fam,” he said. “We come in peace. We’re not the enemy. You heard what she said. That address on that picture is where you can find Elias.”