He would check it later. His focus at that moment was the show. People were running all over the place, and he stood back and watched as artists were getting in the zone, lighting was being fixed, and people were lined up at the door.

  “My nigga, this shit looks fucking insane,” Ty marveled. “It’s crazy. Bruh, this is you.”

  “Yeah, man,” Tank agreed, looking around.

  He was making sure that people were doing what they were supposed to do. He noticed several men with guns standing around. With a concert this big, he needed as many off-duty police officers and sheriffs as he could get. Plus, he had a few has his own people holding it down.

  He and Ty headed backstage, and Martaveous went into work mode to ensure his artists were good. He spent the next hour answering questions and giving orders before Genese texted him, telling him that she had arrived. When he and Ty walked to the front, he saw she wasn’t by herself. She was with a nigga that looked familiar to him. He stared and realized he had met him awhile back when he and Genese had first got together.

  “Hey, baby,” she cooed, walking up to him and kissing him.

  “What’s up?” he said, hugging her.

  She gave him a peck on the lips and stepped back so he could see her look.

  “I brought my fam if it’s okay?” she questioned.

  “Yeah, it’s straight,” he said, still staring at her.

  She was rocking a jumpsuit that was so tight on her that it looked like it had been painted on.

  “You remember Martaveous, right?” she said, turning to her cousin.

  “Hey, wassup?” her cousin mumbled.

  “Wassup? Ay, this my boy, Ty,” Tank introduced.

  “What up?” Ty spoke.

  They dapped each other up, and Tank noticed how his boy was watching her cousin.

  Why the fuck this nigga keep looking off?

  “Baby, where’s the bathroom?” Genese suddenly interrupted. “I need to go wash my hands.”

  Tank pointed to the other side of the stage, and she headed in that direction.

  “I’ma make a call real quick,” her cousin said, walking off.

  Ty kept his eyes on him until he was out of earshot. “Nigga, why that nigga acting like he don’t know you?” he questioned.

  “What you talking ’bout?” Tank frowned.

  Ty stopped Tank and nodded toward Genese’s cousin. “Nigga, ain’t that David? That nigga that your moms took in a while back?” he asked.

  Tank stood thinking and watching the man walk off and thinking back to all the kids his mother had taken in. Ty was right. He remembered a kid named David that had been there for a bit. From what he could recall, the nigga was off in the head. He was always trying Tank, and Tank had to put him on his ass every time.

  “Why the fuck that nigga act like he don’t know you?” Ty went on. “That nigga know exactly who the fuck you are. Why didn’t he say shit?”

  “I’on know.” Tank shrugged, watching him. But he was about to find out. “Ay, hold on a minute. Let me check something.”

  He walked off away from Ty and called Fendi. He needed to get some info and fast. He studied David’s behavior while he waited for his boy to answer. There was something about the way he was standing that had him feeling alert.

  Suddenly, everything hit him like a ton of bricks. He had seen that stance in his own damn house—the night he had gotten jacked. And he was looking at the nigga that did it.

  “Yo, I’m on the way there now, my nigga. I’ll be there in about five minutes,” Fendi answered.

  “Ay. I need you to do something before you get here.” Tank spoke, keeping his eyes on David.

  “Wassup?”

  Tank told him the name and the description. Fendi assured him that he would handle it before hanging up. He stood trying to piece things together and was furious about how he didn’t see it sooner. Genese’s cousin was the same nigga that had come for him in his own shit, and no doubt had run up in his traps.

  Genese.

  Two-Shots was her cousin. He remembered meeting him the day they were at the mall and how she seemed like she was trying to avoid him.

  “Yo, what the fuck?” he mumbled, coming to the realization.

  Genese knew where his traps were and knew damn near everything about them. His mind was racing.

  This bitch set me up.

  “You good?” Ty asked, approaching him.

  “Yeah,” he nodded slowly.

  But he wasn’t okay. Everything in him was telling him that the one bitch he gave a fuck about and opened up to had set him up. And if his assumptions were correct, he was going to have a lot of blood on his hands.

  Confused, Ty was looking at his boy. He didn’t know what was wrong with him, but he looked crazy. He just figured that he was stressed or nervous from his big night, so he left it alone.

  Tank looked to see Genese walking toward them, and his blood started boiling.

  This bitch is behind this shit.

  It was all making sense. The traps getting hit, and the niggas knowing exactly where to go. The club getting robbed—everything. He had never thought about it until that moment. Once he got the info he needed from Fendi, it was a wrap.

  “Babe, I am so excited for you,” Genese squealed, grabbing him. “Where’d my cousin go?”

  “He down there. He said he had to make a phone call or something,” Tank told her.

  “Oh, okay,” she answered, looking agitated. “Do you need anything?”

  “Nah,” he shook his head. “I’ma go handle some business and get ready. Y’all go ahead.”

  “Okay,” she smiled, kissing him on the cheek.

  She walked off, and he watched her. He hoped that she had nothing to do with it. He fucked with her the long way, but he wouldn’t hesitate to body her if she crossed him. His phone buzzed again, and anticipating Fendi’s call, he looked to see it was the alarm company again notifying him of motion detected. Opening the text, he scrolled through the messages to see notifications from a few nights ago that there was heavy movement when he wasn’t home.

  Curiosity getting the better of him, he opened the footage and got all the confirmation he needed. Genese wasn’t who he thought she was. But he was going to show her who he was.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  April 2019

  “Ay, yo, this shit lit than a muthafucka, boi.”

  “Man, hell yeah, my nigga. Money on top of money.”

  “Yo, you got everybody in Miami up in this bitch,” Ty observed.

  “You already know, boi. Ain’t no other way to do this shit. Welcome to Club 305.” He nodded, feeling like a giant.

  Tank looked through the two-way mirror in his office at the dance floor below, seeing how packed it was. The deejay was playing some of the latest bangers blaring through the speakers on the first and second floor. The sight of all the people dancing in his club after the concert, packed wall to wall, brought a smile to his face because he knew a lot of money was being made.

  There wasn’t much room for folks to walk around on either floor. But that’s exactly how he liked it. Girls were being wild, blaming it on the liquor, showing off their bodies and shaking their asses. And where the hoes were, the niggas weren’t too far behind. They were all over, thirsty as hell, trying to get the attention of any broad who would look their way. The bar was packed, and the bartenders were busy making money. And all of this was because of Tank.

  On a hot July night, just about every club on the strip was getting lit, but Club 305 was on a whole other level. It was a four-alarm fire. Martaveous Young a.k.a. Tank had made it happen all on his own. He was definitely reaping the rewards of all his hard work.

  At the age of 32, he had accomplished what many had only dreamed about. He had gone from being a corner boy on the block to one of the most prominent entrepreneurs in the city. No matter where you went, “Tank” was coming out of somebody’s mouth, from corner boys to the mayor. Everyone knew him, and yet, everyone didn’t. The fact that Genese could try to play him had him tripping. But in due time, he would get his answers.

  He turned around and looked at a few of the niggas counting and bagging work in the corner. To his left, some of his close right hands worked the machines counting his money. The club would serve many purposes for him. He threw some of the hottest parties, and it gave him an opportunity to have his artists perform. But the biggest thing was moving his work unnoticed. At least, for the time being. He knew he had eyes on him, and he needed to figure out how to move. Pushing his weight through the club, he could keep a watchful eye. Nobody was taking shit from him. They could try, but it would be over his dead body.

  He continued to look out over the damn near 2,000 people in the club as the sound of the money machine buzzed in the background, counting the racks of cash he had just flipped.

  He was watching the bartenders busy at their stations trying to fulfill multiple orders at a time when he saw Genese walking through the club. She made her way through the crowd to his office, and every person that she passed turned and stared. Tank’s eyes were also glued to her. It was as if she were floating.

  Her skintight liquid catsuit hugged her body so tight that it looked as if that bitch were painted on. Long Peruvian bundles hung down her back in loose body wave curls, and her makeup was done up to accentuate her gorgeous face. He could see her long, red nails that could pass for a weapon.

  “Damn,” he said to himself, watching her the entire way. He had to admit, she looked bad as hell. He wanted to remember her just like this.

  She made her way up the stairs, and a few minutes later, someone knocked at the door.

  He grinned, looking at the video monitor on one of the big screens, and nodded to his security that it was cool for entry.

  The door opened, and she walked in, demanding attention from everyone in the room. She stepped in, and the door closed behind her.

  “Hey, baby,” she purred, walking over to him.

  “Hey,” he said, sizing her up and down, grabbing a handful of her ass, and pulling her to him before kissing her.

  “Nine hundred fifty thousand,” his boy Fendi spoke up, interrupting his conversation.

  He turned to look at him and quickly let her go, a frown forming on his face before making his way toward Fendi and the machine.

  “How the hell it’s only $950,000?” he snapped. “That shit supposed to be one mil even, partna.”

  Fendi looked at Tank and shook his head. “Yo, I’m telling you that’s what it’s showing,” he told him. “I counted it twice to be sure.”

  Tank sighed, rubbing his temple.

  “This muthafucka,” he mumbled, pacing the floor for a few minutes before finally stopping. “Run it through again. That shit ain’t it.”

  Fendi nodded and went back to the machine to do what was asked. He didn’t dare argue with Tank. Not when he was pissed off. And after everything that Tank had found out, he was surprised his boi was as calm as he was. But things were going according to the plan, and that’s what mattered.

  “Baby, is everything okay?”

  “Yeah,” he nodded. Tank looked at her and was disgusted. She seemed so innocent. “Yo, I got a surprise for you.”

  “Really?” she said, her face lighting up.

  “Yeah. Why don’t you come downstairs,” he suggested. “It’s parked in the back.”

  She squealed with excitement as Tank took her hand, guiding her down the steps.

  She stopped. “Wait a minute. I got to tell my cousin where I’m at so he doesn’t worry. He’s at the bar.”

  “Don’t worry. You’ll be right back,” he assured her. “Come on.”

  He grabbed her hand and walked her downstairs through the club. People were stopping him and congratulating him as he made his way to the back door. Genese was clueless about what was happening, but she was hype and enjoying the benefits of being Tank’s girl.

  They continued to struggle their way through the crowd, and despite the task at hand, Tank knew that the club was a hit from what he saw. But he couldn’t celebrate just yet. He had a few loose ends to tie up.

  They made it out the back door, and Genese looked around.

  “Okay, what am I looking for?” she asked, confused.

  “A’ight. I told you I got you something,” he grinned.

  “Okay. Well, where is it?” she said eagerly.

  They were standing at one of the side entrances of the club in the alley, and she was bouncing around like a kid. Nothing was there except for a van.

  “Right over there.” He motioned toward the van.

  She looked in the direction of the van, still confused.

  “Huh?” she said.

  The doors opened to the back of the van, and she saw her cousin Two-Shots sitting tied up. Genese’s mouth dropped open, and she starter stammering.

  “Bl-Tank-baby—”

  “You didn’t think I wasn’t gonna figure the shit out?” he spat. “You brought the nigga in my face and had him in my shit. Two-Shots, right?”

  He looked at Two-Shots, who was struggling to get free, and Genese looked as if she had seen a ghost.

  “Martaveous, baby. Wait—”

  “Save it,” he stopped her.

  Before she could say anything else, two of his boys came and snatched her, throwing her in the back of the van and slamming the door.

  “What you want us to do?” one of them asked.

  Fendi came outside, stood next to Tank, and spoke up.

  “Take them to the cleanup spot,” Fendi ordered. “And don’t let this ho out of your sight.” He turned to Tank and gave him a nod. “I got what you asked for.”

  The two men nodded in understanding, hopped into the van, and took off.

  Tank looked around, ready to find out what other info his boy had.

  “Let’s head back inside,” he told him.

  “A’ight. Bet.”

  He headed back inside to finish his business there. He needed Martaveous Young to be there that night. He had people that saw him as a businessman and entrepreneur. But once his business was handled, Tank was going to show up and shut it down.

  For good.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  July 2019

  “What’s going on? Tank, please. What are you doing? Where am I? Untie me.”

  Tank was standing across from Genese, who was tied to a chair next to her cousin. He had them brought to his cleanup spot about twenty miles away from his club in the middle of nowhere. She was crying and pleading for him to let her go. Meanwhile, Two-Shots was tied up and bleeding profusely. He had thought about doing the same to her, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. The only thing saving her was the fact that she was a female. But he could do it to her cousin.

  “You really thought that you could play me, huh?” he said.

  He was leaning against an empty table in the room. Only he, Fendi, and Armani were present, but he had his boys outside ready for whatever he needed.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Genese cried. “Martaveous, just please untie me. We can talk about it whatever it is, I promise you. Look, I didn’t do anything.”

  “Really?” he said. “Because videos never lie.”

  He pulled out his cell phone and opened up the video footage that showed her snooping throughout his house. When he initially saw the video, he was floored. There it was—his girl—going through his entire house and looking through his shit. He thought maybe he was tripping at first, but watching her open his safe, looking at his paperwork, and taking money, well, he knew what it was. Then to find out her own cousin robbed him and shot him infuriated him. No one knew what was going on in the streets because it was going on right under his nose.

  He turned the phone around, showing her the proof, and her eyes got big as she started to stammer.

  “B-Bl-baby, it’s not what you think.”

  “It’s not what I think?” he mocked. “So, that’s not you? Huh? That’s not you in my fucking safe? You jacked my shit and got me out here in the streets chasing after niggas and shit. You and your punk-ass cousin didn’t set me up?”

  “Nooo,” she screeched. “I didn’t want to do this. He made me.”

  Armani stood beside Tank and rolled his eyes. “Yo, please, let me pop this bitch,” he muttered.

  “Nah, not yet.” Tank shook his head.

  “Baby, I swear, I didn’t want to. But he told me that if I didn’t, that I was going to pay for it. He’s crazy,” she pleaded.

  “So you gave him everything, huh?” he questioned. “You told him about my traps. You had him come to my crib. This nigga jacked my shit and shot me in my own muthafuckin’ spot, and you acting like you gave a fuck and shit—and yet, you was behind it the whole damn time. And then you parade him in my face like I’m stupid. So, what’s up, David?” he said, turning his attention to her cousin. “You still a hating-ass nigga, huh?”

  He leaned forward, getting within inches of Two-Shot’s face. Two-Shots smirked and spat at him.

  “Nigga, fuck you,” he growled.

  Tank stood up and swung, connecting his fist with David’s jaw, causing him to groan in pain.

  “Nah, fuck you, muthafucka.”

  “You know this nigga?” Fendi asked.

  “Yeah,” Tank nodded. “Back when I was staying with Ma. Remember I told you she used to take in kids and everything. David was one of them. He was a bitch then like he is now. Li’l nigga used to try me all the time, and I laid his ass out. Now, the muthafucka wanna try to come at me like I ain’t gon’ body his ass.”

  “Wait . . .” Genese spoke up, putting the pieces together and looking at her cousin. She remembered him saying he knew about Tank, but he never told her that he knew him. “Is that why you did this? You knew him already? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I don’t need to tell you shit,” her cousin spat. “You was supposed to just shut the fuck up and play your part. Yeah, I knew exactly who he was. This nigga walking around here acting like he the shit. Thinking he fucking John Gotti or some shit. Acting like he run the fuckin’ city. That nigga ain’t no better than me, but out here, got my muthafuckin’ people acting like he the shit. So, yeah, I was gon’ take his ass out. What? You want me to apologize? Well, fuck you, nigga. I ain’t apologizing for shit. You can kiss my ass.”