Page 12 of Heavy Is The Crown

Kenyatta leaned back, flexing his jaw. Fuck Jay-1, but he wasn’t completely wrong; nor was he completely right. Kenyatta wasn’t trying to be broke forever, but he also wasn’t about to end up right back in a cell, either.

Jay-1 grinned. “Look, I ain’t tryna drag you into shit. We just chillin’ tonight. No work, no plays, just vibes.”

Kenyatta wasn’t dumb; nobody invited you out for “just vibes.”

Jay-1 was testing him. Seeing if prison had changed him. Seeing if he was still that same Kenyatta who moved without hesitation.

Honestly, Kenyatta wasn’t even sure if he knew the answer.

Jay-1 pulled up to The Velvet Room, a high-end lounge sitting in the heart of The Strip. The type of place where money whispered instead of screamed, where only the right people made it past the velvet rope.

Valet didn’t even ask for keys; they just took them like Jay-1 was somebody.

Kenyatta stepped out, adjusting his fresh sneakers and button-up. He wasn’t dressed like money, but he was presentable. Didn’t matter. Jay-1’s money made sure they were getting in.

They skipped the line of hopefuls, walked straight into a room filled with smoke, luxury, and ambition.

The air was thick with the scent of cologne, expensive liquor, and desperation. Women draped themselves over men like living accessories, bottles lined the VIP tables like trophies, and everybody inside had something to prove.

Jay-1 dapped up a dark-skinned dude rocking a Rolex and an even badder chick in his lap.

“Yatta,” Jay-1 said, motioning toward him. “This my guy Vic. He been holding shit down while you was gone.”

Vic looked Kenyatta up and down, then nodded. “Heard about you.”

Kenyatta gave a cool grin. “All good things, I hope.”

Vic chuckled. “Something like that.”

It was all unspoken, but Kenyatta understood what was happening. He was being evaluated. These weren’t just random street dudes. These were men who had money to lose. And when money was involved, respect was currency.

Jay-1 leaned in. “You feeling it yet?”

Kenyatta exhaled. The luxury. The access. The temptation. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t call to him. But then he remembered Kaliyah’s face. That alone reminded him why he wasn’t supposed to be here.

He grabbed a glass from the table, but instead of taking a sip, he set it right back down.

Jay-1 noticed. “You good?”

Kenyatta nodded, voice firm. “Yeah.”

Jay-1 studied him, then smiled with certainty. “A’ight, then.”

The night moved on. Drinks flowed, money moved, connections were made. Kenyatta watched it all. Tempted. But not moved. For the first time in his life, he realized he was done chasing ghosts.

The night had been smooth. Too smooth.

Just when Kenyatta thought he had made it through the night clean, Jay-1 leaned in. “Aye, we gotta roll.”

Kenyatta frowned. “What? We just got here.”

Jay-1 checked his phone, then clapped hands with Vic. “I got something I need to take care of.”

Something in Jay-1’s tone made Kenyatta’s instincts flare.

Jay-1 was too calm, and at the same time too rushed. That meant whatever was happening was serious.

Kenyatta exhaled. “This ain’t some dumb shit, is it?”

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