Page 127 of Heavy Is The Crown

Krys, posted up in the cut, casually sipping on a drink, had been listening the whole time. She knew how this city worked, knew that every major shift started with conversations like this.

However, what had her attention the most was Kenyatta and how the way his jaw flexed, his grip on his drink tightening just slightly. Something was on his mind.

Duke leaned back in his seat, nursing his drink, but his eyes weren’t relaxed.

“Aye, we gotta talk about what happened to Jay-1,” he said, voice low.

Benzo scoffed. “Ain’t shit to talk about. That was a Trinity Trick if I ever seen one.”

A quiet settled amongst them with the sound of family, friends, and fun going on in the background.

Kenyatta, who had been playing it cool all evening, lifted his head slightly. “Jay-1 say that?”

Duke and Benzo shared a glance. Nub was the one who answered. “Nigga, Jay-1 barely saying anything. That’s how you know it’s bad.”

Kenyatta exhaled slow. Jay-1 never shut up so that told him everything he needed to know.

Benzo leaned forward. “Bruh, you know how this go. New niggas try to move in, think they can play the Bay like some tourists, and getting bold ‘cause they don’t respect the city like we do.”

Duke nodded, his expression unreadable. “Word is, they tested Jay-1 ‘cause they thought he was an easy mark.”

Kenyatta let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Ain’t shit ‘bout Jay-1 easy.”

“Exactly,” Nub muttered. “Which means they ain’t move on him solo. They got weight behind ‘em. Somebody with real Midtown Money.”

Kenyatta’s fingers tapped against his cup. “Y’all sound like y’all tryna solve a murder.”

Benzo smirked. “And you sound like a nigga tryna act like he ain’t got a horse in this race.”

Krys, still sipping her drink, glanced over. She wanted to see how Kenyatta would respond; would he step back intoThe Wateror stay on the shore?

Kenyatta chuckled again, but this time there was no humor in it. “‘Cause I don’t.” His voice was low, even. “I love Jay-1, but I ain’t drownin’ for nobody.”

Duke nodded slow, understanding. “That’s fair. But you better believe this ain’t gon’ stay just Jay-1’s problem.”

Kenyatta already knew that. This was Bay shit now and The Water was getting deeper by the second.

Before Kenyatta could respond, the mood changed again. The kind of change that made people stop mid-drink, mid-convo, and casually check where they left their pieces.

Krys saw it before she even turned around. Musa felt it too. That deep, guttural growl, a warning straight from the gut of a predator. His ears perked, his massive frame tense.

A black Escalade, followed by a couple of other flashy vehicles, crawled up like a hearse moving slow on funeral grounds. Slick, polished, sitting high on Forgiatos, reflecting the late afternoon sun off its dark tint like a rolling omen.

Kenyatta’s shoulders squared.

Duke adjusted the grip on his belt.

Nub casually spat over his shoulder. “Ready for this bullshit.”

Even Tez, always playing, stopped running his mouth.

The driver killed the engine, and the passenger door opened.

Rico stepped out.

Chapter 32

One moment, the Juneteenth celebration was all good vibes with grills sizzling, bass-heavy music weaving through the air, kids sprinting across the grass with sticky fingers and loud laughter.

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