Page 129 of Heavy Is The Crown

Kenyatta’s jaw flexed. “This ain’t the place.”

That made Rico chuckle low, the kind of laugh that had nothing to do with humor.

“Seem like a perfect place to me.”

Nub sat back in his chair, beer in hand, legs stretched out, unmoved. Duke was the same, not flinching, not reacting.

This wasn’t a show for them. They’d seen worse and done worse. Rico was nothing new.

Rico’s gaze flicked toward Nub, a brief, silent acknowledgment. But Nub didn’t nod or blink; this was Kenyatta’s moment.

Rico wasn’t here to cause a scene, but he wasn’t leaving without a direct conversation.

“I dig that,” he mused. “But we both know the clock done ticked out. You drownin’, bruh.”

Kenyatta’s jaw flexed, but he kept his stance relaxed.

“I expect my bread,” Rico continued, voice light. “Matter fact, I expect it sooner than later. ‘Cause you know I don’t do charity cases.”

Then, just because he could, Rico’s gaze drifted left to Krys.

The way she sat in one of those foldable chairs, legs crossed, her whole body screaming unbothered, but her eyes sharp, untrusting, and ready.

Rico cocked his head. “Aw shiiid…What is this?”

He looked back at Kenyatta, grin widening. “So, the rumors must be true. Ain’t she the bitch that’s buying up everything over in Westview Terrace and Southside? Krysta Davis?”

Krys stilled. She had no reaction to that name. She didn’t react. Kenyatta, however, noticed the subtle tension in her shoulders.

Rico turned back to Krys, voice mocking. “That’s you, ain’t it?”

Musa’s growl rumbled low again.

Krys didn’t even turn her head to the dog, just gave the smallest flick of her fingers, and Musa stilled, but remained watching and ready.

Rico grinned. “Ohhh, I get it,” he mused. “Y’all really together, huh? That’s cute. Nigga got him a baddie.”

His tone said otherwise.

Krys took a slow sip of her drink before finally speaking, her voice calm, controlled. “You ask a lotta questions for somebody who ain’t got the range for the answers.”

The air was tense. No one expected for her to challenge him, but they would have her back regardless.

Rico licked his teeth. “That’s funny.”

His gaze flickered to Musa again, and his smirk turned colder.

Musa released a low, rumbling growl built deep in his chest, not aggressive; just informative. A warning to let Rico and anybody else know he wasn’t a pet. He wasn’t for play or looks. If Rico made the wrong move, he’d find out the hard way.

That was the message. Krys didn’t call him off. Didn’t touch him. If Rico was here to start some shit, he needed to know exactly what he was stepping into.

“That’s a big ass dog,” he mused. “Shame if somebody had to put him down.”

That intensified the moment.

Kenyatta stiffened. Nub barely tilted his head, already deciding how this would play out if it went south.

Musa’s growl deepened.

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