Page 131 of Heavy Is The Crown

People were listening now, and the speculation would begin.

Rico smirked. “What’s that about, huh? You tied in with K9 or somethin’ or are you fuckin’ him?”

The tension snapped so tight it was damn near suffocating.

Rico was enjoying this, waiting to see how Kenyatta would react. Because everybody in The Water knew you didn’t just say that name unless you were sure about what you were saying.

Rico let out a sharp laugh under his breath as his eyes shifted to Kenyatta whose lips had pressed into a thin line trying to contain himself, but the tension in his stance didn’t go unnoticed.

“Ohhhhh, that touched a nerve, huh?” He shook his head, his grin turning sharp. “Ain’t that some sht. The same nigga that fed you to the feds? And now you rockin’ with his old work?”

Krys tilted her head slightly. Then, finally, she spoke, her voice cut through the thick air low, steady, and entirely unimpressed.

“That’s what you brought to the table? A half-ass conspiracy and pillow talk? I expected better even from a dusty ass nigga like you.” She said it smooth. Steady. Letting him hear the confidence behind it.

Rico’s smirk faltered for half a second because he heard it.

Krys didn’t stop there. She took a step forward, slow, controlled, tilting her head like she was genuinely disappointed. “You running around with my name in your mouth like a jilted ex, but that don’t make you important. You must be a fan.”

Even Musa, still tense at Krys’ side, let out a low rumble like he knew exactly what she just did.

Rico’s jaw flexed, hands balling into fists at his sides. The smug amusement was gone, his patience thinning fast.

He took a slow step forward, closing that last bit of space between him and Krys, his voice dropping to something more dangerous. “Watch where you step, ma. You real bold wit’ that mouth. But these waters don’t give a fuck what you think you built or who the fuck you think you know.”

Musa’s growl rattled deep.

Krys took a step forward, but Kenyatta caught her wrist before she could move. She glanced back at his expression, understood, and conceded.

Rico smirked at the sight. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

He turned on his heels, nodding at his crew. The Eastside 7 Disciples fell back, drifting toward their cars, still eyeing The War Lords like a fight was still possible.

Steel and Fang didn’t move until Rico was good and gone.

Steel sighed, shaking his head. “Y’all got one more time to fuck up the vibes before I start collecting tax for K9 my damn self.”

Fang laughed. “For real.”

Then, he pointed a thick, inked-up finger at Kenyatta. “And Yatta? You gonna pay that man or not?”

Kenyatta exhaled hard, running a hand down his face. “Man, fuck Rico.”

Steel smirked, nodding slow. “That’s the spirit.”

Then, with a final glance around the crowd, Dem Boyz revved their engines, pulling off one by one.

But even as the tension settled, Kenyatta knew the war wasn’t over.

Kenyatta glanced at Krys, whose energy was still on a hundred.

His own lips quirked slightly. He knew what she did. She played that nigga like he wasn’t even a factor. But what stood out more was the moment when Rico asked about K9; when he questioned if she was tied in. Krys didn’t answer nor did she deny it.

And now he had questions.

Chapter 33

The tension from earlier had faded into the background, lost in the thick summer air and drowned out by the easy laughter of people just enjoying the last stretch of the day.

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