Page 6 of DOM: The Miami King

“I didn’t think I needed protection!” she snapped. “How the hell did anyone even know I was here?!” I could see the confusion and fear in her eyes although she tried to hide it.

I didn’t bother to answer. Instead, I just grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her toward the Maybach.

She tried to resists for about half a second. “You don’t get to man handle me…”

“Fuck you mean? I do when bullets flyin’, now move!” I shoved her privileged ass into the backseat and slammed the door before walking off to one of the burning vans. Tone yelled out of the window asking me where the fuck I was going but I ignored him. If muhfuckas were gon’ be shootin’ at me and shit, I needed to know they were dead. He knew how I got down and he also knew what else to do. Watch my fuckin’ back.

Brickell was supposed to be pretty with flashy lights, muhfuckas talkin’ money, and palm trees swaying like shit was sweet. Not right now though, because at this moment, it smelled like blood, hot metal, and a stupid muhfucka losin’ his life. I stood over dude watching him drown in his own blood. The Glock in my hand was heavy and my adrenaline was pumping like a drum.

From a distance, I could see one was already dead, but the one right in front of me, he was still masked up, but that ain’t hide the fear pouring out his body. I could smell it as he crawled and scratched at the concrete like he could outrun death if he moved fast enough. He rolled over on his back, as his chest heaved up and down while trying to speak but all that came out was a wet gurgle. I stared down at him feeling the edge of my lip twitch as a sly smile appeared.

“You picked the wrong fuckin’ King to play with.” I raised the Glock and squeezed without a second thought.

That chest shot folded his ass up like a rag doll as his body began twitchin’, and his mouth still tried to form words that he wouldn’t be able to finish ‘cause I’d just made sure of that. I stepped closer, lettin’ my Timbs scrape the concrete slow. I looked him dead in his eyes right through that black mask.

“Nah, ain't no prayin’ yo’ way up outta this one my boy.” I hissed pullin’ the trigger again.Boom!

I shot him right between the eyes watchin’ his body jerk one last time like a lil bitch. The crimson red blood splattered across the sidewalk. I stood over his body, watching him twitch out them last death spasms, without feeling shit at all…. no mercy. I hawked up and spit right on his face, lettin' the disrespect sink deeper than the bullet wounds while sending a direct message. “Pussy ass nigga," I said under my breath.

I tucked the Glock back in my waistband and straightened my hoodie, my heart was still beating slow and steady, like the ruthless muhfucka they all knew me to be. I ain’t look back to see if anybody saw. I just walked off into the night, knowing Miami was gon’ remember what happens when you crossedDominic Royal. I didn’t leave no room for second chances… nah, I finished shit.

After I jumped back in the Maybach beside Victoria, Tone was already peelin’ off before I could slam the door good, glidin’ smooth down the block while shit was left burning behind us. The bullet holes in the trunk, along with shattered glass raining down followed us as well.

“You good?” I finally asked her.

She acted like she didn’t want to answer at first. Her hands were visibly shaking, but her face was stone cold, and I saw right through that shit. “I’m fine,” she mumbled. Then she chuckled. “You shoot good... for a driver.”

“Keep talkin’ like that, you gon’ find out what else I do good.” I replied without givin’ it much thought. I wanted to stuff this bitch in the trunk and park this muhfucka at the Port Everglades. She already had us dodgin’ bullets and shit.

Her eyes met mine. “You enjoy this shit, don’t you?”

I slightly cocked my head. “Nah, Ilivethis shit.”

The whip fell silent as the Maybach hummed low through the streets. “Who were they?” she finally asked.

“El Dorado,” I replied. “Or somebody tryna earn stripes using their name. Either way, you got a price tag on yo’ head, baby girl. This ain’t the fuckin’ spa, this is war.” I informed her. The last time Miami had a war the Davinchi sisters from the Davinchi Cartel were tearin’ shit up.

She slowly nodded her head realizing this wasn’t just a threat, she was on a fuckin’ countdown, and she’d just become the most valuable, and most dangerous asset in Miami. The Maybach cruised through the underground garage; the bullet holes were fresh like new scars. The concrete surroundin’ us was cool and silent, and much different than the bullshit scenery we’d just left behind. Victoria didn’t speak the whole ride… good. She just sat in the backseat with her arms crossed tight over her chest, and her legs tucked under her. Tone parked in my private space and turned the engine off with a flick like we were just comin' back from brunch, instead of duckin’ death.

“You gon’ let her in yo’ main spot?” he asked, with an eyebrow raised.

“Temporarily,” I said. “Until I figure this shit out.”

He just nodded, chewing a toothpick, with the .45 still in his lap. “Betta hope she don’t snore.”

I didn’t laugh ‘cause my mind was movin’ too fast. We stepped into the private elevator that led straight into my penthouse. We didn’t need no keycard, no buttons, or no scans. Security was so tight around this muhfucka it made a prison jealous. The doors slid open exposing the panoramic view of Miami’s midnight skyline all lit up like the city refused to sleep. The penthouse had black marble floors, matte gold fixtures, and art that cost more than most folks’ cribs did.

Victoria stepped in and paused at first before her heels clicked against the marble as she took it all in. The space was modern, but beautiful, yet it was cold a lot like me. “Nice,” she said with a hint of sarcasm. “Looks like Batman lives here.”

“Nah, this better, that nigga Batman is broke.”

She dropped her bag on the island and turned to face me, with her arms folded. I could see she was about to get on my fuckin’ nerves with this spoiled shit. “So… you gonna talk to me now? Or you only communicate when people start shooting again?”

I leaned against the counter and glared into her eyes with a stone-cold look. “Right now, all you need to know is you safe.”

“That ain’t enough,” she said, steppin’ forward. “People don’t try to assassinate me in broad daylight because ofnothing. Why did my uncle send me here in the first place? What the fuck is going on? Who were they? How did they know where I was?”

“Victoria…”

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