Page 66 of A Kingpin's Weakness
I clenched my jaw, knuckles white as I stared at the woman who laid beside him every night. Her eyes were terrified but not surprised.
“Stormi keepin’ that pussy tight for me, I hope.” My heart skipped. That calm I wore like armor cracked, but I caught it before it could spill.
He wanted to provoke me. He wanted to own my anger.
“Should’ve snatched up Lia instead,” he continued, his voice like poison, “Heard she A1… Was A1.”
Next to me, Rich gripped his gun like he was holding back a scream. “Snatching women for pussy, Ronnie? That what it’s come to?” I asked, keeping my tone even, like I wasn’t one second from losing my soul.
I looked the woman in the eyes. She still didn’t flinch. She knew who her husband was.
“So you really did it, huh? You killed my pops. His own best friend.
His right-hand man. The man who wiped my tears when I couldn’t even stand up straight at the funeral. The one who heldmy mother’s hand and prayed with her while her whole world fell apart.
You took him from me. You ain’t just crossed a line, Ronnie, you set fire to everything that ever mattered to me. And now I’m coming for you. Not just with heat. Not just with revenge. I’m coming with everything I’ve been holding in since the moment they zipped up that body bag and my mama broke in half on the church steps.
You should’ve stayed loyal. You should’ve stayed gone. Now ain’t no talking. Ain’t no mercy. Ain’t no walking away. You’re next.
“Laura. End them niggas.” Ronnie’s voice barked through the phone. Laura reached for the pistol stashed in the nightstand.
Pop! Pop! Pop!
We filled her with more bullets than she had seconds. No hesitation.
Southside lit the curtain on fire, tossing the bottle without a word. Everything started to burn bed, bodies, and all the lies they’d built this life on. I stood in the doorway for a second, staring into the flames. This wasn’t about turf because everything in this city belonged to me. This was about Lia.
About Stormi and my pops. About peace I wouldn’t feel until Ronnie’s blood touched the same dirt I buried my father in.
“Jet leaving in an hour,” King said flatly, over the phone.
“I want this nigga.” “Yeah, this fuck nigga gotta go,” Rich and Southside echoed almost in sync, voices cold as steel. I didn’t say shit just gripped the wheel tighter as we pulled away from Ronnie’s spot. I’d already hit every damn house in town trying to find that snake. My next move was catching him in the act with King. The way Ronnie was moving lately, slick and shady, I knew he was plotting. He wasn’t just moving work behind my back. He was trying to take the whole throne.
“We about to load the jet with King. We’ll see Ronnie at the meet,” I told them, eyes straight ahead.
“You sure we can trust this nigga, King?” Southside asked, side-eyeing me from the back.
“I trust him with my life.” My voice didn’t waver. “He ain’t have to come to me about Ronnie, but he did.”
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“I still don’t see why we couldn’t take your jet,” Rich grumbled as we boarded King’s Gulfstream. It was clean. Discreet. All white leather with gold trim. King and I were the same; our lifestyles screamed power, but we kept it silent and humble. The kind that moved behind shadows, not flashing in the light.
I understood why Rich and Southside felt some type of way. We’d known Ronnie since before the streetlights meant curfew. We ran through the game side by side, and yet this whole time, he’d been finessing… quiet, calculated, grimy.
But King? I’d known King just as long. We ain’t grow up together, but we came up in the business around the same time. His loyalty was proven Solid. He could’ve easily pocketed Ronnie’s money and fed both sides me and him. But he didn’t. He stayed ten toes down with me. King knew I was supposed to be the only supplier in my city, and he moved accordingly.
“I don’t need anybody in my business,” I said, settling in. “It needs to look like I’m still in town.”
Rich shook his head. “Nigga, I hope you right about this.”
King walked back toward us after the flight crew finished prep. He sat down across from us and placed his phone on the table. His face was unreadable calm, but locked in.
“Ronnie’s about to call. Don’t blow this,” he said.
Seconds later, an unknown number lit up on the screen.
King answered. “Yeah.”
