Page 67 of A Kingpin's Weakness
“Hey King, it’s Ronnie,” came that familiar, snake-slick voice.
“Yeah.”
“Trying to see if we still on for tomorrow night?”
“That depends on if you have my money.”
“That’s not a problem.”
“Then the meeting is on.”
“So, am I meeting with you or Pops? 'Cause his people told me to call you.”
King didn’t miss a beat. “And I just told you the meeting was on.”
“Okay... can we keep this between us? I don’t need Seth in my business.”
Hearing my name out that coward's mouth had me grinding my teeth so hard my jaw popped. I kept still, but the rage was building fast.
“You worried about the next man,” King said calmly, “when you need to make sure your money and business is right.” Then he hung up. Just like that.
Silence settled over us after the call. No one spoke. We didn’t need to. The betrayal, the heat, the anticipation… it all hung in the air like smoke.
Ronnie was flying into enemy territory Rico’s stomping grounds, King’s right-hand. And if everything went right, tomorrow, Ronnie was gonna see what it felt like to burn.
“So glad we can finally do business together. Always wanted to work with your family.” I heard Ronnie’s voice before I even stepped inside. Smooth. Confident. Like he owned every inch of this cold-ass warehouse.
That line stung, like a slap across my face I didn’t see coming. Working with my family? Funny how words can twist, turn, and stab when the truth’s been buried beneath years of lies.
I stepped in, letting my presence hang heavy in the air, letting Ronnie feel the weight of everything I was carrying. All the betrayal, the anger, the blood that tied me to this moment. Behind me, Rich and Southside trailed, their bodies pulsing with heat and tension. I could feel it their fury, barely held back, ready to snap loose.
“Seth.” His voice was cracked like a scared kid trying to sound hard.
“In the flesh.”
“You niggas set me up.”
I shook my head, low and steady. “Nah, you set yourself up.”
Southside flexed, muscles coiled like a panther about to pounce. But before he could move, Rich stepped forward and slammed the butt of his gun into Ronnie’s face. Hard. The way his body hit the floor looked final, no theatrics, no second chances.
I looked at Rich and the man was out of his mind, but I couldn’t blame him. Ronnie had taken from us all in ways we couldn’t even explain. The kind of pain that didn’t just leave bruises, it left scars on the soul.
“We would love to stay and watch the show, but I know you three got it covered. I have some business to handle. Catch up with you later.”
“Later,” I said, voice rough, heavy with what was coming.
King and Rico gave us a nod, dapped us up, and slipped out the warehouse like ghosts. I sent Southside to lock the doors behind them. The last thing I needed was an unexpected audience. This was our moment. Our reckoning.
My hands were steady, but my heart wasn’t. I wrapped the cold steel chains around my fingers like rosary beads, as if theycould save me from what I was about to do. “Let’s get his body lifted,” I muttered, voice low like the weight in my chest.
Rich and Southside stepped in without a word, the silence between us loud with memory, with pain. They grabbed the chains and clamped them around Ronnie’s arms and legs limp. His head lolled to the side like he was just sleeping, but I knew better. There wasn’t no peace in that man. Not anymore.
I bent down, slid my arms under his back, and lifted. My muscles strained, not just from his weight, but from everything that came with it: regret, rage, and the cold kind of sorrow that made your throat burn.
“Hey, Ronnie, I see them niggas left.”
The voice came from the shadows, slick and familiar. Mike. Of course it was him. Right-hand to the man who used to sit at the table with me. I felt it in my gut before I saw his face he wasn’t far. He never was not when money was on the line. Not when blood was in the air. I didn’t flinch. Didn’t give him a chance to get one step closer.
