Everything felt calm… until it wasn’t. Ten minutes later, his burner began to vibrate in his pocket. Nivéa glanced over at him, but when she saw him ignore it, she did too. They resumed their conversation, but the phone rang a second time. Crown let it go again. By the third ring, Nivéa stopped walking.
“Answer it, baby. It’s okay.” She said, reaching for Nyla.
“Nah, I’ll call back once we’re home.”
Nivéa shook her head, placing Nyla in the carrier strapped to her chest. “No, you’ll answer now. I’m sure it’s important. It always is.”
Crown sighed, casting another glance at them, hesitant. But then Nivéa smiled at him and caressed his beard, assuring him everything would be okay between them if he took the call. Suddenly, everything felt okay for Crown. He gestured for her to sit on a nearby bench while he answered.
“Sup, Lock?” He said, his eyes never leaving Nivéa and Nyla.
“Sup, need a word wit’ ya.”
“About?”
“Just came from Rell’s spot. Money short again.”
Crown’s nostrils flared. “What he say?”
“Said it was another slow week.”
“And what you say?”
“I say he’s full of shit, but before I put that fire to his ass, I wanted to check in first.”
Crown got quiet, taking in the situation. Lock handled the club’s money, every dollar that came in or went out touched his hands first. He wasn’t just good with numbers; he was wired for it. Back in school, he was the one teachers bragged about…sharp, quiet, always ahead. The type who could’ve been something legit if life had gone differently.
Crown’s father picked up on it. They went to school together, same grade level, same math class, and he saw it early. He recognized how Lock moved, how his mind worked. Said in another life, the nigga would’ve been an accountant or maybe even a financial advisor.
But Lock chose the streets.
He chose the Knights over going off to college. So, when Crown’s father took over, he put Lock where he belonged…over the money. The Treasurer.
Crown trusted him just as much as Ahmad Sr. did. So, if Lock said something was off, then it was off.
“Aight, don’t worry ‘bout it. I’ll handle it.”
Without another word, Crown ended the call.
Chapter Four
Crown pulled up in front of the lounge, killing the throttle. Behind him, Danger and Smoky rolled in, parking their bikes.
For a moment, Crown just sat there, helmet still on, dark eyes scanning the entrance. The neon sign flickered against the night, painting colorful light across the pavement and the crowd gathered outside. As usual, it was busy. People lined up as music spilled through the doors, which made it hard to believe anything Rell had been saying lately about business slowing down.
Crown hopped off his bike, pulling his helmet off slowly while still watching. This spot was a goldmine. Rell had come up with something different, not just your average strip club but an upscale gentleman’s lounge. A place where money flowed in more ways than one. Sections were filled with patrons enjoying drinks, dancers captivating their audience, and if you knew how to move, other business got handled, too. The idea was solid. The problem was Rell lacked the power to hold it down.
When he first opened, it didn’t take long for pressure to come. Niggas tried to tax him just for existing in certain territory. Big-time dope dealers and gang members came through, getting out of line with the girls. Random muthafuckas thought they could do whatever they wanted because they didn’t respect who was behind the place. Even the police had started circling, looking for a reason to shut him down. Rell had hired security, but that wasn’t enough. His security were bitches.They checked IDs and broke up fights, but they couldn’t control everyone rowdy in the room, and they damn sure didn’t control the streets.
But Crown did… the Knights did.
Crown remembered the first night he came through with Danger, Smoky, and Lil Mo. One walk-through was all it took. He peeped every little thing: the money, the traffic, and the lack of control. A nigga like him stayed watching, always thinking of new ways to bring in more money. So, he sat down with Rell and made his move.
The Knights brought structure, presence, and protection. Not just from people, but from problems before they even started. Because he had Pete on payroll, Crown even had the cops looking the other way when they sensed more than legal activity was happening inside the establishment. Rell kept the doors open and business flowing. In return, he paid his fee to the Knights and moved product quietly through the spot for them. Niggas loved to get high and fuck. It had been running smoothly ever since their sit-down. Until now. Until Rell claimed there was an issue with business flow.
Like Lock, Crown wasn’t buying his bullshit. He started toward the entrance, with Danger and Smoky falling in behind him. Something was off with this nigga Rell, and he was determined to find out what.
As soon as they stepped inside, heads turned. Men nodded in respect. Women paused mid-motion, some already making their way over. Crown lifted his hand slightly, the diamonds on his wrist glistening as they caught the light.
