With no remorse, Crown rose and exited the office, heading down the long hallway and down the steps. When he reached the first floor, his eyes landed on the assistant manager, standing near the bar.
“Henna.” He called.
“Yes, sir?” She answered, admiring his handsome face as he passed by. Crown looked so good that even the bloody knife he held in his hand wasn’t enough to turn her off.
“As of today, you are the only manager of this muthafucka. Understood?”
“Got it. Understood.” She nodded.
With all eyes on him, Crown walked out, leaving Danger and Smoky behind to clean up the mess and restore order.
An hour later, he was back home, calmly working inside his office like nothing had happened… as if he hadn’t just put holes in niggas.
Crown gathered his field notes to draft emails, updating his clients on the progress his company was making at each site. Once he finished, he moved on to the next thing on his task list. There was never a moment when he didn’t have something to do. Any downtime was forced. He grabbed his iPad and Apple Pencil Pro, diving into one of Nivéa’s ideas for her new custom order. He started slowly, getting a feel for how it should look, but it didn't take long to find his groove.
After carefully outlining, Crown began to shade, losing himself in the project for two hours until Nyla’s whimpers pulled him back to reality. While Nivéa had learned to let him be out of respect, Nyla didn’t care. Her cries and coos had become his alarm clock, reminding him when it was time to wrap things up. There were no more late nights trying to catch up with office work after running around the streets all day. Crown didn’t mind, though. Without a second thought, he set the tablet down and headed down the hall.
However, by the time he arrived, Nivéa already had Nyla attached to her chest, feeding her as they lay in bed. Crown stood in the doorway, locking eyes with her as he admired her in mother mode.
Damn. I couldn’t have picked a better woman to marry and carry my baby.He thought.
“Hey, where were you headed?” she asked with a knowing smirk.
Crown chuckled. “You already know.”
“Mmhm, she’s got you and your mama wrapped around her little finger.”
“Facts.”
“I’ve got her. You should go shower and come get in bed, big man.”
Nivéa didn’t have to tell him twice. Crown stepped out of the doorway and crossed the room into the walk-in closet. He unclasped the Cuban chain from around his neck and placed it in one of the velvet-lined drawers, then removed the AP from his wrist and set it beside his other watches. Grabbing a pair of boxers and shorts, he disappeared into the restroom. He showered quickly, washing away his sins, and by the time he returned, Nyla had been fed and was back in the nursery. Nivéa was waiting for him with questions.
“So, why did you have to leave? What happened?” She asked softly.
“The less you know, the better.” Crown answered, tossing his clothes in the hamper.
“Says who? I’d rather not run our shit like that. I’d like to know. Maybe I can help.”
“Nah, you can’t help with this. Trust me.”
“I may not be able to get in the field with you, but I can ease your mind in other ways. I can be a listening ear while you talk it out.”
Crown paused, chuckling. “I don’t need to talk it out, baby. Decisions have already been made, so…”
“Those decisions stick with you, though. I can see the tension every time you try to hide it. My mama always told me and Reesh that built-up emotions ain’t good for nobody. The older I get, the more I understand what she meant. Everyone needs someone to talk to,even the big bad wolf.”
They both fell quiet, staring at each other. Crown could see the genuine curiosity in her eyes; she was finally accepting his lifestyle for what it was. He felt the least he could do was keep it real with her…well, at least to an extent.
“A nigga owes the Knights money. That’s all.”
“Hm…and you intend to collect.”
“Fuckin’ right.” He answered, though part of him hated the consequences he had to dish out.
Crown had done the math on his way home. Rell’s son had just turned twenty. He was young, but Crown had learned long ago you couldn’t be noble running a club. No matter how your reputation preceded you, there would always be someone trying to test you. And at every opportunity, he made sure to remind niggas why the Knights were feared in the first place.
“That wasn’t a question.” Nivéa’s voice mimicked his from the day they met in her shop. “I wasn’t asking. I was saying.”
