Page 66 of Crown: Phase 3

“No.” Preach leaned back in his chair. “There are more Knights than we thought. A lot more. More than that muthafucka who just left has. I’d bet my last on it. Different chapters, different states, different connections. It ain’t worth the risk.”

Another cough interrupted the room. Loki gripped the edge of the desk until it passed.

“The Feds watching us too. Now ain’t the time for war, Loki.” Preach continued.

“Fuck the Feds.” Loki waved him off. “We have that under control.”

Preach remained unconvinced as Loki leaned forward. “The mob must eat.”

“We already eating.”

“Not enough. With the loss of the Knights, we need to replace that revenue.”

Preach sighed heavily. “This really about money or Crown?”

“Both. Crown made the Dessalinés Mob look weak.”

“He didn’t do shit.”

“Yes, he did.”

Preach shook his head. The situation with Crown wasn’t even something he lost sleep over. Certain events had led to a sour relationship, and that was that. In his mind, there were bigger things to worry about. What mattered to Preach was staying out of prison. If he caught time while his brother was dying, they would lose everything. There was nobody to leave the business to.

“The shit with Crown matters.” Loki told him, already knowing exactly what he was thinking. “Our soldiers watched another man challenge you.”

Another cough escaped him. This one harsher. More violent. When it finally passed, Loki continued.

“Our soldiers then watched that man walk away after that challenge.”

Preach stared.

Loki stared right back.

“As a leader, you must respond, or to them, you look weak. And weakness leads to them not fearing you. Not fearing you leads to disloyalty.”

Preach rubbed his jaw. “Still doesn’t mean we should work with the Ravens.”

“But if we must strike anyway, why not make money doing it?”

Preach fell silent. That part made sense. Money always made sense to him. Still, something about the arrangement bothered him. He wasn’t feeling Gunner. Not even a little bit. Themuthafucka had heart, he’d give him that. Most men would’ve folded with six guns pointed at them and a pistol pressed against their forehead. Gunner hadn’t flinched once. Still, Preach didn’t like him. Maybe it was the color of his skin, or maybe it was his gut.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

BOOM.

Loki slammed his wrinkled hand against the desk, and the force triggered another coughing fit. A bad one. His chest rattled violently.

Preach immediately leaned forward. “Loki—”

The older man held up a hand. Eventually, the coughing stopped. Slowly, he lifted his head. His eyes burned with irritation.

“Midon’t give a fuck what you think.”

Silence filled the room.

Preach sat back, already seeing where this was headed. His brother was stubborn. And whenever he wanted his way, he pulled the leader card, despite the fact that they had both agreed it was best for him to step down because of his illness.

Loki pointed directly at him.

“Don’t ever forget yourself.Mimay be sick, but untilmieyes close for the last time…” He pointed toward his own chest.

“…this mob belongs to me. I’ve sat around long enough hoping you’d come to your senses. But since you haven’t, I’m telling you what to do.Find the Ravens.”

Preach said nothing as Loki’s stare hardened.

“Then find a way to strike. I’m not asking for war, little brother. It can be quiet. Crown’s club won’t know who hit him.” Loki pointed at him. “But our men will. And that’s who matters.”

Preach sighed once more, knowing there was nothing else left to say. Whether he agreed or not, the order had been given.

To be continued…