I saw the risk plain as day. The problem was, I wasn’t the one calling the shots…yet. I never trusted the nigga. It was Pops who kept vouching for him, talkin’ ‘bout how the numbers always lined up and every dollar was accounted for.
As if clean books automatically meant clean hands.
“You got that look again,” Pops said, snapping me out of my thoughts.
“What look?”
He raised an eyebrow and pointed his cigar in my direction. “ThatI'm about to outsmart the ruleslook.”
A smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth. “I’m not trying to outsmart anything. I’m just… thinking.”
“Son, I’ve known you your entire life. I wiped your butt when you were a baby. I taught you how to drive, how to tie a tie, and how to be a man. I even watched you get your first heartbreak. When you’rethinking, you tap your fingers. When you’re plotting, you get quiet.”
I immediately stopped rubbing my jaw.
“Case in point,” he said. “But thinking doesn’t move anything forward, son, all it does is buy you more time… and you’ve already wasted enough of that. Merge, you’re the heir. You’ve earned your place through blood and loyalty. But this position isn’t something you inherit; it’s something youcomplete. You know that.”
I exhaled slowly. “I know, Pops.”
“Then you also know it’s not a suggestion, it’s law.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “What ever happened to that girl you were messing around with back here?”
I frowned. “What girl?”
Truth was, I didn’t knowwhothe hell he was talking about. I dealt withplentyof women, but only for convenience, nevercommitment. I wasn’t the settling type. I treated encounters with females like meetings: I showed up, handled what I came for, and left before emotions started asking questions. And if any woman I fuckedevermet my family, it happened during an outing, never by invitation.
“The one you described as ‘a lot’,” he clarified.
Zonnique.
No doubt, she was bad as hell, but her ass was toxic as jet fuel with a short fuse. That girl had a way of bringing hell to breakfast like it was on the menu, then would look at me as if I was the arsonist. Just the thought of her was enough to ruin a perfectly good mood.
“You talkin’ ’bout Zonnique?” I asked, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear him confirm it.
“Yeah… her.” The corner of his mouth twitched with amusement. “She still around?”
“Yeah… like a subscription I forgot to cancel,” I muttered. “Why you ask, though?”
“Could you see yourself marrying her?”
I leaned farther back in my chair, putting distance between myself and the question.
“Absolutely thefucknot. Marrying that girl would be choosing chaos on purpose.” That thought alone made me grimace. “I’d rather marry the damn clause itself.”
Pops chuckled, clearly amused by my reaction. “What’s so wrong with her? She’s beautiful, carries herself well, and has a business of her own. From where I’m sitting, she sounds like the kind of woman a man in your position should be considering.”
My father only knew as much as he did about Zonnique because she had spotted my parents out one day and taken it upon herself to introduce herself like she already held a permanent position in my life. By the time I heard about it, she had charmed my pops, smiled in my mama’s face, complimentedher outfit, and somehow worked my name into the conversation enough times to leave both of them thinking we were more serious than we were. The woman had introduced herself like my future wife while I was still treating her like an occasional inconvenience.
“Yeah, she’s fine, and the pussy good, but that’s about where her résumé ends,” I said. “Zonnique ain’t wife material. Hell, she barely qualifies as a peaceful evening. Her ass can’t even cook. The girl burned spaghetti, Pops…spaghetti.I didn’t even know that shit was possible. Adding to that, she doesn’t listen unless the conversation involves gossip, compliments, or somebody else’s business, and the only things she’s truly committed to are that shop, her reflection, and her Instagram followers.”
My father was openly amused now, like my irritation was the best entertainment he’d had all day.
“I’m serious, Pops. I wouldn’t trust that girl with my back turned, my business, or my last name. She likes the image of power, but she ain’t got the discipline it takes to stand beside it. She’d blow the whole operation posting selfies from somewhere she had no business being, caption talking about, ‘Felt cute, might delete later,’ while half the damn city zoomed in on the background trying to figure out where we were.”
My father hummed. “Well, it’s good to know you two havesomethingin common.”
“What that supposed to mean?” I questioned.
“It means, she likes the appearance of power, and you like the rewards of it. The difference is she's chasing attention while you're chasing a title. Neither one matters much if you're unwilling to do what’s required to keep it. You keep talking about the crown like it’s waiting on a shelf for you to pick up whenever you’re ready… it isn’t. The crown comes with conditions, responsibilities, and sacrifices. You’ve already proven you can run businesses, make money, and commandrespect. Nobody’s questioning that. What they’re questioning is why a man who claims he wants the position keeps dragging his feet on the very things required to obtain it.
