Page 178 of Vega

I know your voice. You sittin’ in Prodigy face every day while plotting with his enemies.

Another message followed:

Niggas get killed minding business that’s not their own.

That was the final text he’d sent.

Saint’s jaw flexed. “And you traced the other burner to Knox?”

Jamir nodded. “He bought it cash through somebody else, but he got careless and connected it to Wi-Fi at his place twice. The same device traveled with his regular phone for weeks. I matched location records, and camera footage.”

Icon stared at the messages. “How did Kash even know him?”

“They crossed paths at the same bar,” Jamir explained. “They both hustled the same product, drank in the same spot, and knew enough about each other to speak. Kash overheard Knox meeting with the leader of an outside crew. They’ve been planning to make a move against the Street Kings and take back territory they lost.”

I looked at Kash’s final message again. “That’s why he asked to meet with us.”

Icon’s eyes moved to the screen. “He was gonna tell us about Knox.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “But Knox killed him the night before he got the chance.”

Saint stood and began to pace. “So, Knox killed one of ours and been smiling in Prodigy face ever since.”

“He’s a snake,” Icon said.

“He’s a dead snake,” Saint corrected.

I understood the anger. Kash was family. Knox had taken him from us, and that debt had to be paid. But Prodigy was going to hear that his closest friend had betrayed him, plotted against everything they built, and killed one of ours to hide it.

“We can’t touch Knox before we talk to Prodigy,” I told the room.

“Prodigy’s gonna want to see every piece of this before he believes us,” Saint replied.

“He should,” I agreed. “Knox ain’t just somebody he knows. That’s his brother.”

Jamir closed the laptop as Icon replied, “Then we show him the proof and let him hear it from us before Knox gets word we’re onto him.”

Prodigy deserved the truth before we handled Knox.

After that, nothing was saving him.

NOVELLA “NOVI” HART

The paper beneath me crinkled every time I moved, but I couldn’t stop shifting on the exam table.

I’d thought I was ready for this appointment. But I wasn’t.

The doctor stood between my knees with her gloves on, explaining what she needed to check, but I barely heard her. My eyes stayed on the empty chair near the wall.

Kash should’ve been sitting there. He should’ve been asking too many questions, acting like he understood everything, then looking at me for confirmation. He should’ve been complaining about how long they had us waiting.

Instead, the chair held my purse.

A tear slid out of the corner of my eye and into my hair.

“You may feel some pressure,” the doctor warned.

My breath caught, and another tear followed.