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I’ve been using the gym here in the mornings, so that I could get my workout in. Some mornings, I would be too sluggish to wake up though. I didn’t want tomorrow to be one of those mornings. Messing around with Wolf, if we went at it too hard, I would sleep until sometime tomorrow afternoon.

“Aight. Fifteen,” he replied, saying a totally different number than the one that I’d given him.

I didn’t put up a fight though. I let this fine ass man open my legs, pin them behind my head, and it was easy for him to get that dick out after taking his briefs off.

He took me through there with that dick just like he always did. He promised me fifteen minutes, but I swear it felt three times longer. I passed out on that dick. Whole body just gave out on me. The way I was just fucked, I knew I wasn’t going to get up in a couple of hours to get a workout session in. Hell, what he just put my body through was the workout session.

CHAPTER 8

WARREN ‘WOLF’ BENNETT

Iwas at the shop right now. We had about two hours or so until closing time, but I was getting ready to head out soon. The plan was to head over to Kingston’s crib, so that I could chill with my mom for a little bit. She’s been staying with Kingston for a couple of weeks now. Her ass was slowly making progress. She was coming out of the room more, and not spending her days locked up in the bedroom crying and shit. Kingston was the oldest brother, so he was the one that was tough on our mom. He was getting on her every day, basically telling her that she needed to pull herself together. I truly believed that nigga just lacked sympathy. He was so used to treating his wife any kind of way, that whenever a woman showed any kind of weakness or just needed time to pull herself together, he didn’t know how to handle it.

I stood behind the display case, getting ready to step out from behind it, so I could head out for the day. Just as I was getting ready to do that though, a group of young boys walked into the store. Their presence caught the attention of everyone in the store. There were a few customers in the store who turned to look at them. Security that was posted at the door, looked them up and down. All my workers who were dealing with other customers, even turned to look at them. I had my eyes on them too. The weed smell was loud on them. We could smell it on them before we got a chance to see them. They looked like little niggas too. Probably nineteen and twenty.

“Welcome to Wolf’s Jewelers. How can we help you today?” that was Irene, one of my client advisors.

Whenever customers walked into the store, it was either her face or one of the other client advisors that they saw first. It was their job to greet the customers, find out what they were here for, and most times, the client advisor could handle the sales themselves, but a lot of times, customers came in wanting to do business with me. They wanted the Wolf experience. I’m the face behind the business. With my content creation team on duty, always posting reels on social media of the Wolf experience, most times, I’m who they wanted to do business with.

“How you doing, love? We want to do business with Wolf,” the one in the middle that was closest to Irene said that.

Irene was a white woman I’d hired who had proven to be great at what she did. Her face was a little red because I’m sure she was afraid that all those young niggas were in her face like that. Add the mixture of loud weed, and the fact that you could look at them and just tell that they were up to no good.

Irene turned her head so that she could look at me, asking me with her eyes what she thought I should do. I motioned with my hand to bring them over to me. She did just that, and once they reached the display case, like they knew me or something, each of them reached their hand out for a pound. I shook it up with each one of them and let Irene know that I had it from here.

“Wolf, what’s good man? We follow you on social media and shit. We look at you as a fuckin superstar. You be having all the get money niggas in here. All the dope dealers, ball players, and rappers. Nobody got the kind of pendants and Cubans that you got,” the same nigga that spoke to Irene is who was speaking to me.

Handsome little nigga too. Really light skin with hazel-colored eyes. He had sandy brown hair, and it was curly. Even though the lil nigga was handsome, I could take one look at him and tell that there wasn’t shit pretty about him. I didn’t have to know these dudes for me to know that they were out here fuckin up, and living wrong. I could see it. Each one of these young niggas had a tattoo stamp on the side of their faces, and that told me everything about them that I needed to know. They were troubled kids. More than likely lacking guidance.

“How old are ya’ll lil niggas?” I asked.

“Eighteen”.

“Nineteen”.

“Twenty”.

Each of them started spilling out their ages. None of them were over the age of twenty. I knew they were young. They had baby faces.

“Let me put ya’ll young niggas on game right quick. Ya’ll gotta know how to show up for different rooms. Ya’ll said that ya’ll watch me on social media, right? Then you should know that everything I do in this bitch is luxury, and upscale. Ya’ll see the kind of customers that walk in here and spend money with me. Ya’ll should have had the common sense not to walk in here smelling like a pound of weed, hoodies on, pants sagging and shit. When you walk into spaces like this with that kind of image, you sending us the wrong signal. Had ya’ll made one wrong move, that security at the door would have been ready to draw his gun, and I was going to be on the same kind of timing. Ya’ll want to do business with me? Take them fuckin hoods off, and pull your pants up,” I got on their asses.

I wasn’t sure if it was because they had respect for me, but they immediately laughed it off, but whoever was wearing a hood, they removed it from their heads. All of them were sagging, so they quickly pulled their jeans up too.

“We appreciate that folk. Sometimes, we be needing to hear shit like that,” one of the other guys said to me, reaching his hand out, so that he could shake it up with me again.

“What ya’ll came in here looking for?” I asked, getting to the matter at hand.

The second they started looking around, I already knew they were about to be on some bullshit. It made sense why these niggas walked in here with hoodies. Each of them went inside of the big front pocket of the hoodies they had on and pulled out clear bags. I watched as each of them opened the clear bags, and poured the contents out onto the display counter. It was a spread of jewelry. I’m talking custom pendants, big face Rolex watches, thick ass diamond cut Cuban link chains, diamond earrings, the whole fuckin nine. The custom pendant is what stood out to me. I mean, of course it would stand out to me because I made the design.

It was a mini version of the Miami skyline. The buildings were flooded in diamonds. The blue stones that acted as water on the pendant was one of my favorite touches. I showed my ass when I designed this piece, having details on the pendant showcasing the Miami bridge, palm trees, and other elements that represented the city. This piece went viral on social media for months. It had well over fifty million likes.

Keeping the pendant in my hands, I looked down at the rest of the jewelry, knowing that all this shit belonged to the same person. They had all his shit. All his shit that he purchased from me, and they brought it back to me, more than likely trying to sell it back to me.

When I looked up at them, something in their eyes told me they had no business doing this shit. They knew what the fuck they were doing, and they knew it was wrong.

“How the fuck ya’ll niggas get this shit?” I asked, and the light skin nigga clenched his jaw.

“Nigga, do it matter? It’s in our possession, and we want to know what it’s going for? How much you willing to give us for all this shit?” he asked me.