Chapter 3 #3
Chi was still laughing. “Bro, you ain’t just send her away; you gave her travel options. Fly, float, vanish—pick your departure package. I swear yo’ ass got a superpower for pissing off women in record time. You cold as hell, bro. You should put that on a résumé.”
I hunched my shoulders and sipped again, cool as ever. “Being cold keeps the leeches off. I like that.”
“Remind me to tell Dess to never introduce you to any of her friends. I don’t need her trying to leave me because you broke one of her friends’ hearts.”
“Shid, Dess knows; that’s why she doesn’t introduce me to any. But fun fact… her and Aaliyah talk.”
“Ah, hell nah, nigga!” Chi snatched out his phone, panicked. “I gotta get ahead of this shit! I’m finna send Dess some flowers, a long ‘I love you’ paragraph, and a Cash App just in case!”
I chuckled. “Chill, nigga. They talk, but I don’t think they’re besties or no shit like that. Still, I wouldn’t be surprised if she calls her.”
“I’m still doing what I said. Nigga, I ain’t losing a good woman ‘cause you out here destroying brunch groups and traumatizing women in emerald dresses.” Chi tilted his head at me. “You ever think about love, bro?” he asked going completely off topic.
I didn’t answer right away.
Love.
It felt like a language I was never taught; like it was passed around at birth and somehow skipped me.
Everyone else knew how to speak it, laugh in it, and cry in it.
Me? I just learned how to survive. I knew how to provide, protect, disappear , keep secrets, bury pain, and end a problem before it began. But love? That was different.
That was a war with no weapon and a risk with no guarantee.
That was handing over my soul and hoping the person didn’t drop it.
I wasn’t afraid of heartbreak; I was afraid I’d hand someone my truth, and they’d walk away, or worse , try to fix it.
The things I’d done… the thoughts I carried…
that version of me that came out when no one was watching?
I didn’t know if love was strong enough to survive me.
Chi was living his best life with his fiancée, building a future, turning rage into loyalty. But me? I was still stuck somewhere between numb and dangerous.
Maybe one day I’ll meet her—whoever she is.
The woman who won’t run when I don’t smile, won’t flinch when I’m quiet, or crumble when I show her the worst of me.
But until then... I’ll keep watching love from a distance—like a movie I’ve seen a thousand times but never in my language.
And if she ever does show up? She’d better come armored and anointed, because loving me won’t come with flowers; it’ll come with fire.
“Sometimes,” I finally admitted with a shrug. “But I don’t think I’m built for it.”
Chi grinned. “That’s ‘cause you ain’t met your Dessign yet.”
Chi’s phone rung.
“Speak of my fine ass fiancée, and she shall call. I wonder what she’s calling for, though?”
“Answer it and find out, nigga.”
Chi answered, putting her on speakerphone. “What’s up, baby? You miss me already?”
Dessign’s voice cut through, smooth but sharp. “I just called to make sure you’re not out acting like you runnin’ something.”
Chi smirked, glancing at me. “Me? Acting out? Baby, I’m the calm one tonight.”
Dessign laughed dryly. “Calm? The only time you’re calm is when you’re asleep—and even then, you kick the covers off like you fighting demons.”
Chi barked a laugh, trying to cover his embarrassment. “Now, baby, why you gotta tell all my business like that? I got you on speaker.”
“Because you mine, and I like reminding you in public,” she shot back, proudly. “But I didn’t know you had me on speaker. Chi, you know to always tell people soon as you get on the phone if you do. That’s your fault. Anyway, where is my brother? I have a few words for him.”
What the hell I do? I wondered.
“I can hear you, sis,” I let her know.
“Imanio, why the hell did Aaliyah just hit me up, crying, saying you embarrassed her tonight like I was supposed to do something about it?”
“Aye, sis, easy on the name. I’m in the public… at night,” I voiced in a low tone. “But yo’ girl approached me . She had options. She chose disrespect… and got dismissed.”
Dessign groaned. “I swear… you and your women. You always leaving them limping, crying, or calling me . I’m sick of being their emotional receptionist just because I’m your sister.”
“Then close the office, sis. Simple,” I advised with a shrug.
She giggled. “You got jokes, but I like that. Seriously, you need to start passing out disclaimers, not just dick! ‘Warning: Dick may cause spontaneous tears, misplaced hope, and unexpected ego death.’ Hell, make a damn brochure, or even tell them you’re mute!
It will save us both the headache! But I’m watching a show. I’ll talk to y’all later.”
I thought she was about to hang up, but she kept going.
“And Chi, please, whatever you do, don’t go to jail tonight.
I’ve been drinking and if I wheel in there, they might try to lock me up too for a DUI and reckless driving.
But if I do end up having to come get you, I’m showing up with my bonnet on and embarrassing us both!
Then I’m running over somebody’s foot before I leave! Fair warning! Love y’all!”
Click.
“Bro, how she gon’ cuss us out, threaten us emotionally, and still hang up with love?” Chi asked, still staring at his phone.
“What can I say? She’s a Kors, bro.” I chuckled.
“You think she’d file a lawsuit against me?”
“Nigga, we’re talking about Dess! Hell yeah! She’d sue, win, and then take you to dinner with the settlement money.”
We both shared a laugh that felt good at that moment.
That’s when I felt it— an unwanted presence.
“Hi…” Some chick approached us; her voice was already doing too much. “I was watching you,” she referred to me, “and, well, you just look so... mysterious. But I feel like I know you from somewhere. Like… I see you all the time.”
Before I could reply, Chi slid in with, “Yeah… probably on a billboard that says, ‘ Now leasing—stay the fuck out of my face.’”
I coughed to hide my laugh.
“On some real shit, he’s single, but he’ll also ruin your life,” Chi forewarned her.
She tried again. “Well, I just thought maybe he’d wanna?—”
I finally faced her. “Look, I don’t want yo’ number, Instagram, or your trauma; I’m full.”
Chi nearly fell out of his chair from laughing. “Yo! ‘I’m full?!’ You really rejected shorty like she was bread at the table!”
The girl reared her head back, clearly offended.
“Wow. You didn’t even give me a chance.”
“You gave me everything I needed in your walk over here. Now go redo it in reverse.”
Her smile twitched. “That’s how you talk to women? They surely don’t make men the way they used to.”
“No, that’s how I talk to interruptions. And they do; you just don’t qualify for this particular nigga.”
“I tried to warn you,” Chi said, shaking his head, then gave her a once-over. “That dress had potential; the approach did not.”
The girl huffed, spun on her heel, and walked off fast—heels clicking like regret.
Chi laughed. “Yo.. . I’m finna make my girl sign a waiver before she ever asks yo’ ass for advice!”
“I’m her brother, so it's too late for that. Besides, I’ma honest muthafucka, so I’m sure I’ve given her some of the best advice she’s ever gotten.”
“Ol’ girl was flirting with you, though, Grinch. You mad at that?”
“I came here to chill, not flirt. And I wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t for yo’ ass.”
Chi grinned. “Nah, I know what it is… you cranky ‘cause you ain’t caught a body in a minute. Yeah, that’s it.
You mad and sitting here like John Wick in a hoodie ‘cause peace and quiet don’t excite you.
Nigga over here fiendin’ for chaos like it’s nicotine.
” He leaned in slightly, voice lowered. “Well… don’t worry, tonight might be your comeback tour. ”
A slow grin crept across my face.
Now that’s the language I loved to hear.
“Talk.”
“It’s Blu. He’s late. But that nigga ain’t just late; he skipped out on two drop-offs, gave my runner an empty envelope last week, then had the nerve to say he needed a grace period. I told him you wasn’t gonna like that. He said he’d have it this weekend… Saturday to be exact.’”
“My weekend starts on Fridays… today.”
“I heard he’s been hosting after-hours poker games at the joint. Stupid packed. Cash everywhere. Somebody’s making money.”
“And it ain’t us,” I interjected.
“Nope!”
See, Chi wasn’t just my nigga; he was my eyes and ears in the streets. Although I was running a legit empire—real estate, construction, high-end developments—I had another love; actually, my first love. The kind that didn’t involve invoices, but invitations to violence .
Debt collecting.
But those days, my face was tied to glossy Forbes articles, and my schedule was full of investor meetings, architectural walkthroughs, zoning calls, looking at luxury properties—shit that made me money but bored my soul.
And since juggling both worlds wasn’t easy, Chi stepped in and handled the dirty tracking and was out collecting intel like overdue rent.
With him being damn near kingpin status in his own lane, he kept me looped in on the kind of shit I couldn’t always see from boardrooms and skyscraper views.
Chi knew who owed me, who was talking slick, and who was about to meet God—or the devil sooner—than scheduled.
People saw the name Imanio Kors and thought polished success—suits, skyscrapers, and magazine spreads.
What they didn’t know was this: happiness, for me, wasn’t sipping champagne in penthouses or smiling for cameras; it was pulling up in silence, gloves on, settling a score before the sun even cracked the sky.
The streets owed me, and every now and then, I had to remind them, I still collect… with interest.
I downed the rest of my drink in one gulp, then stood like it was time to clock into chaos.