CHAPTER FIVE
Yatarius “Yatta” Fontaine
"Y'all good?" I asked, glancing at Yah-Yah in the passenger seat before checking the rearview to see Ya’Mya in the back.
"You asked us that three times already," Yah-Yah sighed, adjusting her tight red dress. My sister looked fly as hell, but I wasn't feeling how much skin that dress was showing. Business was business, though, and sometimes looking good, opened doors.
"And I'ma ask three more times if I feel like it," I shot back. "This ain't no regular club night. This meeting with Sosa is make or break for my operation. Ion need y’all nervous and shit around these niggas,"
"We know, Yatta," Mya said from the backseat, her voice steady. Baby sis was dressed more low-key in black jeans and a silk top, her hair slicked back in a ponytail. Simple but clean. "You've been drilling us about it all week."
I pulled into the VIP parking section of Club Bleu, nodding at the attendant who recognized my whip immediately. Nigga better, every time I slid through here, I tipped him enough to pay his car note.
Before we stepped out, I reached under my seat and pulled out two compact Glocks, passing one to each of my sisters.
"Tuck these," I instructed. "Kebo's working the door tonight. He'll let us slide through without the metal detectors but keep that shit concealed properly."
Yah-Yah took hers without hesitation, sliding it into her purse like it was just another tube of lipstick. Mya was more careful, checking the safety before tucking it into the small of her back.
"We really need these. I thought this was just business," Mya questioned.
I turned in my seat to look her dead in the eyes. "Listen to me. There's no such thing as 'just business' in these streets. Somebody probably put a bug in Tre’s ear that I’m meeting with Sosa. Or Sosa might try to flex. Either way, we walk in prepared or we don't walk in at all."
"Yatta 's right," Yah-Yah backed me up. "It’s better to have it and not need it."
That's why Yah-Yah was my right hand. Because she understood the game better than most niggas who'd been hustling their whole lives.
We stepped out of the car, and I adjusted my custom blazer, making sure my own piece was hidden but accessible. The night air was cool, but I didn't feel it. Before a big meeting like this, my blood always ran hot.
"Stay close," I instructed as we approached the entrance, the bass from inside already vibrating through the sidewalk.
The line outside Bleu stretched around the block, but we walked straight to the front. Kebo, a mountain of a man who used to run with my crew before I set him up with this security gig, spotted us immediately.
"Yatta!" he called out, unhooking the velvet rope. "Ladies looking beautiful tonight." He said Yah-Yah and Mya.
I dapped him up, as I slipped two hundred into his palm. "Good looking out, fam. My people already inside?"
"They in VIP section three. Sosa got here 'bout twenty minutes ago."
I nodded, guiding my sisters through the entrance, bypassing the metal detectors and pat downs.
The club was packed, bodies grinding on the dance floor, bottles popping at tables all around.
Bleu was the premier spot in Chicago right now, it was owned by some Nigerian dude who knew how to keep quality clientele coming through.
We moved through the main floor like royalty, people stepping aside when they recognized me. That's the thing about having a reputation in these streets, you don't always gotta announce yourself. Your presence does the talking.
"There they go right there," Yah-Yah nodded toward the elevated VIP section where I spotted Rah lounging on a leather couch, surrounded by bottles and a few thirsty-looking females.
As we approached the stairs, the security guard started to step forward, but Rah waved him off.
"They good," Rah called out.
The VIP section was dimly lit, with plush seating and a view overlooking the entire club. Rah stood to greet us, giving me a respectful nod before hugging both my sisters, the hug lingering a little too long with Mya for my liking.
"Yatta, What’s up Big bro?" Rah said, extending his hand. "I’m glad y'all made it. Let me introduce you to Sosa."
That's when I noticed the man sitting in the corner booth, watching our exchange with calculated interest. He was younger than I expected, maybe late twenties, early thirties, with dark skin and locs pulled back neatly.
Beside him sat another dude, light-skinned with waves, observing everything with sharp eyes.
"Yatta," Sosa stood, extending his hand. His grip was firm, matching my pressure exactly. "I heard a lot about you. You got a solid reputation in these streets."
"Likewise," I responded, sizing him up. He was shorter than me but carried himself with the confidence of a man who didn't need to intimidate to be respected. "Appreciate you taking the meeting."
"Business is business," Sosa replied smoothly. "This my right hand, Trigg."
The light-skinned dude nodded at me, but I caught his eyes sliding past me to where Mya stood. Something in his gaze made me instantly suspicious, but I kept my face neutral.
"My lil sisters," I said, gesturing to Yah-Yah and Mya. "This is Yah-Yah and this is Mya."
We all took seats, with my sisters flanking me on either side. I kept my posture relaxed but my senses on high alert, scanning the club periodically for any sign of bullshit.
"So," Sosa began, signaling for a waitress to bring another bottle. "Rah tells me you looking for a new supplier. You’ve been having issues with quality and pricing with your current situation."
I nodded, choosing my words carefully. "Tre's product ain’t been cutting it lately, I’m just looking for a change, because not only do my customers have standards but I got standards as well.”
"Yea that nigga been slipping," Sosa agreed. "He getting sloppy. Word is he's facing some heat from the feds too."
That was news to me, but I didn't let it show on my face. If Tre was under investigation, cutting ties now was even more crucial.
"What can you offer that he can't?" I challenged, leaning forward slightly.
Sosa smiled, reaching into his jacket. My hand instinctively moved toward my piece, but he just pulled out a small vial filled with white powder. He slid it across the table to me.
"Purer than anything Tre's pushing. Straight from my Dominican connect, minimal handling between there and here." I pocketed the sample without examining it. I knew I would test it later.
"And the numbers?" I asked, getting to the heart of the matter.
"Thirty-five a key, minimum order of five. Price drops to thirty if you take ten or more."
I couldn't help but raise my eyebrows. That was way better than what Tre was offering.
"Sounds too good to be true," I said, suspicious. "What's the catch?"
Sosa leaned back, his gold chains catching the light. "No catch. Just business sense. I move more products at lower margins, I build loyalty, while expanding territory. It’s simple math."
"And what territory are you looking to expand into?" Yah-Yah asked sharply beside me. Always the strategist, picking up on what wasn't being said.
Sosa's eyes shifted to her, lingering a beat too long for my comfort. "Smart question. I'm not looking to step on toes if that's y’all concern. Your territory is yours. I'm focused on the West Side and expanding further north towards the northern suburbs."
The waitress arrived with a bottle of Moet, setting it down with glasses for everyone. Sosa popped it himself, foam spilling over his hands as he poured.
"To new partnerships," he proposed, raising his glass.
I took the glass but didn't drink immediately. "Let's not move to quick bro. I still need to verify your product. I need to see if this really is the best shit in the city." I told him.
"Shid do whatchu’ gotta do, big bro." He conceded with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "But I don't think you'll be disappointed."
We clinked glasses, and I took a small sip, watching as Sosa downed his entire flute in one gulp. Beside me, Yah-Yah sipped carefully while Mya set hers down untouched. Smart girl.
As the conversation continued about logistics and payment methods, I noticed Sosa's eyes kept drifting to Yah-Yah. At first, I wrote it off as typical male attention. my sister was fine and niggas always stared. But there was something else in his gaze. And I hoped like hell it wasn’t something calculating.
The fifth time I caught him staring at her while Rah was talking, something inside me snapped.
"Ay yo," I interrupted, my voice dropping low and dangerous. "You got a problem? The fuck you keep staring at my sister like that for?"
The VIP section went silent. Rah froze mid-sentence. Trigg's hand moved slightly toward his waist. Mya tensed beside me, and I knew without looking that her hand was on her piece.
Sosa, however, just laughed, a genuine laugh that caught me off guard.
"Be cool, Big bro," he said, raising his hands slightly. "No disrespect intended. Just admiring the family resemblance. You and your sisters all got them same intense eyes. But sweetheart I do think I know you from somewhere." He added looking at Yah-Yah.
“Nah, you might be mistaken. You don’t know me.” Yah-Yah shot back.
I wasn't going for that bullshit, but making a scene wouldn't serve our business interests. "Yeah, well nigga, I think you should’ve asked her if she knows you or not instead of just staring. Speak up,"
"Noted," Sosa replied, still smiling but with a new respect in his eyes. He tested me, and I had to show that nigga I wouldn't hesitate to check him, business deal or not, I didn’t give a fuck.
The tension slowly dissipated as Rah jumped in to steer the conversation back to safer territory. But I kept my eyes on Sosa, and he knew it.