A Kingpin’s Weakness 2: His redemption

Prologue

SETH

“I really thought I’d be shopping for tutus,” Stormi said, lips poked out as she ran her fingers over a rack of pink dresses. “Not damn football jerseys.”

I laughed under my breath, eyes scanning the baby aisle like I was on a mission. “You knew it was a boy.”

“Yeah, but I was hoping for a girl,” she shot back, already wandering off back to the little girl’s section...

I was good over here. Little sweatsuits, fresh kicks, tiny hoodies. My son was about to be dressed better than half the niggas I knew. Stormi, though, was stuck, and she didn’t wanna face the reality of having a little boy.

“Come on, ma,” I said, grabbing her wrist and pulling her back toward the boy section. “Stay focused.”

“I am focused,” she said, holding up a tiny jean mini skirt. “You see how hard this is?”

I looked at the skirt, then at her. “Our daughter if we ever have one ain’t wearing that.”

Her smile dipped, but she still hugged the skirt to her chest. “You don’t know what she gon’ be wearing.”

I did know because I knew how the world looked at girls like Stormi. Too pretty, too soft, and the first ones they try and break. And the thought of having a daughter growing up dodging the same type of niggas her mother had to already had my jaw tightening.

“We having a son,” I said, lifting a tiny jersey from the rack. “He gon’ be his daddy twin.”

Stormi went quiet. When I looked at her, her eyes were glossy, hand resting on her stomach like she was already protecting him.

“I didn’t know I could love somebody I ain’t even met yet,” she whispered.

That hit me harder than anything else. I reached for her hand, squeezing it tight. “Yeah,” I said lowly. “Me neither.”

“Our life as we know it?” Stormi said softly, leaning into my side while I flipped through the rack, pulling polos in different colors. “It’s really about to change.”

I paused, glanced down at her, then back at the matching shirts I was lining up; one for baby boy and one for S3. “You ready?” I asked, meeting her eyes. I needed to see it in her face. Needed to know this was what she wanted too.

People always say we moved fast. Let ’em talk.

When you meet the one, ain’t no timeline.

I wasn’t some little boy still weighing options.

I was a man who saw his whole future the minute Stormi walked into my life.

She was my wife now and carrying my second son.

There wasn’t no turning back from that. And if she wasn’t ready, I’d do whatever it took to make sure she got there because doing it alone wasn’t an option.

“I am,” she said after a beat. “I just got this uneasy feeling. Like something I can’t shake.” She rubbed her stomach. “Guess it comes with being a first-time mom for real.”

I turned fully toward her. “You great with S3. And you raised Noah.”

She sighed. “S3 can talk. He can tell me what he wants, what he needs. With Noah?” Her voice dropped. “I was in straight survival mode.”

That hit different. I stepped closer, lowering my voice so it was just for her. “Ain’t no more surviving. I got you now.” I leaned down, kissed her lips slowly, and meant every word. “You not doing this alone.”

Her shoulders relaxed like she’d been holding that breath for months.

“We gonna be great parents,” she said, a small smile breaking through as she reached back into the rack, grabbing a few more outfits.

I watched her for a second—my wife, my family, my whole reason to stay solid in a world that tried to break you every day. Yeah, life was changing. But this time, we were ready.

We rolled up to the register with mountains of baby clothes stacked between us and the counter. The cashier’s smile stretched a little too wide when her eyes landed on me like my pregnant wife wasn’t standing right there, hand resting on her belly.

Stormi caught it immediately. “You see something you like?” she asked, voice sweet but loaded.

Pregnancy hadn’t softened her at all. If anything, it sharpened her. She was all fire and no filter, ready to snap without warning. I stayed on my best behavior, kept her fed, calm, and smiling because I’d only needed to feel the wrath of her pregnancy mood once to know I never wanted a repeat.

“Oh no,” the cashier said quickly, laughing like it was cute. “Just nice of your brother to take you shopping for your baby boy.”

“Brother?” Stormi echoed, letting out a low, humorless chuckle.

Before I could blink, she grabbed my face and kissed me slowly, , claiming what was hers.

Right there in the middle of the department store.

I wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her closer, not caring who stared or who was waiting.

If my wife wanted the world to know I was hers, I was more than happy to show it.

She pulled back just enough to look at the cashier. “Do it look like this my fucking brother?” she snapped.

I couldn’t help but smile. All I could think about was getting her home and reminding her exactly how much I loved that fire.

“My apologies,” the cashier mumbled, eyes glued to the scanner as she rang up the last of our baby’s things.

Ring. Ring.

Stormi’s phone rang at the perfect time, pulling her attention away from the awkward tension still clinging to her after the run in with the cashier. She answered without checking the screen.

“Hey, Jo.”

She slowed her steps as she listened.

“No, I haven’t seen or heard from Noah. I thought y’all had therapy today?” Her forehead creased. Pause. “He didn’t show?” Her voice jumped. “What the fuck?”

A couple people nearby turned their heads.

Stormi didn’t care. She exhaled hard, irritation mixing with worry.

“Alright. Let me call him and see what’s going on.

I’ll see you later this evening for dinner.

” She ended the call and stared down at her phone, thumb hovering over Noah’s name.

The relaxing shopping trip was about to turn into family drama.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, sliding my card back into my wallet as the receipt printed. I grabbed the bags, already watching her face.

“Noah didn’t show up for therapy,” she said, voice tight. “And Jo said she hasn’t seen him in like two days.”

I reached for her hand, squeezing it as I guided her toward the exit. “Noah good. Trust me.”

She looked at me like she wanted to believe it but couldn’t fully let go.

I knew he was straight. If he wasn’t, my phone would’ve rung already. Noah was family now. Soon as I said I do, the streets stamped him untouchable. Whatever dumb shit he got himself into, folks knew better than to move without checking in with me first.

She stopped by the truck while I popped the trunk. “What makes you so sure?” she asked. “I don’t know what him and Dre be into, but it’s like they always up to something.”

I loaded the bags, eyes scanning the lot out of habit. “The streets always talk. If they moving foul, I’ll hear it.”

But the second she said Dre, something in my chest shifted.

I hadn’t really dug into him. Knew he was tied to Ronnie’s crew, but his presence felt sudden like he just appeared and never left.

I didn’t track everybody’s politics; long as my circle was solid, that was enough.

I vetted who came near me, not every nigga outside my lane.

Still Dre was always there. Birthdays, family dinners, and all the big moments. Standing close but never smiling like everybody else. You don’t gotta be happy for my marriage or my kid on the way, but if you not, why keep showing up?

I tucked that thought away for later and helped Stormi into the truck, closed her door gently, then slid behind the wheel and pulled off.

She glanced over at me. “What you thinking about?”

“Dre,” I said without hesitation.

She made a face. “Ew. Why?”

“Trying to figure him out,” I replied. “Why he always around, but the energy doesn’t feel genuine.”

She sighed. “Everybody around you ain’t gonna be happy for you. People got their own problems.”

“I get that,” I said, gripping the steering wheel. “But in my lifestyle, you either happy or you hating. And quiet hate? That shit turn dangerous.”

She shook her head. “Trust me, Dre harmless. Him and Noah just wanna be some fake drug dealers.”

I smirked. “A hungry corner boy can build an organization or burn another man’s down. All depend on the nigga.”

She studied me for a second. “So, what you thinking about doing a deep dive on Dre?”

“Thinking about it.”

She reached over, resting her hand on my arm. “Can you wait? At least ’til after I eat. While I’m carrying this baby, I just wanna be happy. Stress-free.”

I softened, turning toward her. “You gon’ have that regardless,” I said. “I’ll take out the whole world if it starts stressing you.”

She laughed, digging in her purse, but I caught the relief in her smile.

I kept my eyes on the road lost in my thoughts because love made me gentle, but the streets never stopped watching.