Chapter Eight
While Nivéa got dressed for the day, Crown sat in the living room, feeding Nyla, who wore a soft pink onesie with a matching bow perched atop her head.
Baby girl acted as if she was starving. Her tiny feet flickered as she eagerly drank from the bottle, and her chubby cheeks puffed out with each sip.
“Damn, you drinking this bottle fast.” Crown said, watching her with a smirk. “Is it that good to you?”
As if she understood, Nyla released the nipple of the bottle, passed gas, then went back at it.
“Aight, then. Say less.”
Crown chuckled, finding everything she did adorable.
So much so, he considered telling Nivéa he’d changed his mind and wanted a whole football team of kids.
He could relive this stage of their lives over and over again.
When the milk was gone, he removed the bottle, patted Nyla’s back, and began to burp her.
This shit was second nature to him now. She made spit bubbles until she fell asleep.
“Okay, I’m finally done, so we can head out.” Nivéa announced her presence as she slid in her diamond earring.
“You look beautiful.” Crown told her, taking in her strapless burgundy dress.
“Thank you.” She leaned down to kiss his cheek and ran a hand over Nyla’s hair. “She done fell back to sleep and knocked this damn bow off.”
“Yeah, you know how she do. It’s all good. I got her.”
“Yeah, I see. Look at you, Daddy. You even packed her bottles.” Nivéa glanced at the stuffed diaper bag and noticed he had used the milk storage bags to refill each one, just like she’d shown him.
With ease, Crown placed Nyla in her carrier, adjusting her bow headband before buckling her in. When he finished, he stood and pulled Nivéa into his arms.
“Let me show you something before we head out.”
“Okay,” Nivéa said, kissing his lips and following him.
Crown took her on what felt like a journey through the expansive home. At the back of the house, they reached a beautifully designed wine cellar, its shelves lined with bottles that gleamed under soft, ambient lighting.
It wasn’t anything Nivéa hadn’t already seen before, but then Crown moved to a section of the wall that appeared ordinary.
Using a remote he’d retrieved from his pocket, he made the wall move, revealing a steel door to a concealed room.
He then put the code into the mount on the wall to gain access.
“You see what I put?” He asked, glancing back at her to see if she had caught the code.
“Yeah, your grandmother’s birthday, right?” Nivéa recalled their many deep conversations about family and legacy.
“See, that’s why I made you my wife.” Crown kissed her forehead.
Inside the concealed room, the motion lights turned on automatically, revealing stacks of cash neatly arranged alongside a few of his registered firearms. In the upper corners on both sides were cameras, recording every angle.
“What the he—” Nivéa’s voice cut off as she looked around in awe. “Ahmad, this is a lot of fucking money.”
“It’s not even half of what I got put aside. This is just one of my stashes. We will get to the rest soon, hopefully. If not, my mama knows where they are. She will let you know. You my wife now, so it’s time you know where everything’s at…just in case.”
Crown would never voice it to her, but every time he went to re-up or do business with someone new, the risks loomed even larger than before.
His life, his freedom…everything was on the line.
He had done his due diligence on Elijah Porter, but the street nigga in him wouldn’t allow him just to trust wholeheartedly.
He wanted her to be prepared just in case anything went wrong that day.
But he didn’t have to state the obvious; Nivéa sensed his worry. “Oh no. Don’t you go talking like that right before our reception, nigga.”
“Nivéa.”
“You ain’t been talking like that to me. I don’t like it.”
“I know you don’t.” He smirked, wrapping his arm around her neck, grounding her.
They stayed like that for a moment, lost in each other.
Crown shook his head as he looked down at her, realizing you didn’t truly see the rot in this world until you were protecting something pure from it.
The monster belonged to the streets, but the man belonged to her.
He loved her with every fiber of his being, wanting nothing more than to protect and take care of her.
“Listen, baby. I always plan to make it back to y’all. You know this. But this is just in case. You’ve been added to all my accounts, too. Here.” He handed her a bunch of cards from his pocket.
“More cards?”
“More.”
Nivéa fell silent as she examined each card. She realized these had her actual name on them. The other two he had given her in the past had his.
“How did you get those folks to add my name to these accounts? Did you go snoopin’ through my shit and steal my information?”
“Maybe” Crown winked. “It’s my job to know everything about you. You my wife.” He tapped her ring that sparkled naturally, licking his lips. The diamonds hit so hard that she didn’t even need any lighting.
She snickered, then turned to take in his outfit…
something she hadn’t bothered to do at first. He wasn’t in his usual office attire today; instead, he wore his familiar vest, jeans, and boots.
That choice signaled to her that there would be no architecture business that day. Crown would be deep in the streets.
“This is one of those things you can’t tell me?”
Crown nodded slowly.
“Okay,” Nivéa said, pulling her wallet out of her Birkin and tucking the cards neatly inside.
She tried to be strong, but Crown noticed the slight tremor in her hand.
Once her wallet was tucked back in her purse, he pulled her back into his chest. He understood what she had endured with Boe and recognized that she was defying her better judgment by being with another man from the streets.
They both knew it deep down. Instead of feeling frustrated, Crown empathized with her at every turn.
She was taking a chance on him, having fallen in love, and he didn’t take her love for granted.
Crown would always bring her peace amid the chaos.
“Breathe,” he whispered, and she did, not even realizing she had been holding her breath. “I love you, ma.”
“I love you, too.”
“Six more years of this shit.”
“Six more years…” she echoed.
Nivéa felt a surge of anticipation for the future, eagerly waiting for the day he turned forty, when he could finally retire his patch and leave this life behind.
“Don’t wait up for me tonight. But tomorrow night, I got you. I’ma dick you dine until the sun rise.” Crown told her in his heavy southern accent.
Nivéa burst out laughing, popping him in the chest. “What is wrong with you?”
“You what’s wrong with me. A nigga crazy in love.”
“I am, too. So, be careful and make it back home to me, Ahmad. I did not marry you just to turn around and have to bury you.” Nivéa pressed her forehead against his, growing serious.
“And I didn’t put a ring on your finger or a baby in you just to not spend forever wit’ you. I will do everything in my power to walk back through that door.”
After locking the house down and walking his girls out, Crown hopped on his bike and was gone in a flash. He made it to the warehouse in no time.
Inside, his club waited for him. Danger and Smoky at the head, exchanging a blunt. Crown joined, and by the time they finished, it was time for the meeting. Elijah and his men came suited up in two SUVs, backing in, and Crown watched intently.
Elijah exited first, Isaiah followed suit, and the others fell in line around him.
“Crown,” he nodded.
“Jah,” Crown flicked the blunt to the ground, stepping it out with his boot.
“Got my money?”
“You got my product?”
The two stared at one another until Elijah nodded, gesturing for Isaiah to set one of the packages on the table.
He did so, and Smoky moved without having to be told.
He opened it, examining everything closely before taking a small amount between his fingers.
The room stayed quiet while he tested it.
A few seconds later, he nodded once toward Crown.
“Shit is superior.”
That was all Crown needed.
Elijah closed the remaining bag calmly, and Crown nodded at Danger, who instructed two other members to start handing the duffel bags filled with money over.
The tension that naturally came with new business faded slightly after that. More handshakes were exchanged. A short conversation sparked between Danger and Isaiah while everybody loosened up some.
“Next month,” Elijah told Crown. “Same day, same time.”
“Bet,”
The two men clasped hands one more time before Elijah and his crew started making their exit.
Right behind them, Smoky headed to the street, making sure the block cleared out.
There would be no circling back around. He knew Danger fucked with Isaiah the long way, but they could never be too careful.
It was always business with the Knights, nothing personal.
Crown stood still for a moment with his hands tucked inside his vest, his mind already calculating their next steps. First-time business wasn’t something he rushed through. There was a lengthy process to this shit.
“D,” he looked toward Danger, “Separate the test batch. Hold the rest for further testing. Ain’t nothin’ hittin’ the streets until I know everything straight fasho.
Once it’s cleared, then and only then do they break it down.
Shut down all outside motion until then, too.
We in all night until it’s taken care of. ”
“Bet,” Danger replied, bobbing his head to a Jeezy record that Domo had put on.
Crown ran the Knights tight. Every move was calculated. Every package accounted for. Every member knew their role. One mistake could bring heat onto everybody and he knew it. He was protecting the Knights’ reputation, the fiends who purchased from them and their freedom.