11. Ritz “Radar” Monroe
Ritz “Radar” Monroe
Four Months Later
Iwalked the property at High Stakes Monroe Casino in Las Vegas, taking everything in. This shit was finally coming together. Vegas really was the city that never slept. It was just as alive at three in the afternoon as it was at three in the morning.
Rows of brand-new slot machines stretched across the casino floor.
Upstairs was where I kept all the high-stakes tables.
Back in Magnolia, they were tucked off in the rear, but I figured I’d switch things up down here.
A lot of people would probably think putting the money upstairs made it easier to get to, but that was exactly what I wanted them to think.
I even left a dummy camera overlooking one of the exits.
If a muthafucka got brave enough to try something, they were gonna find out real quick.
I might’ve become a businessman, but Radar was still very much alive.
A nigga would be picking out flowers if they mistook my success for softness.
“How you liking everything?” Toni asked.
“Whew...” I looked around the casino and shook my head. “If I’m keeping it a buck, this still feels like a dream.”
“You deserve it, Mr. Monroe.”
Mr. Monroe? Funny how four months with one woman could make a title I’d answered to for years feel like it belonged to her. The name I heard all day, which would leave me with a headache most days, now activated my body as if it were a command.
A tap on my shoulder brought me back.
“Did you hear me?” Toni laughed.
“My fault. What’d you say?”
“I said I’ve noticed a change in you since we started this project, and I have to admit... it looks good on you.”
A grin pulled at the corner of my lips.
“'Preciate you.”
“I still can't believe you have a son.”
I laughed.
“Shit... me either.”
On Revv’s second birthday, I let Magnolia Times Magazine break the story with a picture of my little family.
Shit moved fast, but I didn’t give a fuck.
The moment I switched up my routine, laid my mans back in his wet and juicy permanent home, and me and G-Baby finally had that much-needed conversation, it was a wrap.
I was single. She was single. Revv deserved for us to give this thing a real chance, and that’s exactly what we did.
I couldn’t complain if I wanted to.
Anera called a couple of times and even popped up at the casino, thinking my answer had somehow changed.
It hadn’t. I never led shawty on, and I damn sure wasn’t about to start.
The second time she decided to pull up just so happened to be the same day G-Baby was waiting on me outside.
Let’s just say Anera met Dice, and once G-Baby pulled that damn Glock, that slick shit Anera came with disappeared real quick. I ain’t heard from her since.
She got that ass fucked to next Tuesday with that toxic shit.
We continued to walk through the establishment, and I couldn’t be prouder of myself. Tonight we were kid-free, and G-Baby had something planned for my birthday. It was time for me to get back to Magnolia Valley, and quick, before this girl started tripping.
My phone started vibrating, and I already knew it was no one but my G-baby.
As soon as I answered, she started without so much as a hello.
“How long are you gonna be?” she asked.
This damn girl.
“I’m headed to the jet in a few, ma.”
“Okay, great.”
“See you soon.”
“Okay, safe travels.”
“Girl, you betta finish that damn sentence,” I demanded.
“Ugh! Boy, I love you.”
“Love you too. And clean that boy word up, G-baby.”
“Ritz, just get here on time,” she said and hung up.
I shook my head.
“I think you’d better go,” Toni teased.
“Yeah. Have we gone over everything?”
“Absolutely.”
“Aye, look, link me up with a realtor to get me a home out here.”
“You not going with the penthouse?”
“Nah, I ain’t feeling having my family around all the noise and no peace.”
She just smiled.
“What?”
I frowned.
“Oh, nothing. Get to Mrs. Monroe.”
Mrs. Monroe? It got a ring to it.
“As soon as I clean up, I’m out.”
“Yes, sir.”
Toni smiled and headed toward the exit while I took a slight detour.
Three days ago, I had people running in and out of here, gearing up for the opening. Everything was moving smoothly until Vaga Maxwell, owner of Sunshine Casino, decided to walk his ass through my doors.
Was Vaga Maxwell competition?
I guess you could call him that.
But here was where Vaga fucked up royally... walking in like he had the right and walking out like he’d given me a warning.
I’d already done my homework on Vaga. He was a thirty-year-old Italian cokehead who got his name and business from his daddy. His father, Oz Maxwell, was actually a good man who did good business, legally, that is. Vaga was just a spoiled brat walking around in his father’s body armor.
I was removed from the day-to-day chaos of the streets, but my homies weren’t.
Vaga might’ve thought he came to warn a businessman, but the minute he walked into my establishment, trying to mark territory, he woke up a side of me that didn’t give a fuck about tax brackets and tailored suits.
If this shit all went away today, I would still be rich.
“You ready?” Oats asked, coming from the front after locking up behind Toni.
“Hell yeah.”
Toni knew exactly what was up when she left. Anybody who’d been around me long enough knew Vaga’s little visit wasn’t friendly. He came to show me who he thought he was on this end.
Today I was returning the favor.
When we walked into Sunshine Casino, this seizure-ready ass shit lived up to its name. Bright as hell, gold everywhere, enough lights outside to make a blind man squint.
I wasn’t impressed. I saw inside pictures of every casino on this block, and this shit had to be on the same wave as Shamrock, just tacky as hell.
“This shit is blinding like a muthafucka,” Gwop voiced.
“Yup,” Wallie chimed in.
Oats stayed on my right while Gwop and Wallie followed close behind. The minute we stepped through the doors, attention shifted to us. I didn’t know if it was recognition or instinct, but people knew when something wasn’t right.
We weren’t there to gamble in this raggedy-ass shit, and we for damn sure didn’t want no watered-down drink. And we didn’t need a tour; we weren’t impressed before we came through the gold-glitter doors.
One of Vaga’s men stepped in front of us before we made it far.
“Mr. Maxwell ain’t taking visitors.”
“You sure you wanna halt my steps, big man?”
Oats chuckled beside me.
“But see,” I started. “I wasn’t taking visitors three days ago either.”
The nigga’s expression changed.
There it was.
Recognition.
His hand moved toward his waist, but he never got the chance to finish whatever dumb-ass decision his brain had made. My crew reacted, guns drawn, as Vaga’s security scrambled to respond.
Everything around us froze.
“Now,” I said calmly, keeping my eyes on the man in front of me, “you can take me to Vaga, or we can make this lobby real uncomfortable in this muthafucka.”
His jaw tightened.
I waited, but in just a second, I would be choosing for him.
That was the thing about fear. You didn’t always have to yell to create it.
“Office is upstairs.”
“See?” I adjusted the cuff of my shirt. “Communication.”
“Nigga, I swear I missed yo’ crazy ass in the streets.” Oats laughed.
This dude thought everything was funny until his looney tune came out to play.
“Nah, keep his ass in a suit. We ain’t been here but a few days and he on go,” Wallie said.
I was in a zone, so I was silent. They already knew I wasn’t feeling all this activity. My girl was waiting. That thought alone was pissing me off.
By the time we reached the private hallway upstairs, Vaga’s people had gotten the message. Nobody was stopping shit.
His office doors were closed.
Gwop reached for the handle.
“Move.”
He stepped aside.
I shoved through the doors myself.
Vaga shot up from behind his desk. The clicks of guns being raised sounded behind me, my crew ready with their fingers on the triggers.
“What the fuck—”
“See, muthafucka, that’s exactly how I felt three days ago.”
His eyes moved from me to the crew filling his doorway. I turned around, and I stood correct. My brothers had their guns out on the guys up here with Vaga.
“You got some fucking nerve coming into my casino like this.”
I smirked.
“Let me guess, Mr. Entitled can’t take the return.”
I walked farther into his office and took my time looking around before finally giving him my attention.
“I came to talk business.” He tried to clear up the reason for his visit.
“Nah.” I shook my head. “You came to measure dick and thought because I didn’t pull mine out, yours was bigger.”
Oats coughed behind me, covering a laugh.
Vaga’s face hardened.
“This is Vegas, Monroe.”
“And?”
“You don't know how shit works here.”
“So, let me get this straight. I haven’t even cut the damn ribbon to High Stakes, and you saw people running in and out, gearing up for the grand opening, and you thought it was a good time for some welcome to the neighborhood ass shit?”
I stared at him for a long second.
Then I laughed.
Not because shit was funny.
Because this bitch nigga really thought I’d come all the way to Vegas, invested millions of dollars, built a whole ass casino, and never bothered to learn who was sitting at the tables around me.
“I know exactly how shit works here, Vaga. I knew who you were before you ever set foot in my building. I knew who your daddy was, the only string that’s hanging by the reason you ain’t dead.
I know what he built. And I know you’ve spent most of your grown-ass life hiding behind his last name and blowing money up yo’ fuckin’ nose. ”
His nostrils flared.
I stepped closer to his desk.
“What you don’t know is me.”
“I know enough.”
“Nah. You know Ritz Monroe, but I suggest you get yo’ nose outta yo’ pure and get that muthafucka in a book to learn just who the fuck I am before you pull that shit again.”
I leaned forward and planted both hands on his desk.
“You gonna need a composition book for notes fuckin’ wit me.”
His glossy eyes stayed on mine.
This bitch was high now.
“Do you know who you're threatening?”
I took a seat in the leather chair. No need to worry, my brothers would smoke all these niggas in broad daylight. Oats had a crew ready for shit like this.
“Listen, your last name is tied to respected people. You ain’t held up nothing when you started dipping with yo’ pinky.”
It was no secret in the family that Vaga was the family problem, and everyone had basically wiped their hands of him. But the way we walked into my shit was like an army was behind him and his foolery.
“I didn’t come to Vegas asking permission.
I didn't come to take nothing from you, either. There’s enough money flowing through this city for both of us to eat until we choke.
But don't ever walk into my shit again trying to silently warn me. I knew what your visit was, and you knew what message you wanted it to give the minute you pulled up with yo’ flunkies. That shit might work on somebody else.”
I straightened.
“You got something to discuss, call and make a fuckin’ appointment.”
Vaga stared at me.
“And if I don’t?”
A slow grin pulled at my mouth.
“You already got four niggas standing outside this office reconsidering their career choices, and you're still asking stupid-ass questions.”
His jaw flexed, but he didn't say shit.
Good.
I got up from the armchair and turned my back on him, a clear disrespect in his culture, and walked the fuck out.
I had a plane to catch.
More importantly, I had a woman waiting on me.
“Y’all, let’s go. G-Baby already threatening my life about being late.”
They laughed as we headed out.
Behind me, Vaga finally found his voice.
“Til next time, Monroe.”
I stopped but didn’t turn around.
“Til next time...” I called out over my shoulder.
See, why he just couldn’t keep his goofy powder brain over there and slowly kill himself with his blow, or get clean and find God.
He just had to get the last word. “Aye Vaga, Rule 101. A real man knows the last word never matters, but a boy—a boy will always strive to catch the period. Make sure you put that in your notes.”
I continued my stride.
“Get his address,” I called out to Oats, lowly, not that I didn’t trust Gwop and Wallie, because that was far from the truth. But this situation was different and didn’t just include my girl.
“You sending Dice and em?” he whispered.
This clown got all hyped up like he was a damn extended member of the gang.
“I’m sending Mrs. Monroe to clear this nigga out. He talks too fuckin’ much.”
“Ahhhh shit, now. If you like it, then you betta put a ring on it, or whateva the fuck Beyoncé said.”
I just shook my head.
“You know, every day I truly question how the hell you’re successful.”
“Because my black ass is the captain of the FAFO.”
I laughed.
“Where to now?” Wallie asked.
“Home, it’s a real nigga birthday.”
“No strip club?” Gwop groaned.
“Not fa’ me, big homie. Global got plans, catch you guys in a few days.”
He nodded with a genuine smile, and I headed to the jet while they stayed back to run through Vegas.