Prologue #3
Gianni leaned back, folding his arms, clearly weighing the options as well. “Samuel, Marco... you both know your kids are the strongest candidates for this. A Reed-Donatelli merger strengthens us more than anything. But if this is going to happen, we need to agree—who’s stepping up to the plate?”
The room went quiet, all eyes shifting between my father, Samuel, and me. If a Reed-Donatelli marriage was the strongest move, then I knew where this conversation was headed.
Me and Ayanna.
But did I want that? At eighteen? And with a girl I knew I loved but wasn’t emotionally ready for.
I could handle being a provider, and completing my duty for the family for anyone else.
I’d have married whoever they told me to and she’d be happy, on paper.
But I knew I wouldn’t be good to her. Not really. Not in the ways that mattered.
But Ayanna?
I couldn’t be that man to her. I’d be devastated if I fumbled any parts of her.
“A Reed-Donatelli is the best option.” Samuel’s voice cut through the silence, as he looked over to me. “I’ve always considered you as a son. A marriage between you and my daughter will bind our families for life.”
“I’ll agree, but only on one condition.”
If this agreement was going to happen, I needed to lay out the terms. As well as what was in the best interests of me and my future wife. We weren’t ready for marriage. Not at our age. She deserved to live her life first, just like I did.
Samuel gestured for me to continue, all eyes turning toward me.
“I want Ayanna to have her freedom until we are both ready. We’ll marry when she turns twenty-five.
That gives us both time. Time for her to grow into who she wants to be, and for me to take full control of the Donatelli operations.
” I glanced at my father, making it clear that I wasn’t just thinking of myself, but the future of our family’s empire.
Samuel looked thoughtful, his chin dipping in a slow nod. “And in the meantime? Orlando’s not going to wait for either of you to grow into your roles. We need to act now.”
“I agree. I’ll make sure both regions are stable, and that Orlando is handled. I’ll move some of our men to the South to reinforce our presence. In fact, I’ll go personally.”
I looked him in the eye as I laid out my plan.
“Our soldiers will work together—my men and yours. Move as one, sharing intel, and covering each other’s backs. If Orlando’s going to make a move, he won’t know where to strike because we’ll be united on every front.”
Bash shifted slightly beside his father, his sharp eyes moving from me to Samuel.
Gianni finally spoke up, his voice gruff but measured.
“I can back this plan. We secure our strongholds now, and in seven years, when the marriage takes place, we’ll be in a position to expand further.
In the meantime, the Vitale family will stand with the Reeds and Donatellis.
Orlando won’t get a foothold in the South, not with all of us working together. ”
Denise nodded as well, adding her support to the plan.
“Politically, I’ll make sure Orlando’s connections don’t extend further.
Stephanie can handle any legal challenges that come our way, and we’ll continue to build those ties as she grows in her career.
We might not be merging families today, but we will always remain connected. ”
I looked over at Samuel, waiting for his response. He was a man of few words when it came to these kinds of decisions, but when he spoke, everyone listened. He studied me for a moment before glancing at my father leaning back in his chair. He crossed his arms.
“This is all good in theory, but we’re talking about years before this marriage is official. The alliance needs to be secure now. We need something that lets the world know this deal is as good as done. Something tangible.”
He paused. “You’re right. We need more than just words.” My father glanced at me, then back to Samuel. “The Donatelli family will offer collateral.”
“Like what?” Samuel asked.
“A stake in our most lucrative import business. The Red Pillar. You’ll get 20 percent ownership until the marriage is official. That’ll make our agreement irrefutable.”
The room went still. The Red Pillar was sacred to our family. Offering even a piece of it was a huge deal. The majority of the east coast relied on our arms and drug trade routes.
Samuel paused, then looked to Bash. One nod, then back to my father. “That’s a hell of an offer,” he said. “I’ll accept.”
The room exhaled, the tension loosening as the deal was made. Gianni and Denise exchanged glances, both nodding in approval.
“With that in place,” Gianni said, “we’ll be in a stronger position to move forward. We lock down the South with the Reeds, secure New York with the Donatellis, and keep a watch on Orlando’s movements from all angles. If he tries to make a move, we’ll be ready.”
Samuel stood, signaling the end of the meeting. “Then it’s settled. We move forward together. The South and North—one united front.”
I stood and shook his hand. The deal was done, but it felt deeper than business.
“Good work, Teo,” he said. “I expect to see you in seven years, ready for the next step.”
I nodded. Seven years to build my empire. Seven years to become the Don.
One Year After the Meeting – Atlanta, GA
The last year in Atlanta had been exactly what I expected.
.. brutal but effective. The Reed-Donatelli alliance wasn’t just words on paper; it was a hundred men on the streets, taking back territories that never belonged to them in the first place.
It was sweat, blood, and bodies. Every fuckin’ decision…
they all passed through me. Anyone stupid enough to try selling dope on our blocks got handled.
Quick. Anyone claiming to be with the Moccasins got handled even quicker.
The fronts his crew had tried to muscle their way into.
We took every single one back and handed them over to the Reeds, just like we’d promised Samuel in that family room.
Word traveled fast when you moved the right pieces, and flexed the right power.
The suppliers who used to feed Orlando’s network knew better than to cross us now.
I came in and offered better deals to their customers, sold weapons cheaper than the competition, and provided protection where it mattered.
Orlando and his crew had finally gotten the message. Most had gone underground like the bugs that they were. But we’d flushed out the majority of his operation. Even his little marriage with Bianca Whitman didn’t help anything.
Atlanta was back under the full control of Samuel and I was building a piece of my own empire right here in the South.
“Mr. Donatelli,” the realtor called out breaking me from my reverie. She glanced around the weathered docks. “I have to ask - what’s your intended use for this property? The zoning requirements can be... complex for waterfront commercial space.”
I surveyed the area, noting the isolation. “Import business. Nothing too complicated. Zoning won’t be a problem.”
“But you seem so young.” She eyed me curiously, biting her bottom lip. I knew the look well. She wanted to fuck.
“It’s not every day I see someone your age looking at multi-million dollar waterfront properties without blinking.”
I smiled, pulling out my phone as it buzzed. “It’s a family business.”
I glanced at the message.
646-202-8888: The file as requested.
Opening the link, I looked at the nigga Yanna called herself dating.
Some college frat boy. He was good for her, but torture for me.
I loved watching her flourish into the woman I’ve always known she would be, but hated watching as the ‘family friend’ from the sidelines.
Dude’s pictures, grades, and family history stared back at me and I closed the file deciding to look at it thoroughly, later.
Sliding the phone into my pocket, I fixed my eyes back on the brown skin bombshell. I wasn’t surprised to find her interested gaze still lingering on me.
“My parents started me early with building my business portfolio. When do you think you can have the contract ready for me? I want it.” I gestured around the pier and warehouse complex and she batted her lashes and licked her cherry colored lips.
“I can have them ready by the end of business today. Will you be available? I could bring them by personally. Make sure everything’s... properly explained.” She touched my arm lightly and her eyes dropped to where her fingers lay on my forearm.
“You can bring them to my suite,” I smirked, letting my gaze linger just long enough to make her shift on her heels and step away. “I’ll send you the details. Now if you will excuse me I have other business to tend to.”
After a brief goodbye, I headed back to the black SUV, hopping in the back seat so I could fully examine this file.
The driver glanced at me through the rearview mirror. “Everything good, Mr. Donatelli?”
“Yeah, we’re done here.” I waved him off, already scrolling through Yanna’s boyfriend’s known associates, his family, and friends.
I scoffed when I got to his spending habits — all daddy’s money spent on designer clothes and bottle service.
All typical shit from a young nigga with wealthy parents and no personal goals.
He was a pretty boy but posed no real threat.
Better a rich kid with no street ties than some street nigga I’d have to murk.
Checking in on her periodically had become a part of my routine ever since she left for college. She’d been blossoming, making friends, and boyfriends much to my dismay.
I gave her space. Hella space. But not so much that I wouldn’t make sure whoever she was dealing with was straight. Yanna would always be my priority... even at a distance.
Just as I closed out the report, my phone buzzed with the one person I trusted to handle business when I couldn’t be everywhere at once. Keem’s number sprawled across my screen.
“Yeah?”