Chapter 17
VALENTINO
“Ithink I know who might’ve robbed us.” Sosa came into my office without knocking, and I immediately got annoyed, but since he seemed so excited, I indulged him.
“Whatever you thinking, hurry up ’cause I gotta get ready for the poker game tonight.
” Occasionally, niggas who were heavy in the streets would come through for a high stakes poker game, and they didn’t have any problems paying the house to shut shit down for them.
At that moment, I had every person on staff working to make sure shit went off without a hitch and that nothing like what happened at the robbery happened again.
Sosa even bringing his ass in there mentioning that shit felt like bad luck, but I was going to be present tonight, so wasn’t shit going to happen.
“I think a nigga named Jordan might be behind it.”
“Who?” I didn’t hide my confusion, having never heard that name a day in my life. Out of all the niggas we dealt with on a day-to-day basis between the casino and the other businesses, I didn’t know who Jordan was or what he wanted from me.
“Jordan, muthafucka, keep up,” he said, holding up a picture of that nigga, and once again, I didn’t recognize him.
Unimpressed, I shook my head with a shrug.
Truthfully, the nigga didn’t even look like he had the fire power to have pulled off the robbery, but I couldn’t judge a book by it’s cover.
“I saw him the other night, right, and he had on the ring that Quick got from his pops. I know that fuckin’ ring, man.
The nigga used to definitely show it off enough! ”
“Quick ain’t say shit about the ring being stolen, though, so how you know it's even his? Maybe Jordan got a pops who’s into that shit.”
“I gotta ask him, but I don’t think I’m wrong. I’m having Tray do a background on this nigga and whoever hang with his ass,” he grumbled, fucking with his phone.
“You do that but make sure he ain’t wasting time or money on that shit!” I sent Sosa’s mad ass away while I finished getting ready for the night.
Two hours later, I was sitting out at the bar and on FaceTime with Essence.
She was on her break and stuffing her face with some food I’d sent over from Panera that had her making the sexiest noises.
I had to adjust my dick twice already, and I was on the verge of just getting off the phone with her completely.
“Sweetheart, you keep slurping on that shit and moaning like that, I’m gon’ have to cut my night short.” I groaned, focusing on her juicy ass lips as she puckered them to blow on her soup.
“Don’t try to blame me ’cause you’re being mannish. I’m literally just eating. Plus, ain’t nobody tell you to call me on my break anyway.” She gave me a hard look before resuming the same shit that had me thinking about her laid out with her legs spread.
“I wanted to make sure you ate,” I said, taking my eyes off of her to scan the room.
She’d been feeling better since her random stomach issues, but I still liked making sure she was good, especially while she was at work.
I’d never had a regular job, but I knew they’d work you until you died and then fill your position that same day.
That hospital would have major issues if something happened to my shorty while on their clock.
Shit, I wanted to hit up the restaurant she’d gotten those yams from, but she kept insisting it wasn’t their food.
She was lucky I couldn’t figure out their name on my damn own.
Rolling her eyes in the camera, she held up a spoonful of that bland ass soup so I could see it before slurping it off the spoon. “As you can see, I’m eating, thank you,” she said smartly.
“And how your stomach feel?” I followed Arnez across the floor as I asked. He seemed to be on his shit along with his men, and that was a good thing for his ass because he was on his last straw with me.
“I’m fine. It was just food poisoning, Valentino. Or my stomach rejecting those yams. Either way, that was a week ago, and I’ve been good since then.”
“You know how fucking fine you are?” I asked, finally giving her my full attention, and her cheeks flushed.
“Stop it.”
“How long you got left on your break? I’m bouta come up there.” I was teasing, but it had her cheeks stretching into a big grin, even as she shook her head.
“Oh, no you’re not. Besides, it’s over in five more minutes anyway, so you can’t.” She stuck her tongue out childishly. “Anyway, where’s Sosa? Did he tell you that Bliss wants to double date?”
She’d told me how her and her sister had come to find out they were dating brothers.
I’d had so much going on it had slipped my fucking mind, but I definitely wasn’t going on a double date with Santana’s ass.
I was already shaking my head, annoyed. “I don’t know where his ass disappeared to, and you can tell Bliss that’s a hell no on that double date shit. ”
“And why not?”
“’Cause who the fuck go on double dates? Might as well just have dinner at our parents’ crib or some shit. At least I know his ass will somewhat behave,” I grumbled, and Essence gasped loudly, drawing my attention.
“Awwww, baaaabbyyy! You want me to meet your parents?” She started rambling, and I was still trying to figure out where I said that. Before I could correct her, she’d already hung up to call her damn sister.
A commotion at one of the tables snatched my attention, and I shook my head, seeing niggas at the poker table about to throw hands.
When I stood, I saw Arnez and others rushing over, but before they could get there, shots rang out, causing straight up chaos.
I had to fight through people running and screaming just to make my way to the table.
When I got there, I was immediately pissed the fuck off.
Arnez and Twan had tackled one of the players and was trying to wrestle a gun out of his hands while a few of the players held a nigga named Greg back. He’d taken one of the bullets and was bleeding all over the place but still trying to get to the nigga who shot him.
“This some bullshit, Vega! How the fuck that nigga get a gun in here?” Greg screamed as soon as he noticed me amongst the other faces.
I couldn’t even say shit because no one was supposed to be able to bring guns in, but somehow, a nigga had.
I quickly found out that the nigga who shot him happened to be the son of Lucas Ferrel.
The Ferrel family was the biggest arms dealers in the city and felt like they could do whatever the fuck they wanted, which was probably why his goofy ass had broken the rules and brought a gun in my shit.
“Fuck that! His bitch ass was cheating! He’s lucky I ain’t kill his broke ass!
” Lucas Jr. spat, still struggling against security.
“You know who the fuck I am? Who my father is? I’ll blow this muthafucka up!
” The nigga was clearly drunk as hell, words slurring as spit flew from his mouth, but he had me fucked up.
I wasn’t Greg’s ass, and although there was a certain level of respect that he gained from his name, I wasn’t above clipping him for disrespecting my shit.
“Fuck you, nigga! Wasn’t nobody cheatin’. Your ass just can’t play!” I shot Greg a look that had him quieting down, and addressed Lucas.
“Aye, I don’t give a fuck who your daddy is, nigga.
Don’t threaten me after you broke code and fucked up my shit!
” I barked, gripping the front of his shirt.
It was taking everything in me not to shoot his ass just off the strength and then deal with the consequences later.
“Get his drunk ass out my face!” I told Arnez, and they dragged him away kicking and screaming.
I already knew there was going to be an issue behind this shit, but since Greg wasn’t as connected, they would sweep it under the rug.
The other players had managed to get him into a chair, and I made my way over to him.
He was copping a plea before I could even open my mouth. “I swear, Vega, I wasn’t cheatin’ in your shit! Everybody knows his ass is an easy win. He just don’t like losing!”
“He ain’t lying. Lucas was down almost thirty bands and just started wildin’.
” A nigga named Jamal spoke up, and a low rumble of agreeance followed from the rest of the players.
It was well known that Lucas was a horrible player with a bad temperament, but the fact that his pockets were heavy had niggas overlooking that shit.
Hell, I’d overlooked it, and now I regretted that shit after the way he’d just shown his ass.
Using my gun, I gestured to the chips still on the table with a sigh.
“Y’all niggas take what y’all came in with and get this bleeding ass nigga up out my shit.
I’ll deal with Lucas and his pops,” I told them, not wanting to deal with having to figure out who was up or down in the game.
Technically, I’d gotten my cut, so I didn’t give a fuck about anything else.
A bunch of complaining followed, but they did what the fuck I said and slowly made their way out my damn building.
Finally tucking my gun away, I directed my slowly emerging staff to clean up while I went to figure out how to smooth this shit over.
First thing in the morning, my pops was on my line, going off about the shit that happened the night before.
I held the phone against my ear as I crept up behind Essence while she brushed her teeth and dropped wet kisses on her exposed neck.
She thought I hadn’t heard her ass in there puking up her guts since I’d been in the middle of a conversation, but I knew a lot more than I let on.
“Nigga, do you hear me! What did I just say about not causing problems with a more connected family? We’re still not even in the clear from the robbery, and you’re already in some more shit!” my pops shouted.