Chapter 6
Chapter six
"Merge"
The room was dark. The only light was the one coming from the flickering fireplace behind me.
“Damn, I must say, I was surprised when I got that call from you,” Kalvon said as he entered the room sniffing hard, before aggressively wiping his nose with the back of his hand.
A crooked smirk stretched across his face while his pupils looked blown wide and restless, bouncing around the room with the jittery energy of somebody very clearly high.
“I thought you’d be too busy kissing yo’ daddy’s ring.”
“Sit down, Kalvon,” I ordered, motioning to the lone chair in the center of the room.
It wasn’t a request.
Kalvon, still trying to keep up appearances, chuckled loud and sloppy. “You ain’t the boss yet, Merge. You lucky I’m tired. Now what’s up? You dragging me outta my condo for a sit-down? This shit better be worth my time.”
“Actually… I did,” My father’s voice slipped out from behind the door, smooth, dangerous, and ancient with power. “And it will be.”
Kalvon froze. “B-Boss, what’s going on?” he asked, eyes darting around nervously as I approached him.
“You’ll find out… in due time,” my father said.
Before he could jump up, I stepped forward and clamped a chloroform-soaked rag over his nose.
Kalvon jerked and tried to fight, but he was soft.
His eyes rolled and his body sagged.
“Yeah,” I whispered in his ear, tightening my grip as he sank. “Go ’head and sleep tight, muthafucka. You gone wish you died in this chair when you see what’s waiting for you when you wake up.”
He went limp, and I let him drop.
Kalvon really thought he could outmaneuver me and take the throne I’d bled for.
I refused to bow to that soft-ass imitation of a man, so I built my own trap.
I brought in someone sharper—a ghost with a calculator, someone who lived and breathed numbers.
The nigga didn’t talk, drink, gamble, do drugs or steal; he just counted and reported.
Within weeks, he found holes in the accounts, and every single one of them traced back to Kalvon’s greedy fingerprints.
Thirty minutes later, the room was carved from silence.
We were in The Cellar, the place no man guilty of a Belvior crime walked out of.
The floor beneath us was concrete, darkened from old sins.
Every member of the Belvior Order lined the walls, shoulder to shoulder like an army awaiting judgment.
Heads were bowed, respect was heavy in the air, and everyone waited for my father to speak.
At the front of the room, Kalvon was on his knees, wrists bound behind him and blood in the corner of his mouth where the guards had introduced him to the floor. My father stood before him in a calm way that made grown men want to beg for forgiveness before he even spoke.
Pops lit his cigar slow, as if he wasn’t about to deliver a death sentence. “Loyalty is the spine of this family,” he began, his voice echoing through the hollow space. “And betrayal?” he whistled, tauntingly. “Betrayal is rot.”
Pops flicked ash from his cigar, eyes still on Kalvon.
“We’re here tonight because a man forgot his oath, forgot what he owed this family, and forgot his place. There is no greater sin in this family than disloyalty… not even murder. This family is built on trust, order, and honor.”
Pops turned his head slightly, eyes sharpening on Kalvon.
“And what are you built on, Kalvon? Greed? Envy? Arrogance?”
Kalvon’s head snapped up, confusion and fear wrestling on his face. “What?”
Pops ignored the stupidity in his tone and addressed the room.
“Earlier today, I got confirmation that someone’s been moving product under the table.
Guess whose name kept surfacing? Kalvon Marceaux…
our accountant… the man I trusted with our numbers, our money, and our name.
You were given everything, and in return, you took what wasn’t yours. ”
“Whoa! You trying to say—” Kalvon started.
“I’m not trying to say anything,” My father cut in. “I am saying. You thought I wouldn’t find out? Thought you could play me and still eat off my plate?”
I stood off to the side, watching the same man who thought he’d outsmarted us tremble under the weight of his own arrogance. He finally saw the truth in the room; every eye was already mourning him.
Kalvon’s breathing stuttered. “I didn’t steal from the family! I swear on my life—”
“You think I’m a fool, boy?” Pops sneered. “I’ve been building empires since before you knew how to count past ten. You didn’t steal money; you stole respect. You looked me in my face and lied with a smile while robbing me blind.”
Kalvon tried again, desperately. “Everything I got—”
“Is because of me,” Pops finished. “You were nothing but a loud-mouth with cheap cologne and ambition you didn’t earn… just like yo' raggedy ass daddy.”
“Look, leave my pops out of this,” he said offensively. “Now, I didn’t do whatever you think I did! I’m being set up! Somebody’s framing me to make me look bad!”
Kalvon looked at me for the first time. Our exchange was the look of two wolves that had circled each other for years, and he finally realized I’d sunk my teeth deeper.
“It’s you behind this shit, isn’t it?”
“Guilty, muthafucka,” I admitted with no shame or fear. “From the moment I met you, you were always too greedy to be trusted… and too stupid to see me coming.”
He scoffed. “I should’ve known. You’ve been gunnin’ for me since day one. You always hated I was chosen too. What? You were so scared that you went to this extreme to make up lies?”
I smiled slowly, stepping forward, voice cool. “Scared? Nah. I just don’t like sloppy thieves. And Kalvon, women lie, men lie, but guess what don’t lie? Numbers.”
He spat on the floor. “You think I’d risk my life over a couple of thousands?”
I folded my arms across my chest. “Funny… nobody ever mentioned the amount. But disloyalty is disloyalty. It doesn’t matter if it was five dollars, five bands, or five million… you steal from this family, you die for it.”
“Nigga, fuck you!” Kalvon barked. “I’ve been loyal—”
I chuckled, cutting his sentence short. “You've been greedy. Don’t get it twisted.”
Kalvon’s chest rose with anger.
My father raised his hand slightly. He turned toward one of the soldiers and nodded. The man stepped forward and dropped a thick black folder in front of Kalvon.
Pops squatted, opened it, and flipped the pages. “Kalvon, these are the wire transfers, the coded accounts, and the missing funds. You signed checks that led to shell companies, funneled money through fake charities, and sent funds to accounts in your mama’s maiden name.”
Kalvon’s face shifted from denial, to realization, to fury. His lil’ performance died the second truth walked in.
I smirked. “Yeah… didn’t think we’d find that last one, huh?”
Kalvon laughed bitterly and recklessly. “You think you’re untouchable because of your last name? Nigga, you ain’t earned shit. You walk around like royalty, but everything got handed to you!”
He shook his head with a twisted grin. “So, what if I did do it?”
“Is that a confession?” my father asked with raised brows.
Kalvon shrugged like a man who’d already accepted death.
“Fuck it! I did it! And I enjoyed every dime, every transfer, and every lie. You wanna know why?”
His eyes flicked around the room, wild and brazen.
“Because I earned this shit just as much as you. You and your son have been eating for years! Y’all think y’all are the only ones allowed to have power? While yo’ son was off being the golden boy, I was grinding, doing dirty work, and holding this shit down in ways y’all ain’t even recognize!”
Kalvon kept going like he was proud.
“So yeah, I took what I wanted—owed or not—just like every boss does when nobody’s watching. And watching the money move under y’all noses?” He grinned at me. “That shit was better than sex.”
My father nodded once. “You’re right about one thing. Bosses do what they want.” Then he turned to me. “But sons of this family? They do what they must. Merge.”
That was my cue.
Kalvon’s grin faltered.
I turned my back for a moment, then slowly pulled on a pair of black leather gloves.
The room watched in perfect stillness.
“This is a family of order… of honor,” I said, aloud with my back to everyone. “We don’t forgive betrayal, we bury it.”
I pivoted then stepped forward, my shoes echoing like a countdown.
The black swan chain around my neck felt heavier than usual, as if it already knew traitor’s blood was about to spill.
I circled Kalvon slowly, stalking him the way predators do before the kill.
“I told you,” I murmured. “I don’t kneel, and I don’t share thrones. You wanted my spot so bad… now you get to see what comes with it.”
I gave a slow nod.
Two men grabbed Kalvon by the arms, forcing him to his feet.
His chain gleamed under the cellar light, catching every ounce of his last bit of pride.
The guards shoved him forward, down to his knees again, right in front of the wooden block.
He tried to fight, jerk his shoulders, and spit curses, but the men held him still.
I took off my blazer, rolled my sleeves, and took the blade from the stand. It wasn’t just any knife; it was the ceremonial blade used for internal executions that only the Don or his heir could wield.
“You were the last obstacle,” I whispered. “The only other name they could’ve considered if I didn’t produce an heir. Too bad your greediness blinded you.” I chuckled coldly. “You stole from a family that doesn’t even steal from its enemies.”
“Merge, wait—” Kalvon screamed but my blade was already in motion.
With one clean, merciless swing, his head hit the block with a sickening thud before rolling across the concrete like it was searching for somewhere to hide. The sound was heavy, wet, and final. Kalvon’s body collapsed forward and twitched once as blood fanned out across the floor.
I picked the chain off the floor and held it high for everyone to see.
“He wasn’t worthy of this, and the family don’t wear what traitors touched!”
I threw it into the barrel already lit behind me and it melted in seconds.
I turned to face the room again. My boots were still sticky with Kalvon’s blood.
My father stepped up beside me, hands clasped behind his back like a king surveying his kingdom. His eyes swept across every man present; each one silent, stiff-backed, and fully aware they’d just witnessed history.
His voice rolled out slowly and heavily. “This is what happens to those who believe they can betray us and live.” He paused, letting Kalvon’s headless body drag across the floor punctuate the point. “This is what happens when ego outweighs loyalty, and a man forgets the hand that fed him.”
My father rested a firm hand on my shoulder, solid and unapologetic pride in the gesture.
“And this,” he added, looking around the room, “is what a real heir looks like.”
The men didn’t cheer or clap. Their respect wasn’t loud; it was quiet and unanimous.
Every man bowed his head once in silent allegiance.
My father leaned in then, low enough that only I could hear him. “Now that’s he’s gone, tell me… what the hell are we gonna do if you don’t give me a grandchild soon?”
I cracked a smirk. “Everything will work out, Pops. I don’t know how, but I feel it will.”
Behind us, Kalvon’s body was dragged across the cellar floor, leaving a thick trail of blood in its wake while his head was carried out separately in silence.
Bagged… tagged… and forgotten.
I didn’t feel any type of remorse. Hell, I didn’t even feel sick.
One less snake breathing my air. One less obstacle standing between me and that chair.