Chapter 10 Sincere Bellamy
SINCERE BELLAMY
Unfortunately, after the holiday weekend was over, I had to crawl out of Rhythm’s ass and get back to business.
I’d requested a meeting with Langford to ensure that we still had his support and influence after that shit show at the town hall meeting.
He hadn’t had an opening in his schedule until after the holiday.
Langford’s office sat so high that the city looked small through the window behind him. We were in one of those downtown buildings full of quiet money, like law firms and accounting offices.
I’d come with Big A, Reek, and Saint. They sat in a line against the wall, letting me work. Streets were their arena. This was mine. But they had come along to learn more of the process.
Langford sat behind his desk, with his sleeves rolled up, tie loosened, and our packet open in front of him, which was full of pictures of what the building would look like, how many apartments it would have, and the money breakdown, all the ways I had turned an empty lot into a story he could sell.
“A project this big doesn’t move without my committee,” he said, tapping the paper. “You know that. I’ve already pushed your hearing up and had some encouraging conversations with a couple colleagues. But that was before ‘Cartel condos’ became a hashtag.”
I nodded. “I appreciate that. We wouldn’t be this far without you. I also know that hearing is not guaranteed if half the ward is in your inbox, calling us gangsters in suits.”
He gave me a small, dry smile. “You understand my position, then. I’m not backing away from this.
I still see the jobs, the extra tax money it would bring into the city, and the potential headlines about redevelopment instead of another shooting.
I want to save this city with you, not from you.
” He leaned back. “But I need something legitimate to say when people ask why I’m still on your side. ”
“Community center, affordable units baked into the plan, commercial space for neighborhood businesses,” I suggested.
“That’s the substance. And it matters. I’ve read every page.
The money is clean. The partners are legitimate.
But right now, the public is not arguing about substance.
They’re arguing about your story. ‘Blood money.’ ‘Bodies behind the money.’ That kind of language sticks.
” He folded his hands. “You have a narrative problem. We have to fix that if you want me to keep standing next to this and not quietly push it aside to protect my own career.”
I couldn’t even be mad at that. He was telling the truth. “One of the Cartiers’ wives is a social media marketing consultant. Livia does brand strategy and digital campaigns. She’s good at telling stories people understand.”
“I don’t doubt her skills. But she is also married to Icon.
To the public, that looks like Cartiers’ building the project, Cartiers’ selling the project, and Cartiers’ defending the project.
That tight circle is exactly what your critics already fear.
” He glanced toward the door. “If you want me to keep spending political capital, I want an independent firm in the mix. Someone I trust. Someone my colleagues know. Someone voters recognize as having their own name on the line.” He picked up his desk phone and hit a button. “Sienna? Come down to my office.”
In our previous meetings, he’d told me about his daughter, Sienna, who had her own marketing firm. “With respect, your daughter’s involvement makes you look more connected, not less. People will say we bought you through her.”
“Or, they’ll say I have skin in the game. If Sienna’s face is attached, everyone knows I’m watching you. My colleagues like knowing I have a personal reason not to let something blow up. Voters too. It makes them more comfortable with me staying on your side.”
A knock at the door cut off my next thought. Langford told them to come in.
Sienna walked in like the doorway was the end of her runway. Her short platinum-blonde curls were in a pixie cut. Her warm brown skin glowed. Gold hoops caught the light. A nude, ribbed crop top hugged her curves with a matching band around her neck, and her makeup was soft and perfect.
“Daddy.” She greeted him as she walked toward his desk. Then her eyes moved to us. “Gentlemen.”
“Sienna, this is Sincere Bellamy,” he introduced. “These are his… acquaintances: Asim, Reek, Saint. They’re the ones behind the Project 83 we’ve been talking about.”
“I know who they are.” Her gaze settled on me with a soft but teasing grin.
“And I know your project. The neighborhood group chats haven’t shut up about it since that town hall clip.
” She slid into the chair beside me. She then opened her tablet.
“My father gave me a heads-up when you all were on your way. I’ve been watching the neighborhood pages since that town hall clip started bouncing around.
” She swiped a few times, then turned the screen so I could see the protest flyers, tweets, Facebook comments, and a video of me, Legend, Icon, and Saint in the back of the meeting with a phone in our faces.
“People are already talking about you online. Not all of Chicago, but the neighborhood. It’s loud enough.
This is how your name starts to change, for good or bad.
My firm can help blunt this. First of all, there needs to be a meeting with Kai Richardson to quiet him. ”
I nodded. “I agree. I actually reached out to him this morning.”
“Good. Then we build a clear narrative about what this project actually is. Housing, jobs, community space. Then we translate it into language the aunties and the teenagers both understand. We create content for social, your website, and physical one-pagers for meetings. We organize listening sessions where residents can ask questions and get real answers, not rumors. We identify trusted messengers like pastors, small business owners, and coaches, and get them informed so they can speak from facts, not fear.”
Her father watched her like he was so proud.
“You can mean well and still lose,” she said, looking back at me. “If you don’t control the story, someone else will.”
“I’m open to that,” I said. “We’re not trying to steamroll anybody.”
“Good,” she smiled. Then she paused before adding, “There’s one more thing I’d recommend if you want my father to stay in front of this.”
I waited with a raised brow.
“You’re asking him to assume a lot of risk politically.
It helps if he doesn’t feel like he’s doing that for strangers.
Right now, ‘Cartier’ is a rumor to most people, and it’s an intimidating one.
We can soften that by making it personal.
Human.” She glanced back at the guys on the wall, then at me.
“A visible relationship between one of you and someone they already trust, someone like me, sends a message. It says our families are aligned. That I’m close enough to see what’s really happening, and I still choose to stand next to you.
My father’s colleagues see that and think, ‘If Langford is letting his daughter attach herself to this, he must trust them.’ Voters will think the same. ”
Langford nodded. “It would make my continued support easier to explain. They know Sienna. They know I’d never let her connect herself to something I thought would explode or is illegal.”
I understood it. Politically, it made sense. Personally, I saw the other layer. I could see in Sienna’s eyes she wanted attachment to Cartier’s money and power. The problem was that all the Cartier men were wifed up. So, that only left me.
I scoffed with amusement. “I appreciate the strategy and offer, but the relationship part is a no for me.”
Her brows rose slightly. “No?”
“No,” I enforced. “I’m not using my personal life as a PR tool. I’ve had my share of phony relationships.”
Curiosity flickered in her eyes at that, but she stayed quiet.
“I’m not staging something for cameras or council meetings. If I ever stand with someone like that again, it’ll be because it’s real, not because it polls well or calms down your colleagues.”
The room went still for a second.
Langford studied me like he was recalculating. “You’re sure?”
“Very.”
Before he could respond, a voice came from the chairs behind me.
“I’ll do it.”
We all turned.
Reek leaned forward, forearms on his knees, eyes locked on Sienna. There was a look on his face that her body should’ve feared, but the way she shifted in her seat and met it head-on told me she wasn’t scared at all.