Chapter Seventeen Prime Thomas
The warehouse reeked of mildew, rot, and old betrayal—the kind of scent that clung to your skin and followed you long after you left.
I leaned against a rusted-ass table, tapping the barrel of my pistol against my thigh while Zeke sat across from me like he had the upper hand.
That cocky-ass smirk on his face was already working my last nerve, but it was the flash drive dangling between his fingers that made me itch to snap his whole wrist off.
“You running outta time, Prime,” he said, dragging each word like he wanted to savor the threat. “Too many secrets, too many enemies.”
I didn’t blink. I didn’t shift. I didn’t let shit show on my face. I just leaned forward, my voice low and dripping with venom. “You really think I’m the one who should be scared?”
Zeke’s grin widened. “You should be,” he said, like he already knew he had me cornered. “Especially once them Storm brothers find out your marriage is a fucking front. You out here using their sister’s name to launder money through that little business of hers. That’s wild.”
My jaw locked as my chest thudded with the kind of heartbeat that warned me something real fucked up was brewing up.
That was supposed to be my ace and my cleanest secret, tucked away behind layers of bribes and paperwork that couldn’t be traced.
Only a few niggas even knew about that move and Zeke wasn’t supposed to be one of them.
“Don’t look so shocked,” he said, his eyes dancing like he was enjoying this shit. “You were too busy running behind money and pussy, forgetting who was out here cleaning up behind you. I never took a job for you without knowing what the fuck I was walking into.”
I sat back slowly, my grip tightening around the Glock in my hand as my thumb grazed the safety.
“What is it you want then, Zeke?” I asked, my voice calm, low, and deadly. “Money?”
He laughed like this shit was funny. “Nigga, do I look like I’m hurting for cash?
” He stood, slow and calculated, the flash drive still dangling between his fingers like bait.
“I want a piece of the empire. The one I helped you build. I did your dirty work while you played king, and now you wanna cut me out like I ain’t bleed for this shit. ”
He stepped closer to the exit, smile still plastered across his face like he thought he had the upper hand.
“I’m done being your cleanup crew,” he said smirking. “So, here’s how this gonna go, I get my cut, or I start leaking piece by piece. And remember I know it all.”
My jaw ticked as the itch in my trigger finger grew.
“I’m done waiting, Prime. You either pay up or watch your whole world burn.” He calmly said before he turned his back. Wrong move.
I didn’t even bother standing or giving him a warning. I just raised the gun and pulled the trigger.
Pow.
That flash drive hit the ground before his body did.
Zeke’s body crumpled to the ground face-first, blood leaking from the fresh hold in the back of his skull.
That was the problem with niggas like him, they got too comfortable thinking you needed them.
Like I didn’t have a thousand other snakes waiting in the grass, ready to bite just as dirty. Like I hadn’t survived worse.
I tucked the gun back into my waistband and stared at his lifeless body. “Should’ve kept your mouth closed.”
I picked up the flash drive that was still warm from his touch and picked it without second thought. I didn’t need the information that was on it, but I had to ensure that nobody else would find out the truth about my marriage. Not Sayani. And sure, as hell not Eason.
The second I heard that nigga call Xalori his woman in front of the world, I knew he was gonna be a problem that I had to get rid of. Especially when he made that whole speech about Nasir being his son. That was really the final straw for me that sealed his fate.
That same bitch he was in love with used to cry herself to sleep in my arms and now she thought she was just gonna move on, be happy, and get a new daddy for my kid.
But nah, that shit wasn’t happening today or any other day.
See, Xalori wasn’t supposed to survive me.
She wasn’t supposed to pull herself together, raise our son, and start smiling again like I didn’t exist.
I left her broken on purpose. I wanted her dependent, scared, and easy to mold.
But now she was walking around with a little girl on her hip like she belonged to her, with Eason’s name being whispered behind hers like they were some family unit.
It made my stomach turn. That nigga Eason took what belonged to me and was walking around acting like it was his.
Nah, I wasn’t built to take L’s like that.
I pulled out my phone and dialed a number.
“Yeah?” The voice on the other end was cautious. Good. That meant he knew better than to fuck with me.
“I need a birth certificate pulled,” I said. “Nasir Carson. I want details, DNA results if they ever existed, and every medical file from birth to now. I need court documents drawn up for full custody and lawyers, I need all of that by tomorrow morning.”
“Copy that. What’s the rush?”
I smirked.
“I’m reclaiming what’s mine.”
If Xalori thought she was about to ride off into the sunset with that nigga while raising my son, she had another thing coming and she’d obviously forgotten who the fuck I was. But I’d remind her and this time, when I come for her, it ain’t gone be for closure. It’s gone be for blood.
I hung up the phone and tossed it onto the seat beside me.
This was the part I loved — the wait. The slow poison leaking into their perfect little world. Because while Eason was busy playing house, building nurseries and making promises, I was already setting the fire underneath his whole fucking empire.
And when it burned, I’d be the only thing left standing.