Trill (Laurent Family #1)

Prologue

The throne. A place where every street nigga or former street nigga imagined they’d be some day.

The urban dictionary might describe it as a place where one is finally on top, sitting at the head and looking down on those beneath them.

To me, it is the loneliest place to be. I rock out in this motherfucker by my lonely because I know in this game it's best to keep your enemies close, and those you love as far away as possible.

All my life I worked my ass off to be here. I learned. I took losses. Made many mistakes along the way. Had to double back more times than I can count. Most importantly, I stayed down and waited my turn.

In the end the reward was major. Financial stability was secured many years ago. Every nigga out here is chasing the money, power, and respect. I can say I reached that status before the age of thirty. Creating a name for myself that carried weight without me being present in any room.

I have everything I want in life with just one exception. I didn’t have that family dynamic. Being connected to a nigga like me? That’s a target on your back. So nah, the people that mean the most to me don’t even know it because I can’t afford to show that kind of love.

In this game, it’s a war between peace and power. I chose the latter. Power welcomed enemies. The kind of enemies that never play fair, no warnings when they decide to make their moves. The kind of enemies that don’t miss.

That shit taught me early in the game to not let your enemies know what matters to you.

Even if that meant creating a distance so cruel, the very people I loved would hate me in the end.

That was the price I was willing to pay to ensure that they’re always protected.

No memories. No pictures. No public ties.

No connection that anybody could trace them back to me.

Just wasn’t a gamble I was willing to take.

Even the most heartless gangsta has someone they love and care about.

Even with all my efforts, I realize that everything isn’t within my control. A collision is bound to happen, whether I’m ready or not. I just prayed that what I thought was the right thing, don’t cause some shit I’m not prepared for.

I stepped away from the window, taking a sip of yak from my glass.

My eyes drifted to my desk. The manilla folder staring back at me.

Shit has been sitting there all night and I’ve yet to touch it.

I needed time to get my head together. Thoughts consuming me and I wanted to be strategic about all this shit.

No matter how many times I thought over this shit.

I know it’s what need to be done. There was no other way.

The shit has been in the making ever since I began to make real money.

A blueprint if you will. All the shit was in black and white.

The one thing that was missing was my John Hancock.

Names. Conditions. Everything else was there.

I wasn’t hesitant. I was just careful. In my mind this was security. The only way to ensure the empire that I built doesn’t fall by the wayside. Even if that meant forcing something that wasn’t ready. Even if it’s a shit show before it reaches its full potential.

Without putting anymore thought into it, I grabbed a pen from the cup on my desk.

Knowing the moment the ink hits the paper, it becomes permanent.

That’s something I’m willing to deal with.

Some things have to be controlled from a distance.

Even if I’m not here to see how the shit plays out.

I can leave this motherfucker knowing I did my part.

I just need everything I built to stand.

Even in my absence. Otherwise, all of this shit was in vain.