I couldn't help but raise my eyebrows. That was way better than what Tre was offering.
"Sounds too good to be true," I said, suspicious. "What's the catch?"
Sosa leaned back, his gold chains catching the light. "No catch. Just business sense. I move more products at lower margins, I build loyalty, while expanding territory. It’s simple math."
"And what territory are you looking to expand into?" Yah-Yah asked sharply beside me. Always the strategist, picking up on what wasn't being said.
Sosa's eyes shifted to her, lingering a beat too long for my comfort. "Smart question. I'm not looking to step on toes if that's y’all concern. Your territory is yours. I'm focused on the West Side and expanding further north towards the northern suburbs."
The waitress arrived with a bottle of Moët, setting it down with glasses for everyone. Sosa popped it himself, foam spilling over his hands as he poured.
"To new partnerships," he proposed, raising his glass.
I took the glass but didn't drink immediately. "Let's not move to quick bro. I still need to verify your product. I need to see if this really is the best shit in the city." I told him.
"Shid do whatchu’ gotta do, big bro." He conceded with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "But I don't think you'll be disappointed."
We clinked glasses, and I took a small sip, watching as Sosa downed his entire flute in one gulp. Beside me, Yah-Yah sipped carefully while Mya set hers down untouched. Smart girl.
As the conversation continued about logistics and payment methods, I noticed Sosa's eyes kept drifting to Yah-Yah. At first,I wrote it off as typical male attention. my sister was fine and niggas always stared. But there was something else in his gaze. And I hoped like hell it wasn’t something calculating.
The fifth time I caught him staring at her while Rah was talking, something inside me snapped.
"Ay yo," I interrupted, my voice dropping low and dangerous. "You got a problem? The fuck you keep staring at my sister like that for?"
The VIP section went silent. Rah froze mid-sentence. Trigg's hand moved slightly toward his waist. Mya tensed beside me, and I knew without looking that her hand was on her piece.
Sosa, however, just laughed, a genuine laugh that caught me off guard.
"Be cool, Big bro," he said, raising his hands slightly. "No disrespect intended. Just admiring the family resemblance. You and your sisters all got them same intense eyes. But sweetheart I do think I know you from somewhere." He added looking at Yah-Yah.
“Nah, you might be mistaken. You don’t know me.” Yah-Yah shot back.
I wasn't going for that bullshit, but making a scene wouldn't serve our business interests. "Yeah, well nigga, I think you should’ve asked her if she knows you or not instead of just staring. Speak up,"
"Noted," Sosa replied, still smiling but with a new respect in his eyes. He tested me, and I had to show that nigga I wouldn't hesitate to check him, business deal or not, I didn’t give a fuck.
The tension slowly dissipated as Rah jumped in to steer the conversation back to safer territory. But I kept my eyes on Sosa, and he knew it.
As the night progressed and the business talk wrapped up, I made my decision. Sosa's offer was too good to pass up, but I was gon start small. I needed to test the waters with a five-keyorder and see how shit played out. His goal was to expand in the city and the suburbs, my goal was to expand to our neighboring states, like Michigan, Iowa, and Indiana. Little did he know I was about to bump him out of his position real fucking soon.
One thing was clear though, I would be keeping my sisters far away from future meetings with these niggas from GMB. I didn’t want that drug dealing shit for them. They both needed men with some legit shit going on, and I knew firsthand how street niggas got down. They can call me overprotective, overbearing, strict or whatever, but for my blood, I’m gon protect them at all costs.
* * *
I was still eyeing Sosa, making sure he kept his fucking eyes to himself, when I spotted shawty across the room. Lizzette. My shorty. Well, not officially my shorty, which was part of our problem, but in my mind, she was mine and only mine.
She was standing near the DJ booth in a tight gold dress that hugged every curve God blessed her with. But what got my blood boiling wasn't how good she looked; it was the nigga she was looking good for. Some tall, flashy motherfucker in some weak ass designer clothes. He had his hand on the small of her back, whispering in her ear while she laughed like he was Dave Chappelle or some shit.
"Everything good?" Yah-Yah asked, noticing my change in demeanor.
I didn't answer. My eyes were locked on Lizzy and homeboy, watching as she touched his arm, her red fingernails against his blazer. Something primal rose up in me, something I usually kept on a tight leash.
"Excuse me for a minute," I said to Sosa, standing up slowly. “I got some personal business to handle."
Sosa followed my gaze and smirked "Go handle ya business Bro.”
I moved through the VIP like Moses parting the Red Sea, niggas stepping aside when they clocked the look on my face. I kept my pace casual, my expression neutral, but inside I was raging. Who the fuck was this clown with his hands all over what was mine?