Khalil laced his hands and placed them on top of the white bedsheet.
“And he ought to be a giver, not a taker. A good king is willing to bless his people.”
“It was pretty easy for you to list those characteristics,” Khalil whispered. “Do you know why?”
Dwayne was reluctant to give voice to his thoughts because he already knew that the conversation had streamed into the exact points that Khalil would have made without Dwayne’s input.
“Because every one of those traits is a natural part of who you are.” Khalil placed one of his hands over Dwayne’s heart. “I can say the same about each of The Kings too. But there’s one characteristic that trumps all of those. It’s a person’s ability to see the truth about how their own thoughts and actions help or hinder their forward progress. See, a good king might acknowledge some of his strengths and weaknesses. But a great king makes room in his inner circle for trusted experts who can advise him so that his ignorance, weaknesses, or limitations won’t become a liability to his kingdom. That’s what the Kings need. A wise counselor. Someone with the voice of reason. Dwayne, you are the man who fits that bill.”
Dwayne stood, feeling the weight of the decision upon him. He embraced a simple life, but this appointment required so much more.
“So, the question is, are you okay with using your God-given strengths just to better some of our youth? Or do you want to use them to the fullest by perfecting these men who will touch the lives of more young people than you could ever touch alone?”
CHAPTER 36
“Baby boy, they don’t know who they’re dealing with,” Brandi’s voice boomed through the Jag’s speaker.
“Aunt Bee…” Daron turned the knob on the dashboard to lower the Bluetooth’s volume. “I have a friend looking into it who’s familiar with Chicago’s streets and their players.”
“Good,” she huffed. “Those suits you hired last time didn’t know enough about hood hits to recognize a trademark.”
“Just let me handle this.” Daron was glad the vehicle was moving because even with the window down and the volume lowered, Brandi’s tone sounded as though she was yelling through a bullhorn.
“No, I’m seeing this through.”
Daron sighed his frustration. Determination was an asset until a person was on a fool’s mission. He wished he had more personal time to devote to getting his aunt to accept that his brother’s death was an accident. On top of everything else he had going, Daron had agreed to work with an old friend on a project.
As if he’d been summoned, the name Calvin Atwood appeared on the Jag’s screen. “I have to take this call. We’ll finish this conversation later.”
He switched over the call before she could protest. “Did you get my notes?”
Daron rolled up the window, cutting off the warm air flowing in, knowing Calvin wouldn’t be half as loud as his aunt.
“Let me tell you, I’ve been grateful for the help you’ve provided over the years on the development of the Emperor’s Suit,” Calvin said, referring to a spectacular invention that made the wearer of the device invisible to the naked eye. Several governments had sent teams to kill Calvin simply to make off with the project for their own purpose. Thanks to a woman a security firm paired Calvin up with, they’d been unsuccessful. Though that didn’t keep them from trying. “I’m happy as hell that your schedule finally opened up. Now we can work on this final phase together.”
“Why are you splitting the contract in half?”
Daron had agreed to work on incorporating a tracker and camera into The Suit before he knew that Calvin was attempting to broker a three-billion-dollar deal with a three-million-dollar payout upon signing the contract. From what Daron heard, higher bids were coming in and that kind of money was nothing to take lightly.
“You’ll be an equal partner in the danger,” Calvin huffed.
“Unfortunately, I’m not a stranger to risk associated with projects like this. But you know that’s not the issue.”
“We can battle it out over the terms another time.”
“I want to talk to you about something urgent that has come up.”
Daron explained about inheriting the membership and Khalil’s proposal for him to team up with other men to tackle the challenges of The Castle.
“Originally, I had no intention of accepting something associated with Bishop, because I’m still trying to recover from the fallout of issues he left hanging. However, I felt a strong sense of obligation when it came to these new responsibilities, hoping it would be a benefit in sparking youth all over the United States to dream big.”
“I hear you,” Calvin said. “It amazes me how many low-income children haven’t been exposed to people like us, especially with STEM programs on the rise.”
“Not only that, but I also want to help convince a woman, who already has a plan to help those in need, that the time is now to step into her purpose. At the end of the day, before I even knew about the membership, I was hired for a job to protect someone within The Castle walls.”
Daron briefly spoke about the security contract he had with The Castle and requested to use The Suit. “People have already tried to kill Khalil and his son. I’d like to make sure he can move about undetected.”
“That explains two Suits, assuming one is for you, but you asked for eleven.”
“I’d like to protect the other eight men representing him. The additional one is for the expert I may need to call in.”
Daron told him a little about the Castle’s premise—the public parts— causing Calvin to give a low whistle of approval. “Wow, that’s pretty huge. I’ll see what I can do. Any chance that I …”
“It has to be nine men,” Daron said, anticipating the question. “I’ll put in a word for you since one of the men isn’t interested in claiming his seat at the table.”
Daron wrapped up the call as he maneuvered through the light street traffic heading to drop off his house keys to Cameron before another meeting at The Castle. This time, a more formal undertaking.
He parked, noticing a Bentley Flying Spur he’d never seen before on the street alongside the Community Center.
Daron stepped out, making sure his weapon was in easy reach. The tinted windows didn’t allow him to see whether anyone was inside. A few vehicles passed on the main road but there wasn’t much activity on the streets. The warm breeze blew the debris at his feet, but another sound caught his attention before he heard, “You’re a hard man to find.”
Just steps away from the Community Center, Daron turned toward the nasally voice and found a slim, short man with wide blue eyes, thin lips, and sunburnt skin who had an intense glare. Marquise Sinclair, leader of an art theft ring. According to the file his assistant had given him, Marquise became a member of The Castle for the power and the network to back up his schemes.
“Why are you even looking?” Daron noticed the muscular man who had been the group leader at the date night incident in the garage, leaning on a gray Bentley.
Marquise gave a stilted smile. “Just want to make an offer.”
“You have nothing I want.”
“I have the power to make sure that three-million-dollar deal you’re working on with Dr. Atwood doesn’t disappear.”
Daron chuckled, knowing Marquise’s contact was high enough up to have some of the facts, but not all, if he knew exactly how much was involved, they would be having an entirely different conversation. “That sounds more like a threat than an offer.”
“It’s the same thing.” Marquise glanced up at the darkening sky, taking in the clouds gathering in a sure sign of an upcoming rainstorm, then returned his focus to Daron. “It’s a question of do you want to do things the easy way or the hard way?”
Daron pressed the device in the pocket of his jacket to prevent the Community Center’s security cameras from recording. “How does having me accept this offer benefit you?” His opposite hand rested next to a Beretta holstered on his waist, a move that didn’t g
o unnoticed by Marquise’s backup.
“Bishop should have given me his seat. You’re not even remotely interested in what’s going on in that place right now. All you need to do is not allow The Castle to transfer into the hands of these new men when it’s time to decide its future.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Considering you inherited the membership from Bishop, you know the deal.” Marquise looked over his shoulder, and the muscle-bound man advanced across the street until he stood by his side. “Don’t let Khalil and Vikkas get you twisted and have your life lying in ruins.”
“Bishop and I have several things in common.” Daron stepped forward, unbothered by the attempt to intimidate him. “We make our own decisions and are not easily influenced by others. And we don’t take kindly to threats.”
“I hear you have a beautiful lady friend,” Marquise snarled, inching closer as the bodyguard pulled out a weapon of his own. “I’d hate for her to pay the cost of your unfortunate decision.”
Before the muscular man could react, Daron wrapped a hand around Marquise’s neck then whipped out the Beretta, aiming at the tough guy’s head. “And I hear you have a death wish.”
“We’re only here to make a business proposition.” Marquise struggled to remove Daron’s hand but to no avail.
“Sounded more like you were trying to make an enemy than an ally.” He tightened the grip on the man’s neck before releasing his hold. The weapon stayed trained on his goon.
Marquise cracked his neck, then glanced over his shoulder before wriggling his fingers. The goon produced a small black and gold envelope, which Marquise grabbed and tried to pass to Daron. “I’m going to give you some time and incentive to accept the offer.”
Marquise tossed the envelope on Daron’s car.
“What’s that?” Daron’s gaze never left the two of them as Marquise begin inching away, gesturing for the other man to follow.
When they made it to the Bentley, Marquise glanced back at Daron. “It’s the time and place I’m going to need that answer. Enjoy the taste of what will happen if you choose wrong.”
Before Daron could respond, Marquise had slipped into the back seat and closed the door. Daron crushed the envelope as the Bentley pulled away. He looked back to see Cameron’s face in the window. She turned away, but he could have sworn her expression had turned dark.
CHAPTER 37
Reno’s focus was keener than a sharp-shooter stalking its prey as he eyed the man responsible for the increased gang and drug activity near the transitional apartment grounds, a place where they housed women who came to them under the most extreme circumstances. The man had disposable wealth, so Reno couldn’t understand why he chose to live his life that way.
Frank Maddox, who leaned against the brick wall under the smoking prohibited sign, puffed a Black & Mild outside of the café where they agreed to meet. Reno quickly zeroed in on the firearm tucked in the waistband of his pants. The weapon wasn’t even concealed, which meant that Frank was as crazy as he was brazen. Only law enforcement paraded their guns around as such. Reno heeded the overt warning and opted for an introduction as Khalil’s former student and mentee.
The outdoor eating area was filled with patrons and their families, sitting under a brass awning with beautiful pastel flowers hanging above. A sweet cinnamon aroma swirled in the air as the servers traveled in and out of the café doors with dessert orders on trays. Reno envisioned him and Zuri partaking in afternoon delights at this place. The corners of his lips upturned, that is, until he shook the tender sentiment and focused on the only thing daunting about the atmosphere––the man who obviously didn’t belong.
“Good Morning,” Reno greeted, extending his hand to Frank, taking in his grandiose stature and wondered what he had done to become so huge. Steroids were the first things that came to mind.
Frank blew a smoke ring in the air, dropped the butt, then stomped it with his foot. “I know who you are, Mariano DeLuca, son of Giacomo and Emma DeLuca. Tell Vicente and Sofia I said hello.”
His parent’s names were common knowledge, but when Frank rattled off the names of his brother and sister, he’d be lying if he said that didn’t surprise him more than a little. But Frank wasn’t the only one who did his homework.
“Most certainly,” Reno responded, lowering his hand. “Be sure to give your wife, Tina, and your lovely daughter, Ava, my regards as well.”
For Frank to be a larger than life drug lord, his poker face needed much work. He narrowed the space between them and muttered, “Do you know who you’re playing with?” Frank’s right hand disappeared behind his back.
From his peripheral, Reno caught a glimpse of Kaleb rising from a table off to the side. He knew better than to trust a gangster, and although he couldn’t point anyone out specifically, Reno knew Frank wasn’t alone. So, he also had backup just in case things got out of hand. Reno wouldn’t let it get that far; too many innocent people were present, especially women and children.
Disregarding the question without breaking eye contact, Reno said, “Have a seat,” as he pulled out a chair, unbuttoned his blazer, and lowered into the basket-weave cushioned patio chair.
Frank remained standing. His knitted brows and cold stare said he wasn’t ready to let the exchange go. Reno was aware he’d turned the tables on the seasoned criminal. More than anything, Reno would bet his life that Frank wasn’t accustomed to anyone administering open threats to his face.
“I’m considering an opportunity and I would like your input,” Reno said, leaning back into the chair, hoping to disarm the brute of his anger. “From what I hear, you’ve been a Castle member for quite some time. Anything you can share would be appreciated in helping me make an informed decision.”
Frank’s knitted brows didn’t move an inch. “Watch yourself, DeLuca,” he warned, pointing his index finger at Reno, then tilting his head, closing one eye, and bending his thumb as if shooting Reno between the eyes. “No one threatens my family and lives to see another day.”
He stalked off and two other men sitting among the patrons followed behind him to an awaiting SUV with black-tinted windows. Frank and Reno exchanged eye contact right before Frank stepped into the vehicle and peeled away.
“That didn’t go as planned,” Kaleb said, claiming the seat across from Reno.
“Definitely not, but now I’m sure more than ever that I should to accept my appointment at The Castle,” Reno said with certainty, leaning forward. “First, as a way to pay homage to Khalil for all that he’s done for me––for us. Second, for the unlimited resources.” Reno paused, rubbing his hands together.
“What’s your little mastermind cooking up over there?” Kaleb asked, giving Reno the side-eye. “Does it have anything to do with Zuri?”
Reno chuckled. “Yes, but not the way you’re thinking.”
“I’m listening,” Kaleb said, flagging down the waitress.
“It’s about keeping Zuri and all of the women safe, then maybe we––”
“I knew you were into her,” Kaleb shot back, pounding his fist lightly on the table.
Shaking his head, Reno grinned. “I’ll admit, she does it for me, but first things first. We’re going to meet with the rest of our brothers and formulate a plan to exterminate the thorn threatening the women’s safety.”
“Frank Maddox?” Kaleb asked, glancing to the spot the SUV had vacated.
“Most definitely.”
CHAPTER 38
Dro tipped one brow and flashed Shaz a grin. “If you’d stop looking at your watch, maybe we could get some things done.”
The restaurant Shaz chose for their meeting was a popular one and had a fair number of people inside, so Shaz also kept an eye on the entrance. He didn’t want to miss Camilla when she arrived. “Very funny. I only looked once and that was because—”
With both hands in the air, Dro stopped him. “Yeah, yeah. We both know you can’t wait to see Camilla.”
Shaz bit back a chuckle. “Th
at might be true, but it has nothing to do with anything happening at this table.”
“In that case, why’d you look over my shoulder just now?”
With one hand on a bottle of Red Stripe Light Sorrel Beer, Shaz scoffed. “Whatever, man. Anyway, to get back to what you were saying …”
“Finally.” Dro leaned toward Shaz as he took a swig of beer. “That King member—Darryl Bennett—is in deeper than I thought at first. Aside from trying to get his hands on Camilla’s baby, seems he has a major hand in these rigged adoptions that lead into some of the children ending up as unwilling organ donors.”
A flash of anger filled him. Camilla’s child could not end up that way. No child should. Stroking his locks, Shaz frowned at the beer bottle then asked, “That would mean he has more connections than we know.”
Kings of the Castle Page 15
