ᴍᴇᴍᴏʀɪᴇꜱ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛʜᴇɴ

MBN-9

outside🍃 

Qui pov

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As Qui stepped out of the trap house, the cool night air hit his face, but it did nothing to ease the heat building in his chest. His mind was racing. K3's words played over and over in his head—Leon and Oblock weren't just pulling petty moves, they were trying to dismantle them from the inside. And now, there was a rat feeding them everything.

Qui moved to his car, hands in his pockets, deep in thought. He'd seen gang wars play out before. They weren't clean, and they damn sure weren't fair. But when it was one of your own working against you? That was a whole new level of betrayal.

The car door shut with a heavy thud, and he sat there for a moment, staring at the dimly lit street in front of him. He knew what came next—waiting, watching, and then handling things the only way they knew how. If K3's plan went down right, tomorrow could be the beginning of the end for whoever had been running their mouth. But until then, every move had to be calculated.

He started the car, the engine's low rumble blending into the silence of the night. The weight of the situation sat heavy on his chest. His instincts were sharp, and something about this whole thing wasn't sitting right with him. There were too many unknowns, too many loose ends. And in this life, loose ends were a death sentence.

As he drove, his mind wandered back to the meeting. Rico, K3, the rest of the crew—any one of them could be the rat. They'd been together for years, but loyalty didn't mean what it used to. Greed, fear, or pressure could turn a man quick. And if Leon had gotten to someone in their gang, that person was already a dead man walking.

His phone buzzed in the center console, pulling him out of his thoughts. Glancing down, he saw it was K3 again. Qui picked up, putting the phone to his ear as he turned onto the freeway.

"Yo," he answered.

"We need to move faster than I thought," K3 said on the other end, his voice low but urgent. "Leon's boys made another hit tonight."

"What?" Qui's grip on the steering wheel tightened. "Where?"

"One of our minor spots. Wasn't much there, but it's the fact they knew. Same shit—too clean. They're close, man. Too damn close."

Qui cursed under his breath. "They tryin' to bleed us out slow. Testin' how much we got."

"That's exactly it," K3 agreed. "They ain't tryna come all out at once. They're just chippin' away, waitin' for us to break. We can't let that happen."

"We won't," Qui said, his mind already shifting into gear. "What's the play? We stick with the fake drop tomorrow?"

"Yeah, but we gonna tweak it a bit," K3 replied. "I want more eyes on it. Leon's too smart—he ain't sendin' his main guys for these hits. He's sending foot soldiers, nobodies. We need to figure out who's close to him, who's feeding him."

Qui nodded, even though K3 couldn't see him. It made sense. Leon wasn't sloppy; if this was his game, he was keeping his distance, using low-level guys to do the dirty work. "You think he's got someone high up feeding him?"

"Gotta be," K3 said grimly. "This ain't just some random street shit. Whoever's feeding Leon is deep in our business. And that means they're deep in our crew."