Chapter XII

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"I knew that it would be just a matter of time before you found your way back home, son. You know, they say that the best way to make money is to keep it in the family. We had a beautiful thing going on in the past, so why you chose to seek work elsewhere is beyond me. That aside, I'm glad that you've decided to continue our business relationship. This is the way your father wanted things to be, right? Let's respect his wishes." Angelo Diaz grabbed the bottle of 2007 Tenuta dell'Ornellaia Masseto from the center of the table and refilled the glasses of three of the four people present. He sat the bottle down and adjusted his tie. "Now, shall we pick up right where we left off, or would you like to renegotiate our agreement?"

Tremaine watched as his godfather took a sip of the expensive wine and ate a forkful of the pasta on his plate. Next to Angelo, Tremaine's godmother Isabel sat. With her expensive attire, perfectly made-up face, and costly jewels, she looked like the usual trophy wife to most, but everyone that knew the Diaz's personally knew that she was much more than that. She was as much of a rider as any man. Even at the ripe age of fifty-two, she'd pull out a gun and blast on anybody whenever Angelo said the word. The couple had been wreaking havoc in the streets together since they were twenty-five years old, and they had no plans of stopping any time soon.

On Tremaine's left was Lynise, whose usual week-long stay in Miami had multiplied many times on that trip, much to Julian's dismay since he had to go back to work after staying a week. Tremaine had told Lynise that she wasn't going anywhere until he was able to work again. Luckily for her, Raequan had gotten sick the day before she was supposed to leave, so she had a genuine reason to stay behind.

In her brand new Christian Dior ensemble, she looked like a bag of money. Though she wasn't wearing any kind of make-up, she had been turning heads since they entered the establishment. At first glance, people would assume that she, too, was just a piece of eye-candy. The gun in the thigh holster under her dress begged to differ.

Although everyone at the table was strapped, there was no animosity between the pairs. The Diaz's were Tremaine's godparents, after all. They had been taking care of him since his father died when he was fifteen, and they adored him just as much as they did their eight biological kids. They loved Lynise as if she were their daughter, and they refused to believe that Lynise and Tremaine were no longer an item. In their minds, she would one day be Mrs. Tremaine Alexander Zarell. The moderately-sized ring that Julian had given her meant nothing to them, and they made it known.

Tremaine cleared his throat after drinking some of the water in his glass. "Pop, as much as I hate to say it, this arrangement won't be permanent. I just need to cop from you until my business partner gets out of jail, which should be fairly soon. In all actuality, this might be the only time that I buy from you again. Now, if that's a problem for you, I understand. If you choose not to work with me, there'll be no hard feelings or anything."

Angelo's expression became a little less joyous, but the thought of making money kept a smile on his face. "Don't be ridiculous, Tremaine. I'll be one transaction richer if I agree to this, and you know that I'm all about a dollar. But you know my policy. I don't deal in small amounts."

"Have I ever come to you with foolishness? I'm trying to feed the south eventually. I can't do that by buying ounces and shit," Tremaine stated.

"That's true." Angelo leaned back in his seat and continued eating. "What do you need?"

"Three thousand bricks."

Upon hearing Tremaine's request, Angelo instantly began to choke on the food he'd put into his mouth seconds before. He stood up, and Isabel followed suit. She patted him on the back repeatedly as she smiled at the smug grin that was on Tremaine's face. Moments later, Angelo was finally able to swallow his food. He placed his hand on his chest and leaned forward after sitting back down. "Jesus, Tremaine. You were buying just three hundred a month not too long ago."

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