𝐑𝐮𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐭 ✪ YBN Nahmir

𝐂𝐇. 29 / 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 ; 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐮𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐞 ⍟

MATURE CONTENT
CONTAINED WITHIN
THIS CHAPTER.

       Nahmir and Yéri climbs out the black Lexus before walking towards the unfamiliar building. It read 'Hooligan' on the red neon sign before the entrance. They walked into the building as the smell of indigo hit them harshly. Yéri takes a deep breather as she grips onto Nahmir's sleeve.

     There was strippers dancing on men while a woman was on the pole coming down from the ceiling. Yéri kisses her teeth, she's never mastered that. Nahmir grab ahold of her forearm as they passed a group of leering men. As they gotten passed the men, he opens a velvet door revealing a light fair toned, chunky, hispanic man. He was puffing on one of the thickest woods in the century. Yéri looks at his rough mustache and bushy brows as he sits in the black chair, peeking up at them while he puts a few papers away in a filing cabinet.

    "Ah, Mr. Santana!" the man grumbles as he held out his hand to shake, "You look even more dashing in person."

    Nahmir handshakes with him, "How're you doing, Mr. Garcia?" Yéri sits in one of the metal button round chairs.

     "I'm doing just fine, thank you for asking. Anyway, let's get to business," Mr. Garcia says as he leans over to the filing cabinet, "let's review the forms, shall we."

    He firmly placed the sheets onto the all black wooden table, "How exactly discreet is your empire?"

     "Very. Everything is imported and exported carefully. We check every barcode and tracking address before we exported and we check the product before it's imported," Nahmir answers.

    "So say if I wanted to trade stock for stock with you, how much would that be?" Mr. Garcia leans back in his chair, puffing his joint.

     "You'd have to pay a bid to move a certain stock from our storage."

     "How good is the quality of your produce?"

"I'd say it's best quality than any others in Los Angeles. Everything we sell is self created or imported by the Ghanaian's. Their produce are the best to buy since they're more authentic in ingredients," Nahmir talks properly. Yéri was surprised.

     "Since I see that you have agreed to partner, when is a available time to mesh products into your unit? What about workers?"

    "A good time is two weeks from now on the seventh of next month. We need time to ship and regulate before we could have anymore ascending activity. As for the employees, we need time to look over their files to make sure they're really needed in our empire."

    Me. Garcia nods, pleased to what he was hearing, "Yes. I agree with what you're saying. The seventh is a deal. I have some of my best workers in file right now. I'll give you half of them for your empire," he looks through the manilla folders before gripping a few extra folders. He sets them on the desk before sliding them over to Nahmir. Nahmir grabs them.

    "Alright, Mr. Garcia. I'll see you on the seventh. We'll be ready," Nahmir salutes.

    "Alright, Mr. Santana."

   Nahmir grabs Yéri's wrist before exiting the office. Yéri just witness him handling business for the second time. Except she wasn't sleeping this time. She didn't understand half of the things they spoke about. They exit the building and climbs back into the car.

     "I've never seen you talk so proper before," said Yéri, "never thought you could be so formal."

    "Yeah, I have to. Not everybody gone understand slang," he backs out the parking lot.