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"Serene. Serene wake up baby." Dave tapped her, and she opened her eyes, her face scrunched up.
"Hm?" She rubbed her eye.
"I'm leaving mama. Kiss me." He mumbled.
"No Cairo I haven't brushed my teeth." She frowned, and he did as well.
He grabbed her neck, kissing her lips, and she laughed, pushing him away, and he smiled.
"Ion give no fucks. I love you." He kissed her and Kairi's forehead.
"I love you too papi. Call me yeah?" She mumbled, wrapping her arms around Kairi.
"Yeah baby." He chuckled, watching her doze off.
He quietly walked out of her room, then out of her apartment. He used his key to lock the door, before getting on the elevator and leaving.
His phone rung as he drove, and he put it to his ear.
"Yo." He spoke, pulling up at a red light.
"Nigga we got a problem, you need to get here." His bestfriend, Shooter, said.
"I'm on my way in." Dave replied, then hung up.
He shook his head, pulling in his trap.
He parked his car, getting out. His had gotten a new, more discreet building this month. His trap looked like an ordinary building, covered up with a tattoo shop to clean his money.
He nodded his head at the tattoo artists, walking to the 'break room'.
He closed the door, walking over to the vending machine. He pressed 7224 on the keypad, and Cheetos dropped, before the vending machine opened, leading to a hall.
Dave walked in, and the vending door closed, and he walked into his trap.
"Wassup?" He dapped Shooter up, who had a frown on his face.
Shooter led him to his office, closing the door.
"Nigga you making me anxious what the fuck happened?" Dave frowned.
"The connect in Miami, it's a problem with him." Shooter said.
"You ain't telling me shit, fuck you mean by that?" Dave sat on his desk.
"He said we fucked with his product, and he got a hit out for you. 700 bands." Shooter shook his head, and Dave chuckled.
"Nigga mad cause his shit weak. I got 700 bands times 20. The fuck." Dave picked up his office phone, dialing the connect's number.
