Raise 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥 to this 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭, and 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 this.
When they turn out the lights, I'll be down in the 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤.
Thuggin' eternal through my heart, now 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐥 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐲 nigga.
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"His fucking kidneys worth two hundred thousand. Nah, don't take the heart, that's chump change. Yeah, take his liver too. Man aight." Saint spoke irritably in his phone, sitting in front of a computer.
"Y'all come back without my shit, I'ma take y'all's. Get the fuck off my phone." He ran his hand down his face, placing the phone back on the receiver.
He didn't understand how it was so hard to follow two simple tasks. Kill the person, take the organs. It was quite straightforward if he did say so himself.
"Two, four, six, eight, ten, uh, sixteen million?" He clicked his teeth, wondering if he should buy the large sum of product on his computer screen.
Normally he stuck to his original plugs, but he felt like the streets needed more from him, so he was currently searching to upgrade his product.
He had to make sure he always had the new and improved drugs, because it would affect his business if he didn't.
He sold drugs all over the east coast, besides Florida. Florida wasn't his territory, and to be a respectful business partner in the game, he never crossed boundaries.
To be successful, you had to know your limits. If you were hot headed and problematic, you wouldn't make many business partners, which means no connects, which amounts to no money.
He stayed on his side, and the other Sovereigns stayed on their sides, and out of his way. Just the way he liked.
Saint leaned back in his seat, drowsily running his hand down his face, tired from the long day. He'd been at his office since eight this morning, and it was pushing four o'clock in the afternoon.
There was a knock on his door, and he removed his hand from his face, granting them permission inside.
"Sorry for bothering you sir. Here's your schedule for tomorrow, you have a meeting around noon with the Spanish conquistador, Miguel, to test his brand new methamphetamine. Check out a development at three, and dinner with the Ross' at six." His assistant, Alayna, sat a stack of papers on his desk.
He groaned, already annoyed with tomorrow and it wasn't even here yet.
"Anything else?" He sarcastically exasperated, making her chuckle, nodding.
"Don't forget to go down to the center before you go home tonight." She added, and he cursed to himself, because he'd forgotten.
"That's it?" He looked up at her, and she nervously nodded once he assertive eyes locked on hers.
"How many bodies we got downstairs?" He stood up, his large figure towering over hers as he buttoned his dress shirt that'd came undone.
"Seventy two, and I think a new load is coming in, I have to check." She responded, and he nodded, grabbing his coat.
