Chapter Eighteen

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Phillips, Domonic

Walking back-and-forth, I didn't understand how we didn't know this Jeremy nigga didn't have a twin. And because of it, I had to hand my father the news on how we killed Jeremy but left his other half alive.


Walking into his office, I could hear him talking loud like he usually does and I really didn't give a fuck because at the end of the day it was only business between my father, not a son-and-dad relationship.

I walked in to hear him talking but nowhere to be found. He wasn't behind his desk, so I just sat down at one of the chairs in front of them, suspecting that he was in the bathroom instead that was connected to his office.

"Yeah, baby, you know I," he paused and I turned around to see him standing there in a white v-neck, a pair of gym shorts, and a pair of slides which didn't surprise me since his office was at home. "Let me call you back, baby."

I chuckled and turned my head, that's how disrespectful my father was. He was on the phone with another bitch that I'm sure wasn't even my momma. I couldn't do anything but shake my head and laugh. He fucks around on my mother, beat on her, and she lets him. Can't feel shit for her.

"What's up son?"

I shrugged my shoulders.
"Shit. Did you know that that Jeremy nigga you asked me to murk had a twin?"

He sat down in his seat and nodded his head, sitting back,"Yeah, I did. You killed him too?"

I shook my head. "Nah I didn't because you failed to tell me anybody who could fucking get in the way of what I'm do-"

Interrupting me, he laughed pulling a cigar out of his desk and lighting it. "You don't want to make me upset son, I promise you don't."

I stood up, and chuckled sick of his shit. He always liked to play these fucking games with me, and I usually would back down but after all that shit that went down, I didn't give a fuck.

"I don't give a fuck about making you upset, Jefferey. Stop playing games with me, and my fucking throne."

He laughed, as I realized I called his throne my own. "Your thrown? I built this shit up from not a pot to piss in, or a window to throw it out of, so before you start calling my throne, your throne realize you got this shit easy, but I can make it hard."

He stared at me waiting for a response but I decided to keep my mouth closed, and handle this another way. I was sick of him, sick of this shit. I would always be one step closer to the throne and he would do some shit on purpose to throw me off.

It doesn't matter if I got it easy or not. I still do the same shit and I'm still on the same levels and I wish I would let anyone take that from me. Not even my father.

I didn't want shit from him anymore, I decided that I would get this shut on my own if I had too, and I build my own and if I have to knock him down in the process then I would. He thought what I was doing was easy, I glared at him as he smirked at me.

"Well, make it hard."

He chuckled, and pulled the cigar to his lips, letting out smoke. "You sure you want to go to war with me, remember my son, I'm smarter than you, book and street. You can't even fucking go to class everyday, you can't even figure shit out in the streets. Your only making it because of me."

I shrugged my shoulders.
"Do what you do."


He looked at me like I had lost my mind but kept his same smirk because no matter how much shit he talked, I knew deep down he was scared, and probably wasn't expecting the shit that was coming to him.

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