𝓒HAPTER THIRTY-ONE. volume 2, illmatic i THE ENDING IS NEAR.
Funny How The Ones You Ride With' End Up The First To Switch On You. Malik, Though? Never Thought He'd Snake Me Like This. We Was Brothers—Came Up From The Same Dirt. Now He's Out Here With Sosa, Thinkin' He Can Move In Silence, Plottin' Like I Don't See It. But Power Ain't Just About Muscle, It's 'Bout Reading The Streets Before They Even Start Talking. When It's All Said & Done, They'll Know—This Empire Is Mine, & Ain't Nobody, Not Even Family, Gonna Snatch It From Me.
- 𝒥uan Collins
ILLMATIC II.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
JUAN C. SCARFACE. A.K.A 𝓣HE HARLEM BOY. 𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐂 II| VOLUME TWO. ❝ THE ENDING IS NEAR. ❞ [ HARLEM, NY ]
[ COUPLE DAYS LATER... ]
The city lights reflected off the slick, rain-soaked streets, casting a ghostly glow onto the asphalt as Scar's Bentley glided through the urban jungle. The car was more than just a mode of transportation—it was a symbol of his rise, of the respect that was beginning to ripple across Jersey. The gold rims were like a crown, turning heads even in the darkest corners. Scar's reputation was like a slow-moving storm, quietly gathering strength, unseen by many, but felt by all. He didn't need to flash his face—his presence was enough. The whispers on the streets weren't about who he was but what he represented: power, control, and the sharp edge of ambition. Inside the Bentley, Scar sat back with a quiet confidence. He wasn't one to talk much; his actions did the talking for him. The soft hum of the engine filled the air as his hands rested on the steering wheel, his gold rings catching the dim light from the street lamps. Every piece of jewelry he wore wasn't just for show—they were his armor, symbols of the weight he carried. The chains around his neck, heavy with meaning, clinked softly as the car rolled over potholes, the rhythmic sound like the ticking of a clock, counting down to whatever he had in motion tonight.
Beside him, Roki was the embodiment of calculated allure. Her flawless makeup was a mask, concealing the depth of thoughts running through her mind. Her black fur coat draped over her slim frame like a shadow, adding an extra layer of mystery. Every movement she made, from adjusting her hoops to crossing her legs, was deliberate—an artful display of control. She wasn't just along for the ride. There was a spark in her eyes, a shared understanding with Scar that went unspoken. She could feel the streets watching her too, and that was part of the plan. Roki wasn't just Scar's passenger—she was his equal, a partner in whatever this night had to offer.
Colby and Ace, sitting in the back, had their own roles to play. Colby, tall and wiry, was always on edge, eyes scanning the streets as if waiting for something to jump off. His mind was a constant calculation, always preparing for the next move, the next obstacle. Ace, on the other hand, was calm. Muscular but quiet, his stoic expression betrayed nothing. He was Scar's enforcer, the one who made sure the plans went smoothly, and if they didn't, he was there to clean up the mess. As they cruised through the city, the rain picked up, creating a soft tapping on the roof of the car. The night had a sense of anticipation, like something big was about to happen. Scar had just set his plan in motion, but the details were kept tight, even from his closest allies. Only he knew the full scope of what was coming.
