And bury me with bitches by my side 'Cause I swear that when I die, I'm taking everything that's mine All the girls and the guys With their eyes on the prize who could never get a dime
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The room smells of sweat and fear. I can feel it lingering in the air, thick and heavy. The warehouse is dimly lit, the kind of place where deals are made and bodies disappear, where unfinished business meets a brutal end. It's a perfect setting for what's about to go down.
I stand in the center, my back straight, my hands resting at my sides, calm. You have to be when you deal with the kinds of people.
Tonight is important. More important than the others. The deal I'm making will change everything for me. I'm here on behalf of my organization—the one that owns the streets of the U.S. while 'Black Viper' has its grip here.
The gang I'm meeting isn't exactly known for keeping their word. They've got a reputation, just like me, but theirs is built on desperation. That's the difference between us—I don't get desperate. I get even.
The doors creak open, and I see them enter. Five men. Akshat, their leader, nearly 5 years older than me, walks in front, his eyes darting around the room before they land on me. He's a rat, and he knows it.
I don't say anything at first. Just let the silence drag out. My men stand around, watching, waiting. They're loyal, not out of love, but because they've seen what happens to those who aren't. Fear keeps them in line.
Finally, I speak, my voice low but clear. "You brought the money?"
He tosses a briefcase onto the table between us. The sound echoes in the room, sharp and loud in the silence. "You brought the toys?" he asks, his tone more confident than it should be.
I signal to one of my guys. He drags a metal case forward and opens it, revealing the weapons inside. Akshat's eyes widen slightly, though he tries to hide it. He's impressed. He should be. These guns aren't the kind you find on the streets—they're military-grade, lethal, and worth a fortune.
Something's off. I can feel it. The tension in the air is thicker than usual. I've been in enough of these deals to know when something's about to go wrong.
I watch him carefully. He's shifting his weight, his eyes darting to his coat. I can see it—the moment he decides to make his move.
And then, all hell breaks loose.
He pulls a gun from his coat, aiming it at me. His men reach for their weapons. Before he can even fire, I flip the table in front of me, using it as a shield. Bullets ricochet off the metal. My men surround his men, and I put the table back on the floor. The table between us feels like a thin boundary between two worlds, both dangerous, both teetering on the edge.
