NELLE.

CH 5.

I sighed while getting out the car and walking towards Black, with Pharaoh not too far behind me.

Black looked me up and down before smirking to himself, telling whoever he was on the phone with that he'd call them back later, then hung up the phone and put it in his back pocket. "Lil' Baby?" He asked while walking towards me, nodding at Pharaoh. "In the flesh," I replied chuckling, I was now standing in front of him, as he grabbed me into a hug.

"Who'd a thought Pharaoh stuck up ass woulda' let you out the house?" He said, I laughed and pulled away from the hug. "Yeah 'Ight Nigga, I'll show you stuck up," Pharaoh spoke from behind me; Black chuckled, walking around me to dap him up.

"'Ight, so what's goin' on?" I asked after they'd both walked from behind me and stood in front of me.

"You found out who was called?" Pharaoh questioned Black, he nodded. "Yeah, Paris said it was that one Nigga Banks, 'Siah comin'?" He replied,  Pharaoh shook his head, "I been sent that lil' Nigga off, he gotta' baby comin' soon."

Black nodded, then quickly arched his eyebrow. "So how we gon' do this if 'Siah not here?" He questioned.

Pharaoh then nodded towards my direction, Black then looked at me somewhat stunned, he laughed.

I took offense, "Fuck you laughin' for funny lookin' muh' fucka'?" I spoke. Apparently, I wasn't the only one who had the question, just as I said that I looked towards Pharaoh who held the expression of— Is this Nigga good?

Black then looked at Pharaoh slightly annoyed. "Banks Nigga?" He said, Pharaoh still looked confused, Black then sighed and rolled his eyes; "Crooked."

After he said that, Pharaoh started coughing like his spit just went down the wrong pipe, "Oh sh—." His coughing stopped him from finishing his sentence, I arched my eyebrow while looking at them both. "Who's Banks?" I asked, Pharaoh walked back towards the car to get himself together.

Black answered my question as Pharaoh walked away, "Banks is our main connect. He supplies us wit' our positions, network, product, and employees every so often." He paused, "He a crooked muh' fucka' though I'll say that."

"Crooked?" I replied, he nodded.

"Crooked meanin', he a complicated Nigga to negotiate wit', his motto is either his way or no way at all. Only Nigga I've known to alter his ego is 'Siah, which is why we gon' be fucked if 'Siah ain't gon' be around for a while."

"Nigga used to work side by side wit' Ken," I jumped as Pharaohs' voice spoke from behind me, he let out a low chuckle in response to my action. "Only reason that's his 'motto' is because of him," He continued.

It was at that moment I knew exactly who Banks was; Pharaoh had always told me stories about the Two, about how even though they differed in multiple ways they'd always worked perfectly together. I knew that about Ken, I'd just never gotten a name as to who he'd been working with all those years.

Ken was Pharaohs' Father, the start of all of this. The reason I was in Pharaohs' possession to begin with, he'd worked side by side with Banks for as long as anyone could remember; he was the brains, Banks was the beauty. Ken finessed his way into the game while Banks made everything look good to the public eye, they then both taught Pharaoh everything they knew about the game, and how to win: it's chess, not checkers.

Although, after a while, Ken started to realize that Banks' morals were all types of fucked up, he was too arrogant and flashy, he talked too much about what he had to spend. After seeing that, he took Pharaoh under his own wing and taught him what he thought was better, after all it was his son.

One day Pharaoh got a call from his Mother, Anna. She was sobbing hysterically, going on and on about how her Husband hadn't come home that weekend, after stating that he'd be on a business trip with some of his colleagues; she begged her son to go out and search for his Father, which is what he did. Not too long after finding his lifeless body bleached, and bagged after being shot in the arm and head, taking multiple stab wounds to the abdomen and torso as well. After that day, he swore to his Fathers' corps he'd find out who did it and make them suffer Ten times as much as he did.

Though after his death the streets started to talk, so he had to put his vengeance on pause. He never talked about him much after that experience, just like he never stopped looking, but the World didn't stop because someone he cared about died, 'nor did it stop the fact that he had a life of his own to live and money to make.

Knowing it was Banks who I'd be negotiating with sent a shiver down my spine, I'm guessing Pharaoh felt my anxiety about the situation because he rested his hand on the small of my back: a minor still calming gesture.

"Everybody's inside gettin' prepared," Black told Pharaoh while checking his phone, "Paris just sent me the address." Pharaoh nodded then looked down at me, "Go inside, we leavin' in Sixty," I nodded.

"Who the fuck says that?" Black mumbled to himself, "Nigga just say an hour."

I laughed walking away, making my way into the building.

Passing the front entrance, I made a right and walked down a narrow hallway, stopping at the stabled metal door with a wide-centered peephole placed in the far left of the building. I knocked three times before hearing footsteps approach the other side of the door.

"Who is it?" The voice on the other side asked, it was a younger guy from what I was hearing.

"Nelle," I replied.

"Who?" He questioned once more.

I huffed and rolled my eyes, whoever this Nigga was obviously didn't know what he was doing. Everyone that worked for Pharaoh knew of me, whether it be by questions asked around, or rumors being spread; Niggas knew. "It's Ne—,"

"Fuck is you doin' Nigga?"

Before I could finish telling him my name another voice was heard from behind the door, followed by the slamming of something against it, and the guy behind it shouting in pain. A few seconds later the door was opened, and I was met with the unfriendly mug of Paris Jackson.