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When the weed wears off and the room goes still,
it's his name that echoes.
His weight against your shoulder.
His hand on your chest.
And suddenly the line between comfort and something else starts to blur.
﹡ ﹡ ﹡
Karis is a cold blooded killer and didn't give a fuck what anyone has to say about it. Karis and his crew want to be the last ones standing in a crew war that's going on in their hood.
Don is a king pin that rules with an iron fist and just like Karis he's a cold blooded killer and didn't give a damn who he had to put down.
What happens when Don needs a new crew to run his drugs and is introduced to a hardheaded trigger happy Karis?