Page 14 of The Fire We Make

Without pausing the filing of her nails, April gave her report. “I went to the Cancer Society fundraising gala last week and that developer Tony Grayson was telling everyone his excuse for not being a top donor this year was because he’s having financial problems and was thinking of selling some of his prime real estate in the city. Might be a good business venture to snatch some of that up,” she shrugged. “Oh and Senator Perry was fucking his secretary in the bathroom while his wife sat at their table. I got pics.”

Ace chuckled. “Those will definitely come in handy.”

“Exactly. I’ll send you the encrypted files of the photos, Jrue,” she threw over her shoulder. Jrue nodded silently.

“Thank you baby girl,” Senior said. Wordlessly, he turned to Ace.

Ace began his report. “Tyrell and I came to an understanding about his debt. Aug, keep an eye out for that in the next,” he paused to look at his watch, “twelve hours.”

August nodded.

“Keyshawn’s trial was this afternoon and everything is handled on that front but we have bigger fish to fry. Harris is back sniffing up our asses again and it seems there’s a new DA that has his sights set on us.”

Jrue snorted. “So did the rest of them.”

“Exactly. And until this one learns the lessons those did, we need to keep this ship running tight. Any liabilities or anyone even suspected of cooperating with law enforcement needs to be eliminated immediately. He’s gonna be looking for any footholds and we can’t give him any.”

“Understood,” Von nodded. As head of their street operations, it would be his job to root out any potential liabilities.

That was when Remy spoke up. “Speaking of, that nigga Perry was seen talking to a detective from the 52nd precinct.” He tossed black and white surveillance photos onto the table that sure enough showed their Queens Lieutenant sitting at a diner with a plainclothes cop. “I did some digging and it looks like they’re holding his mama over him. She was arrested for selling knockoffs in the Bronx.”

Ace scoffed. Why did folks continue to learn the hard way that if you took matters into your own hands rather than coming to him with legal troubles, it would always end badly?

“Well now she gone be selling fish plates to bury that nigga,” Ace said definitively.

Von chuckled. “You a cold ass motherfucka, boy.”

Ace shrugged. Their family had lasted as long as they had without hiding in the shadows by keeping a firm hand on their operations and eliminating all weak links. Perry was a good soldier but Ace no longer trusted him and with the Kings, that was a death sentence.

“Does anyone have any final remarks before we adjourn?” Senior asked, scanning the room. When everyone shook their head, he nodded.

“Now that business is concluded, I just want to make the formal announcement that at the start of the new year I’ll be stepping down,” Senior said. “I’ll still be on at the firm but I’ll be turning over my position in the family to Ace if he accepts.”

“You sick, daddy?” April asked, worry etching her features.

Senior waved her off. “Healthy as an ox, baby. I just wanna spend more time with your mother. Maybe enjoy some grandkids if one of y’all would settle down.” He sent a pointed side eye at Ace who pretended not to notice it.

The oldest of his siblings at 34, he’d been hearing snide remarks and petitions for grandkids for years and was unfazed.

Though arranged marriages were still the standard amongst crime families, the Kings were more lenient towards love matches. That leniency was wasted on Ace, though. He’d long ago given up on the idea of romantic love.

“I’m sure Von got a few running around Brooklyn, we just gotta find ‘em,” Ace joked. He was sure his brother had been sowing his royal oats all over New York and beyond.

That earned laughs from around the table.

Von smacked his lips. “I wrap my shit up nigga,” he protested.

Once they settled, Pops, who had been silent until this point, cleared his throat. Zachariah King was a man of few words but plenty action. While Ace learned his disarming charm from Senior, he inherited his silent but deadly approach from his grandfather.

“Grandson, do you accept?”

“I do,” Ace nodded.

Claps and whoops sounded from Ace’s siblings and the Kincaids, but he kept a blank expression.

He’d known this day was coming. Since the day he was born, Ace’s life revolved around the day that he took over the King Mafia from his father and carried on the legacy his grandfather started. It seemed that day had come.

“Who will your team be?” Senior asked.