CHAPTER 31
Glen Allen, Virginia
A black-on-black Maserati, running 25 miles per hour above the speed limit, hooked a hard right off West Broad onto Pump Road. It had been raining, so the roads were slick, but the low-profile tires on the sports car hugged the pavement as if the two were reunited lovers, refusing to release its hold.
Caesar had a relentless need for speed, and he appreciated the way the Maserati performed under his skillful touch, obeying his every command. Few things in life made him feel more alive than going fast. Whether in a car or on a bike, it didn’t matter, as long as it moved fast and he was the one in control. Along with a being a speed freak, Caesar was also a control freak.
Everything had to be his way or no way—his sexual relations, the food he ate, in business, and at play. Everything. The only thing in Caesar’s life that he didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of controlling was his brother, Fitz.
That needs to change, he thought as he turned onto Snow Peak Lane. A touch of an app on his phone screen raised the garage door. The Maserati settled in between a cocaine-white Rolls and a crimson-pearl Bentley coupe. Adjacent to the garage was a $1.1 million hideaway pad, which he shared with Tracey, one of his many lovers. Since being exiled from Miami by Fitz, and since Bianca moved away to his old stomping grounds, a lot of things had changed for the better. This was now his home away from home.
Yet, today, something felt off. He’d used the kitchen entrance, and although nothing seemed out of place, he felt a pain in his stomach the second he walked in. Was it paranoia or a gut feeling? Either way, whatever it was, he felt uneasy. And where the fuck was Tracey?
He shouted, “Traceyyyy!” A few beats went by.
No answer.
“Trae, baby?” He called out again.
A couple of beats later, he heard a familiar voice say, “Tracey is no longer with us.” The voice came from the living room.
But how the hell did he find me? Caesar thought. And better yet, why is he looking?
Fitz waltzed into the kitchen with an arrogant half-grin on his face. “I bet you’re wondering how I found your bitch ass.”
It wasn’t like he was hiding from his brother. Caesar had just chosen not to let him, or anyone in the family, know where he was staying.
Fitz looked at Caesar in disgust. Caesar grabbed a vase and threw it at him.
Fitz stepped to the left and laughed. “You still a pussy-ass nigga. When are you going to ever get some balls?” Fitz asked Caesar.
Caesar just glared at his brother. “What the fuck do you want? Why are you here?”
Fitz ignored the question. “Oh, but you did finally get the gumption about yourself. You out of the closet, living with a flaming-ass gay man.” He shook his head.
“You would never let me do it in Miami.”
“Me?” Fitz pointed to his own chest. “I wouldn’t let you? Now, how does that measure out? I wouldn’t let you be gay in Miami? One of the places where damn near anything goes?”
Caesar’s nose started to sweat. He was so angry. “I stayed in the closet out of respect for you, for the business, for the family.”
“For me? Hardly. You stayed in the closet because you didn’t have the balls to come out and face the music. Because you are soft and you are a pussy, probably more pussy than that thing in there.”
A light went off in Caesar’s head. “Where’s Tracey?” Caesar asked.
“Your gump fuck partner? Oh, he’s dead,” Fitz said. “Two to the head, nice and neat.”
Caesar charged full speed toward his brother, screaming, “You fucking bastard!” The reckless move sort of caught Fitz off guard. Caesar’s shoulder slammed into Fitz’s midsection, blasting some of the wind from his lungs. But Fitz recuperated quickly and kneed Caesar in the face. The blow knocked Caesar straight on his ass.
Fitz, sucking air, said, “Your bitch ass killed our sister to keep the filthy little secret that you and Viper were fucking! You murdered our sister! Our fucking sister!” The way the word “fucking” came out, it could have killed Caesar. “You didn’t think that I’d never put it together, did you? You didn’t think that Viper would ever tell a soul, did you? Well, guess what? He did!”
Caesar stammered. “Y–you don’t understand. I h–had t–to do it.”
“You had to do it, huh?”
Fitz pulled out a pistol. Probably the same one he used to kill Tracey, thought Caesar.
“No, I don’t understand,” Fitz said as he squeezed the trigger.
Somehow, Caesar had managed to get his hands on his own Glock. He didn’t want to shoot his brother, but Fitz hadn’t left him much of a choice.
BOOM! BOOM!
Both brothers unloaded on each other at the same time.
CHAPTER 32
While waiting to board her flight, Bianca had finally called Bella, who had been sending her Instagram messages, apologizing and practically begging for her forgiveness. When she left, Caesar had met up with Bella and shared everything with her about Peanut. So now, going back to Virginia with God only what waiting for her, Bianca decided to call her sister.
“Sister,” she said.
“Oh my God! Thank you for calling.”
Bianca cut her sister off before she started on an emotional roller coaster. “Girl, it’s okay. Listen. I don’t have time for the apologies and the whole reunion right now. Just know some heavy shit is going on, and if I never needed you, I need you now!”
“Say no more. I got you. I’m sorry about the situation. I will never do anything to hurt you, and I will do whatever you want to do about Peanut.”
“Fuck Peanut. He’s going to have his day. Don’t worry. He gon’ get his! But this is what I need: I’ma need you to pick me
