of the mansion with admiration.
“You have a beautiful home darling. It's too bad it's about to get bloody, tanks to your husband.”
With pleading eyes, Tara begged Patra to spare Zie.
“Please... Spare me son’s life. I don't know wat my husband has done, but Zie is only eight. Don't punish him for de sins of his father...”
Finally getting himself together, Tigga fumbled to answer the call. As the screen of the phone came to life, nothing could help prepare him for what he saw. Two AK47’s were pointed at his wife and his son's head as they sat side by side with tears in their eyes. Sensing that death was near, Tara said a silent prayer for herself and her son. Tigga was devastated as he looked on hopelessly.
“Wat is the meaning of dis? I will pay, wat is de price? Please spare my family...”
While Tigga watched his family getting slaughtered, one of the sexy twins pulled a small hunting knife from her holster on her thigh. Walking up behind Tigga, she slit his throat from ear to ear without hesitation. Watching the life leave his body through the screen, Patra and her small team of shooters walked out of the front door of Tigga’s bloody mansion, leaving the dead bodies in her wake as a sign of her dominance.
Now with Tigga dead, Patra had consolidated her power over Kingston. There were sure to be more attempts on her life, and even more contenders for her throne; but for now she was a lioness and Kingston was her pride. From this day forward, Patra would rule with an Iron fist…
CHAPTER 15
SILENCE OR DEATH
Listening to reggaeton with his feet kicked up on his desk, the Cuban crime boss whom everybody knew as Cuba; was watching his accountant crunch numbers when his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his phone ringing. Annoyed by the interruption, he answered the call. “Who the fuck is this?”
Unfazed by Cuba’s rude inquiry, Smoke spoke into the receiver with a hint of laughter in his voice.
“Damn wet back, you're rude as fuck dawg. Is that how you talk to everybody, or just me killa? ...”
Recognizing Trions younger cousins voice, Cuba lightened up a little bit. If Smoke was calling, it meant more guns, and more guns meant more money.”
“O… que Paso puto ... What do you have for me today?”
Ignoring Cuba’s little verbal jab, Smoke got straight to business.
“Listen dawg, we got three cases of M 1’s, four cases of AR’s, and two crates of hand grenades. Los said the ticket for you is fifteen grand, and we can drop them off tonight.”
“No... No... No... fuck that puto, I'll give you 12 grand and my people will meet you at the docks to pick them up. Homie you still owe me for shooting up my fucking restaurant last week. You know better than to bring violence to my place of business hombre. You can't just run around like a wild animal....”
Taking a second to allow the thought to set in, Smoke finally gave in.
“Okay dawg, you can get the tools for thirteen, but fuck that pussy ass nigga I wacked in your spot. That bitch owed the family money. Everybody pays their dues, either in cash or in blood; it don’t matter to me!”
Sitting in front of his projector screen, Carlos was relaxing in his recliner watching Shottas when Smoke called.
“What's up cuz?”
Skipping the small talk, Smoke got straight to the business.
“Listen cuz, I talked to Cuba. The business is official on that end, but I just got offline with our guy in uniform. We've got a problem.”
Anxious to get to the details, Carlos almost lost his patience.
“Spit it out cuz, what's bothering you?”
Getting the green light, Smoke gave him the business play by play.
“The word is that the D.E.A and the Feds are looking into a couple of our spots. A detective named Lawson kicked in fat Freddy’s front door this morning asking
“You have a beautiful home darling. It's too bad it's about to get bloody, tanks to your husband.”
With pleading eyes, Tara begged Patra to spare Zie.
“Please... Spare me son’s life. I don't know wat my husband has done, but Zie is only eight. Don't punish him for de sins of his father...”
Finally getting himself together, Tigga fumbled to answer the call. As the screen of the phone came to life, nothing could help prepare him for what he saw. Two AK47’s were pointed at his wife and his son's head as they sat side by side with tears in their eyes. Sensing that death was near, Tara said a silent prayer for herself and her son. Tigga was devastated as he looked on hopelessly.
“Wat is the meaning of dis? I will pay, wat is de price? Please spare my family...”
While Tigga watched his family getting slaughtered, one of the sexy twins pulled a small hunting knife from her holster on her thigh. Walking up behind Tigga, she slit his throat from ear to ear without hesitation. Watching the life leave his body through the screen, Patra and her small team of shooters walked out of the front door of Tigga’s bloody mansion, leaving the dead bodies in her wake as a sign of her dominance.
Now with Tigga dead, Patra had consolidated her power over Kingston. There were sure to be more attempts on her life, and even more contenders for her throne; but for now she was a lioness and Kingston was her pride. From this day forward, Patra would rule with an Iron fist…
CHAPTER 15
SILENCE OR DEATH
Listening to reggaeton with his feet kicked up on his desk, the Cuban crime boss whom everybody knew as Cuba; was watching his accountant crunch numbers when his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his phone ringing. Annoyed by the interruption, he answered the call. “Who the fuck is this?”
Unfazed by Cuba’s rude inquiry, Smoke spoke into the receiver with a hint of laughter in his voice.
“Damn wet back, you're rude as fuck dawg. Is that how you talk to everybody, or just me killa? ...”
Recognizing Trions younger cousins voice, Cuba lightened up a little bit. If Smoke was calling, it meant more guns, and more guns meant more money.”
“O… que Paso puto ... What do you have for me today?”
Ignoring Cuba’s little verbal jab, Smoke got straight to business.
“Listen dawg, we got three cases of M 1’s, four cases of AR’s, and two crates of hand grenades. Los said the ticket for you is fifteen grand, and we can drop them off tonight.”
“No... No... No... fuck that puto, I'll give you 12 grand and my people will meet you at the docks to pick them up. Homie you still owe me for shooting up my fucking restaurant last week. You know better than to bring violence to my place of business hombre. You can't just run around like a wild animal....”
Taking a second to allow the thought to set in, Smoke finally gave in.
“Okay dawg, you can get the tools for thirteen, but fuck that pussy ass nigga I wacked in your spot. That bitch owed the family money. Everybody pays their dues, either in cash or in blood; it don’t matter to me!”
Sitting in front of his projector screen, Carlos was relaxing in his recliner watching Shottas when Smoke called.
“What's up cuz?”
Skipping the small talk, Smoke got straight to the business.
“Listen cuz, I talked to Cuba. The business is official on that end, but I just got offline with our guy in uniform. We've got a problem.”
Anxious to get to the details, Carlos almost lost his patience.
“Spit it out cuz, what's bothering you?”
Getting the green light, Smoke gave him the business play by play.
“The word is that the D.E.A and the Feds are looking into a couple of our spots. A detective named Lawson kicked in fat Freddy’s front door this morning asking
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