The sound of sirens filled the air, and as Ahmeek turned around, he saw a Range Rover pull up behind his car. The window rolled down, and Ethic’s face appeared. Their eye contact was brief, but in the stare down, Ahmeek sensed acceptance. Ahmeek had gotten there first. He had put in work on behalf of Morgan. Ethic’s presence wasn’t needed. Ethic gave a subtle nod as if he were drawing conclusions in his mind, and then the window rose as the Range Rover disappeared down the block.

Whatever Ethic had come to do had already been done, but Beans was only the middleman to the problem. Ahmeek had to go to the source. Messiah had crossed a line, and he had to come to terms with the fact that a man he considered a brother wanted him dead.

Knock-knock.

Aria turned toward the door of her apartment, and her heart stalled. She knew who was knocking, and she dreaded dealing with him. She walked over and pulled the door open to find Isa standing in front of her.

He was so tall that her neck stretched all the way back just to look at him.

“You know niggas died behind you, right?” he asked.

She nodded. He crossed the threshold, picking her up by the pits of her arms so that she was eye level with him as his lips covered hers.

“Who I got to see about this face?” he asked.

“No one,” she answered as he set her on the island in her kitchen. She could barely look at him. “My brother snatched me to prove he could, Isa. He doesn’t think you will keep me safe.”

“You know better than that,” Isa stated.

Aria was silent, and she looked off only for Isa to cup her face and pull her gaze back to him.

“I’m leaving town, Isa.” She slid her engagement ring off her finger, and Isa took a step back.

“Man, put that shit back on your hand before I get upset,” he stated.

“I can’t, Isa.” Her brow furrowed, and her pretty eyes glistened as she looked at him. “He’s my family. He’s all I’ve got. If I stay here, he’ll cut me off. He’s always been there for me.”

Her words might as well had been bullets the way they went right through him. He staggered a bit. “And you’re choosing him over me?” Isa asked.

Her silence cut him even more. The fact that she seemed so sure was alcohol over the wound.

“Fuck it, then,” Isa spat. “Pussy was trash anyway.”

Aria’s neck snaked so far back it felt like it would break. She hopped down off the island and marched toward the door, opening it for him. “Then you shouldn’t have a problem letting go. Since you in your feelings, get the fuck out,” Aria said.