Page 137 of Kentrell

In his mind, he was untouchable.

His parents raised him like that—tucked tight behind gated communities and good schools. Shoved into a box so neat he thought only he held the key to it.

He believed his money bought loyalty.

What he didn’t know was?—

Powerweighed more than silver and gold.

And I could flip his whole world upside down with a single move.

All I had to do now was shift my course—redirect the target—and aim it dead at him.

And the coldest part?

He didn’t even realize he helped me do it.

“Look, Kentrell,” Malcolm said after a few seconds passed. “My announcement to run is coming up, and I want this handled before then. I can’t move forward with my campaign unless I know…”

He didn’t finish.

My jaw ticked.

It made me think back to when he first reached out.

He was so sure Zoe would be a problem. A liability. A threat to his future.

But the more time I spent with her, the less sense that shit made.

Their paths barely crossed.

Not at her job. Not in her home.

Hell, she didn’t even vent about him. There was no contact. No beef.

If she’d chosen a different firm, I doubt she’d even know he existed.

“Can you at least accept the wire I sent this time?” Malcolm spoke again. “The last two you returned, and it’s starting to feel like you’re biting the hand that feeds you.”

“Nigga, you—” I stopped myself mid-snap.

This wasn’t my space.

This wasZoe’shouse.

And the last thing I needed was for her—or her friends downstairs—to overhear me tweaking.

“Nah,” I said instead, calm but cold. “You can keep that shit.”

“Oh?” he perked up, smug. “So it’s on the house?”

“Yeah,” I said slowly, voice tight. “It’s onna house.”

Then I ended the call and immediately dialed another.

“Yo!” Oshon picked up on the first ring. “Hold up.”

I could hear splashing and squeals in the background.

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