Page 7 of Kentrell

My smile dropped.

“The fuck you just say?” My voice stayed low, but that heat was rising.

“I dunno,” she said, casual, like it wasn’t shit. “He said he was tryna reach you. I ain’t tell him much—I don’t even know how he got my number or figured we know each other.”

I turned to look at her, jaw clenching.

“Whatchu mean you don’t know?” My tone cut sharp. “If somebody calledyoulookin’ forme, that mean they did some digging. You ain’t ask what the fuck he wanted?”

“Nigga, I’m not your secretary,” she snapped, but the playfulness was gone now. She felt that shift.

“Whatchu think.” Star tilted her head, that sly ass grin playing on her lips like this was just another game. My nostrils flared, jaw twitching. This nigga Malcolm was already fucking up. Reaching out toher? That was reckless. Damn near disrespectful.

I’m a hitman. I move like a shadow. No face, no case. Now this dumbass wanna dig through my life like I’m soft?

“Shit, I played it off like he had the wrong number,” she added, and I nodded slow. Hit the locks just as valet approached. “You know I know how to move.”

“Man, I ain’t worried about that,” I told her—and I wasn’t. I handled shit with precision. Malcolm wasn’t the first nigga to get bold, and he damn sure wouldn’t be the last. But he’d learn not to test the wrong one.

“Kentrell, wussup, nigga!” JD came up grinning, hand out. I passed him the keys with a nod.

“Star, what up, mama.” He hugged her from the side and kissed her cheek.

“Where yo coat at?”

“At home, JD—don’t start with me.” She laughed, already stepping out like she was on a damn runway. “I’m tryna be seen.” She twirled, her leopard catsuit hugging every inch of her body, ass bouncing just enough to get attention.

JD damn near started drooling. “Yeah, you see it!” Star grinned, clapping her cheeks together like she was clocked in at the strip club. She ain’t give a fuck who was watching.

I cut my eyes left and spotted Oshon walking up. He dapped me up, then moved straight behind her. Smooth. Pulled the back of her suit tight until her ass was pressed right into him.

“Why yo nipples out?” he smirked, pinching them through the fabric like he owned her. I watched Star melt right there, giggling and chewing her lip.

“You know that’s how bitches get fucked,” he growled low in her ear.

She blushed. Nodded.

“Where you park?” she whispered.

I shook my head, smirking to myself. Star could barely take the dick I gave her and already she was lining up the next fix.

It is what it is.

“Man, yo ass ain’t ready,” Oshon sucked his teeth, his arms wrapping tighter around Star’s waist.

Star giggled, leaning into his chest like it was second nature. “Oshon, now you know me.” She turned her head just enough to lock eyes with him. “Ain’t no hoe in me—anything I say, I stand on that shit.”

“A’ight—yo tough ass,” he tossed back with a grin, walking her toward the entrance like she wasn’t still dripping from the fuck I gave her. I didn’t say shit. Let her play. I moved beside them, nodding at a few folks as we walked into the building and stepped inside the empty elevator.

I hit the button for the second floor. I already knew Kensei would be down there, probably tightening up his display before everything kicked off upstairs. I wanted to see the setup firsthand before all the rooftop noise drowned it out.

When the elevator doors slid open, we stepped into a cleaner, quieter part of the space. The second floor had just enough buzz to feel alive but calm enough to breathe in.

Oshon and Star were still locked into their little flirt fest, so I let them drift while I moved toward the back, scanning the racks. Kensei and his team had laid the shit out. I clocked a couple pieces I’d want him to pull for me. I wasn’t in a rush—I was just soaking it in, proud of my lil brother for stepping his shit up.

Then I felt it.

That presence.

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