The Family Business 4: a Family Business Novel
The Family Business four:
A Family Business Novel
Carl Weber with La Jill Hunt
www.urbanbooks.cyberspace
All copyrighted cloth inside is Attributor Protected.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Prologue
LC - 1
Junior - 2
London - iii
Cerise - 4
Chippy - 5
Larry - half-dozen
LC - 7
Vegas - 8
Larry - 9
Sasha - 10
Carmine - 11
LC - 12
Larry - 13
Sasha - xiv
Larry - 15
London - 16
Orlando - 17
Curtis - xviii
London - 19
Paris - 20
Larry - 21
Curtis - 22
Reddish - 23
London - 24
LC - 25
Larry - 26
Sasha - 27
Ruby - 28
London - 29
Curtis - 30
Vegas - 31
London - 32
Ruby - 33
Vegas - 34
Larry - 35
London - 36
Chippy - 37
LC - 38
Red - 39
Vegas - 40
London - 41
LC - 42
Donna - 43
LC - 44
London - 45
Sasha - 46
Orlando - 47
Ruby-red - 48
London - 49
LC - 50
London - 51
Sasha - 52
Curtis - 53
Reddish - 54
Larry - 55
London - 56
Sasha - 57
Larry - 58
Sasha - 59
Chippy - 60
Sasha - 61
Kenny - 62
LC - 63
Larry - 64
Orlando - 65
Ruby - 66
Kenny - 67
Orlando - 68
LC - 69
Crimson - lxx
LC - 71
Curtis - 72
Larry - 73
Chippy - Epilogue
Urban Books, LLC
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Farmingdale, NY 11735
The Family unit Business organization 4: A Family unit Business organisation Novel
Copyright © 2018 Carl Weber
Copyright © 2018 La Jill Hunt
The Family Concern 2012 Trademark Urban Books, LLC
All rights reserved. No part of this volume may be reproduced in any form or past any means without prior consent of the Publisher, except cursory quotes used in reviews.
ISBN: 978-1-6228-6766-0
This is a work of fiction. Whatsoever references or similarities to actual events, existent people, living or dead, or to existent locales are intended to give the novel a sense of reality. Any similarity in other names, characters, places, and incidents is entirely coincidental.
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Prologue
The glass doors of the quaint storefront situated in the Atlantic Final of the Long Island Runway Road read: NATE'S SHOE SHINE AND REPAIR. When the door opened, the contumely bell clanged loudly and three men of different ages stepped inside. The older of the three, who was more table salt than pepper, took a seat in the center of the 3 shoeshine chairs and fabricated himself comfortable, while his ii companions browsed effectually the store looking nervous.
"Can I help you?" a gentleman situated at the far terminate of the counter with his dorsum turned to the men chosen out. He was working on a pair of cowboy boots that had to be worth a thousand dollars or more.
"Yeah, I'thousand looking for onetime man Nate?" the older of the three men asked. Dissimilar the younger men, he was wearing a conform. He had military dog tags hanging around his cervix that looked like they'd been dipped in gilt.
"You lot must not exist from around hither, 'cause my uncle Nate passed away almost 10 years ago," the man replied, standing to work without turning around.
"Sorry to hear that. Nate was a good blood brother," the human said sincerely. "So, what'southward your name?"
The man never looked upward from his work. "My name'due south Joe, merely folks effectually here telephone call me Shoeshine. What can I do for you?"
"Get the fuck outta here! You're Shoeshine Joe. Man, you still the best shoeshine boy in town?" He laughed like they were onetime friends, lifting his shoe. "Human, how almost a polish?"
"First of all, I ain't nobody'southward boy," Joe snapped angrily, still without moving his head. "Secondly, I'm the owner, and so I don't shine nobody's shoes no more than. We got a kid that comes in at 4 for the blitz hour oversupply that tin can help yous with that." Joe stood upward and finally turned effectually with a slight frown on his confront. Then he recognized the man sitting before him. He took a stride back. "Shit, I thought you lot were dead."
"That's what I wanted people to recollect," the man in the chair answered, gesturing to his shoes. "Now, how about a smooth for old time's sake?"
"Sure, sure, no problem." Joe hurried from effectually the counter and pulled out a shine box. The man eased back in his chair. "What's it been—5, 10 years?"
The man ran his hand through his graying hair. "Closer to fifteen."
"Damn, has it been that long?" Joe shook his head. Observing the two younger men, he asked, "These your boys? They look only like you."
"Yeah, sir, these ii are the best parts of me, Ken and Brusque." He pointed at his two sons. "Boys, Joe hither is the all-time shoeshine human being on the East Coast. Dorsum in the twenty-four hour period, every time I'd come to Brooklyn I had to bring 3 pairs of shoes just for him to shine. He's that damn good."
"Thanks, merely that was a long fourth dimension ago. It's been a while since I did this for anyone other than myself."
"Man, shining shoes is like riding a bike: you just got to become back on it," the man said, and Joe nodded his agreement every bit he began to apply polish.
"So, Joe, it looks like the neighborhood is changing a lot. How'due south business concern?"
"Changing is an understatement, simply believe it or not, that'south not such a bad thing, because business organization is good. These yuppies that are moving in don't vesture two hundred–dollar sneakers like the onetime neighborhood folks. They wear expensive designer shoes and boots that need repair. Nobody wants to throw abroad a seven hundred–dollar pair of shoes, so for now business is better than ever."
The man glanced over at the ii younger versions of himself, who were at present posted at either side of the door; then he looked down at Joe.
"That's dandy. I'one thousand happy for you," he said sarcastically. "But I wasn't talking about the shoe business organisation. I was talking about the information business."
Joe froze, peering over his spectacles. Information technology had been years since anyone had even mentioned the figure he was now kneeling before. The human being was a killer, no if, ands, or buts virtually information technology. Word on the street was that he'd been locked upwards and died in his cell, but that couldn't have been true, considering he was sitting right there in the flesh, asking for information. Joe just hoped the information he wanted wasn't the kind that might get him killed.
"I don't really know much about nothing other than shoes." Joe shrugged every bit he tentatively continued to smoothen the man's shoes. "My uncle Nate was the one who knew everything about everyone. Not me."
"Is that and so?" It was obvious from the await he gave his sons that the human being thoug
ht Joe was lying through his teeth; withal, he remained at-home. He nodded to Brusque, the older of his sons. Reaching into his pocket, Short pulled out a stack of cash and placed information technology next to Joe's shoeshine box. It was more than money than Joe had seen in a while.
"I'm certain you can be just every bit helpful equally your uncle, don't you remember?" Curt spoke for the first fourth dimension.
Joe stared at the money, thinking of the pile of bills stacked on his kitchen table at home, along with the constant calls from the finance company nearly the past due note on his wife'due south automobile. It was tempting, but still, he didn't move.
"I'm sorry. I'yard not big on information." He went back to shining the homo'due south shoes.
"Okay, peradventure information is the wrong discussion. The truth is, I'thou looking to buy something. Maybe you can aid me with that." The man reached into his pocket and pulled out another stack of cash, placing it aslope the money Curt had put downward.
"Wha–what y'all trying to buy?" Joe asked nervously. He swallowed difficult as he gathered upwards the bills and placed the coin in his frock pockets. Glancing upwards at the 2 other men, he saw that they were amused by his sudden change of middle. Not that it mattered to him. He knew in that location had to be at least twenty or thirty thousand dollars in front of him, and information technology was a sum he just couldn't pass upwards.
"If I wanted to purchase a large corporeality of dope, where would I go to discover it?"
"You're joking, right?" It was Joe's turn to be amused. "If everyone knows where to detect dope, it would be you, wouldn't it? You know the cardinal player ameliorate than all of u—" He stopped abruptly when the man bopped him on the head just hard plenty to go his full attention.
"Motherfucker, don't worry about what I know. Does Verizon go to Dart when they demand new towers? Does Ford go to GM to help them build cars? Of grade not! So why the fuck would I go to LC and ask for help? I'thou trying to put his donkey outta business."
Joe raised his hands defensively, hoping to give himself a moment to collect his faculties. That was not the response he'd been expecting. He thought for a second and said, "Well, you can't get to the Mexicans or the Colombians now that Alejandro's dead."
"Why not?" Curtis asked.
"Rumor has is it LC'southward son Vegas is fucking—or used to fuck—Alejandro's widow, and she's supplying them with everything they need. Simply there is always Lee and his people. He's been hurting ever since him and LC fell out over that Sal Nuance fiasco."
"I never liked that Asian bounder, simply it'south worth a endeavour. The enemy of my enemy is supposed to be my friend, at least until you kill the bastard." The man laughed. "All right, so who else you got?"
"Well, in that location is a guy who'due south been looking to motion some product. He usually moves marijuana, only he's sitting on a shit load of dope, and I heard he wants to unload information technology inexpensive." Joe finished ane shoe and moved on to the other.
"Why is he sitting on it?"
"Nobody will buy information technology from him. Guy'due south got a price on his head, and everyone is afraid of pissing off the Duncans. He's got a lot of dope, but his supply isn't infinite. Where exercise you go once he dries up? Non to the Duncans, that's for sure."
The older man saturday back. He looked intrigued. "Sounds similar me and him demand to have a talk. What'south his name?"
"Vinnie. Vinnie Dash."
He lifted his caput. "This Vinnie any relation to Sal?"
"Yeah, he's Sal's son. He's the but Nuance left afterward the state of war a few years ago. Which LC won, I might add."
"Is that right? So, where practice I find this Vinnie Dash?" the man asked.
"Yous don't. Dude'south running his concern out of Jamaica. You gotta go far touch with his man Jamaica John in Co-op City if you want him. He runs a vape shop," Joe said matter-of-factly, getting over his initial discomfort now that the data was flowing.
"Okay. Thanks, Joe. For someone who doesn't know much data, y'all've been extremely helpful. Hasn't he, boys?"
The two younger men smiled and nodded.
"Glad I could be of service. Good doin' concern with you lot."
"Pleasure was ours," the man replied as Joe finished off his smooth. "I'm sorry we won't be able to do business in the future."
"Huh?" Joe was confused until he looked up and saw the gun pointed right at his head. Earlier be could react, a silenced shot entered his forehead and he fell to the flooring.
"Damn, why'd you shoot him?" the younger of his two sons shouted. The older son didn't look happy, but he kept repose as he picked up the coin that had spilled out of Joe's apron.
"I wasn't taking a take a chance of someone paying his donkey double what we gave him to tell them what we wanted. At present, assist your brother selection upwardly the coin and permit'south go. We got business to handle."
LC
1
Grateful. That was the only give-and-take that came to listen as I looked over the balcony of my bedroom into the sprawling backyard of our family unit compound. The sunday was bright in the heaven, but a slight breeze dissipated nigh of the morning heat. Information technology was going to be a scorcher, that was for sure—not that the heat bothered me. I was but glad to exist alive. It was a little less than 6 months since I'd been shot and left for dead, then no one appreciated a beautiful day and a little excess estrus more than than I did.
For a few minutes, I watched my grandson Nevada practicing his martial arts stances with his teacher, Government minister Farah. At one betoken, he stumbled only a bit, but to his credit, he never lost his composure. I could see he was serious almost perfecting the art. He would non quit until he got it right, similar a true Duncan.
"Breakfast is ready."
I turned to encounter my wife Chippy easing up beside me. She was wearing a multicolored caftan and a pair of simple gold sandals. I had been then caught upwardly in watching Nevada that I hadn't even heard her sneak up behind me.
"What's got yous out hither grinning like that?" She slipped her arm effectually my waist.
"Thinking well-nigh you." I reached over, pulled her close, and kissed her softly.
"Liar." She laughed and shook her head.
"And Nevada," I added, sliding my easily downwardly to cuddle her butt.
"Mm-hmmm." She flirted, squeezing me back. "What were yous thinking pertaining to me?"
I gave her a seductive look and said, "Most last night."
"Aye." She grinned. "Last night was pretty darn amazing and definitely worth smiling about."
"You're so right." I kissed her neck. Even through the flowing material she wore, I could brand out the soft curves of Chippy's body, and I became angry. Even at our age, she all the same had that effect on me. "Nosotros can always go within and accept an amazing forenoon likewise."
"LC, you better stop it. Breakfast is ready," she said, trying to become away from me. Her mitt rested on my chest. "Also, the kids will hear u.s.."
I frowned. "You know, I'm getting sick of these kids. They been erect-blocking me for almost forty years."
"I know," she said sympathetically. "Look, information technology'south not just the kids. I'thou worried virtually you. I don't wanna push our luck. Y'all are still recovering."
I looked into her optics and then back down to her hand. Her finger covered the exact spot where the bullet had entered my torso and well-nigh took my life a few months ago. Chippy had always been brave, just I knew the thought of losing me had scared her. I wanted her to experience secure and know that everything was going to be okay. She was my wife, and I always wanted her to experience protected.
"I'm fine, Chippy. We're fine," I assured her.
"I know you are fine, LC, merely permit's simply have today to rest upward."
"I wore you out, huh?" I winked.
"Boy, y'all already know I did that to you. The way you were snoring last nighttime, I'm surprised yous even made information technology out of bed this morning," she said with a satisfied smirk.
We both laughed and once again, I was grateful. I turned my attention back to Nevada.
"You lot run into him? He's a natural."
; "I wouldn't say all that. He's been training with his mother since he was small. Merely he is good," Chippy said.
"I desire him to be fifty-fifty ameliorate. He needs to learn the finer things in life, and you're going to have to bear witness him," I told her.
"Is that so?" I didn't look at her, merely I was sure she was giving me the side-eye.
"Yes. He's our future, love. 1 24-hour interval, all of this will be his, and he has to learn not simply how to run information technology, but to appreciate it every bit well." I walked over and placed my hands on the railing as I watched my grandson take down his instructor. The surprise on his instructor's face was mixed with embarrassment.
Chippy walked upwards abreast me. "Wow, you've certainly had a alter of middle." There was a hint of contempt in her vox.
"What is that supposed to hateful?" I turned to her with a frown.
"A calendar month ago you weren't even sure he was Vegas'south son. Y'all went on and on about how he might not be a Duncan. Now yous're ready to turn the reins of the entire business over to him."
"A month ago I didn't know what I know now," I said confidently.
"And what is that?"
"He's definitely a Duncan," I replied, hoping that would put an end to it. Of form, with Chippy, that was never the case.
"How practice you lot know for certain?" she pressed. "Because when I told you he was our grandson, you didn't want to hear it. What'due south changed your mind of a sudden?"
"I but know," I said defiantly. This was not a word I wanted to keep, considering it could go totally incorrect.
"Lavernious Duncan, don't play games with me. I know you, call up? Information technology'due south bad enough you won't tell me who the hell shot yous, simply you are going to tell me why you changed your mind, or else what happened last night is not going to happen again for a long time."
I raised my easily defensively to stop her tirade. "Okay, okay." Chippy was right. She did know me well. I shrugged and admitted, "I had Orlando swab him and do a Deoxyribonucleic acid exam a calendar week ago. He told me the results last night. He'south a Duncan, Charlotte."
She looked at me and shook her head. "I should have known. I hope Orlando was discreet, because you know if Vegas finds out, he's going to lose his mind."
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