Chapter 6 Not Asking Permission
King POV
The moment she told me her name, I should have walked away.
Not because she did anything wrong. Because Bellamy is the kind of last name that comes with problems.
One thing my father made clear: don’t piss off Franklin Bellamy.
He said it enough growing up that I never forgot it.
My phone rings in my pocket.
“Yo,” I say.
“I’m outside,” Saint says.
“I’m coming down now.”
I hang up as the elevator continues its descent.
By the time the doors open, Saint is already waiting outside.
“Where to?” he asks.
“Home, then the club.”
He doesn’t say anything, just pulls off.
That’s Saint. If I need him to know more, I’ll tell him.
I pull out my phone and dial Sincere.
“I need a deep dive,” I say when he answers.
“Name?”
“Daniel. Not sure if his last name is Bellamy or if he kept his own. Also Milan Bellamy. You might find him through her.”
There’s a pause.
“Bellamy? The woman from yesterday is a Bellamy?”
“Yeah.”
“King.”
“I know. Just do the dive. I will deal with the rest later.”
Sincere lets out a breath on the other end.
“Send me anything else you got.”
“That’s it for now.”
“Heard.”
I hang up.
“She under your skin,” Saint says, not even looking at me.
He too observant for his own good.
“I don’t even know what it is,” I say.
And I don’t. I barely know her. I just know I keep thinking about the way she looked at me when I handed her both keys.
“I know how you can get, King. Just let her move at her own pace. That dude fucked her up.”
“I know. Being a Bellamy ain’t help, I’m sure.”
Saint glances at me.
“Probably made it worse.”
I look out the window and let that sit.
When we get to our family house in New Rochelle, I’m already annoyed.
This conversation isn’t going to go well.
Saint parks.
“He’s not going to be happy.”
“Too late. Now I just need a solution.”
I’m not going in there to ask if I should help her. I already did.
I climb out of the car, and Saint follows.
When we step into the house, our mother calls from the kitchen.
“Is that my boys?”
“Just Saint and I, Ma,” I call back as we walk toward her voice.
She puts the dish she’s washing down, dries her hands, then pulls each of us into a hug.
“You two never come to visit.”
“You saw us last week,” Saint says.
“That is not the point.”
I laugh.
She pulls back and studies my face.
“You’re here for your father, aren’t you?”
“Yeah. Something came up, and I need to know what I should do.”
“Well, come on. He’s in the study with your uncle.”
She starts walking toward my father’s study.
Saint follows beside me while I already run through what my father is going to say.
When we walk in, my father looks up from his desk.
“Ah, my firstborn and my third. What do I owe this visit?”
“Uncle G. Dad, wassup?”
“Wassup, nephews. Everything good?” Uncle Gregory asks.
I take a seat and pour myself a drink.
My mother stays in the room.
“Oh, everything isn’t good,” my father says. “Talk to me, King.”
I take a drink.
“I have an issue with Franklin Bellamy.”
My mother gasps.
My father sighs.
Uncle G leans forward.
“What kind of issue, son?” my father asks.
“I helped his daughter leave her abusive husband, and I’m hiding her and their kids.”
Nobody says anything for a second.
My mother’s eyes go wide, and tears fill them.
“She has kids with him?” she asks.
“She has twins. She came into my shop yesterday, and then Yana brought her in again today.”
“Wait.” Uncle Gregory looks at me. “Milan is a Bellamy?”
“Yes.”
“You know her, Greg?” my father asks.
“Yes. Her and Yana have been friends since they were in kindergarten. I just never knew she was a Bellamy.”
That throws me off.
“You never knew her last name?”
“I knew her as Milan. Yana never had a reason to sit me down and explain who her friend’s father was.”
“Fair.”
My father rubs his jaw.
“This isn’t good, King. You know Franklin is very unforgiving.”
“He was allowing his daughter to be abused. I’m unforgiving too.”
“Son.”
My father’s tone sharpens.
“Once Franklin becomes an enemy, there’s no turning back. This isn’t going to be small.”
“I know.”
“Are you sure about this? About her?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
He watches me for a second, then nods.
“Okay.”
He leans back.
“When it comes out that we are involved, I need you to be prepared. All of our legitimate and illegal businesses are going to be under fire.”
“I know.”
Shops. Garages. The club. Anything with our name attached to it becomes something Franklin can mess with.
“So what’s your move?” my father asks.
“Well, for now nobody knows I was involved except the people in this room, Yana, and Louis. Also nobody knows where she is except Saint, Yana, and myself. I tossed her phone and cut her card.”
My father nods once.
“This won’t blow over quickly. If her husband knows she ran and he saw her with Yana, that is the first place he will go.”
“Yana can come stay at my place,” Uncle Gregory says.
“She would probably prefer to stay with Milan.”
“I’ll ask her.”
My mother has been quiet for a minute.
Then she looks at me.
“So why her, King?”
I look down at the drink in my hand.
I know what she’s asking. Why did this one make me step in?
“When she came in the shop, she flinched when I reached for her hand. Then I saw cuff marks around her wrists.”
My mother’s face changes.
I run my hand down my face.
“And I just saw Riley.”
I look down for a second.
“I asked how she got the marks and she panicked.”
Nobody says anything.
“Then Yana brought her to the shop today. She had a black eye and a busted lip and she was holding her side while holding two kids.”
I can still see Avi hanging off her while she tried not to show how bad her ribs hurt.
“I couldn’t say no.”
My mother wipes under her eye.
“I understand, honey.”
Her voice is softer now.
“I just hope her story turns out differently.”
Nobody says Riley’s name again. We don’t have to.
“Milan Bellamy is a beautiful, smart young woman, and she had a bright future ahead of her,” my mother says.
I look at her.
“You knew her too?”
“I knew of her. Gregory talked about Yana’s little friend all the time when they were growing up.”
Uncle Gregory smiles faintly.
“She was always at the house.”
My mother looks at me.
“I always thought you two would cross paths, but her father probably kept her where he wanted her.”
I shake my head.
“Ma, don’t start.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You was about to.”
Saint laughs under his breath.
My mother rolls her eyes.
“So Franklin Bellamy isn’t all legit?” Saint asks.
My father snorts.
“Franklin Bellamy is as crooked as they come. The fact that he has money makes it worse. His pockets run deep in New York.”
Saint leans back.
“Meaning?”
“Meaning he doesn’t need to touch you directly to make your life difficult.”
I finish the rest of my drink.
“So we tighten everything.”
My father looks at me.
“We tighten everything.”
That’s what I came here for.
I stand.
“Good.”
My father shakes his head.
“You came here with your mind already made up.”
“Yeah.”
“I figured.”
I didn’t need permission. I needed everybody ready before Franklin figured out where Milan disappeared to.
