than loyalty and respect. Just as he thought of the mob, he looked at Meko and that’s when he said it.
“Tomorrow when that pack come bro… it’ll be the birth of us; The Black Corleones. We may not be Italian mob niggas but we will be legendary in these streets,” Samir told Meko.
“The Black Corleones?” Meko responded, confused.
“Yea h my nigga, The Black Corleones. The name itself commands loyalty and respect and that’s exactly what we’re about. Nothing is going to be more important than respect, loyalty and this family. Not money, not bitches, not this game. This is who we are and if a nigga test this family they will find out what this name really means.”
“Damn, I’m fucking with it bro. That shit is dope for real and you already know I’m the fucking enforcer, so if a nigga even think about crossing this family, I’ll make sure that nigga lay down for the long haul. You niggas is the only family I got and I don’t mind bodying niggas behind anyone of y’all.”
“I know and that’s why I love you bro.”
Just like that in Samir’s Chevy, riding down Washington Ave on their way to Washington park to meet up with the rest of their crew, Meko and Samir solidified their brotherly bond and with that confirmation, The Black Corleones were born.
Chapter Four
The next morning, t he sun snuck its way through Samir’s windows like a thief in the night. He opened his eyes when he heard his two-way going off with a menacing headache. He looked around his room not realizing he was home and what’s even worse is he didn’t know how he got there. The last thing he remembered was sitting on the hood of his Chevy on 76 th and Stoney Island at White Castle, watching everybody stunt. He and his crew always hit up the unofficial block party of 76 th and Stoney. Every dope boy, jack boy, hood nigga, square nigga, and mover and shaker hung out on Stoney. Every hood rat, bust down and all the pretty girls hung out there also, trying to get chose. It was a rite of passage for every Chicago kid in the hood. Even more puzzling was the girl lying in his bed next to him. He couldn’t remember her name or how she got with him in the first place.
“Fuck , I gotta stop drinking,” Samir said to himself. “Say, shawty wake up. I gotta take you home before my mother wake up,” Samir nudged his evening companion just as he checked his two-way.
Samir, this is Tim. You and two of your boys need to meet me in Atgeld Gardens at 1pm. You show up one second late and you can kiss this opportunity good bye.
Samir read the message from his father’s right hand man and glanced over at his clock , which read 12:07 pm. He jumped up and quickly hopped in the shower. He forwarded the message to Cesar and Meko. Yo, you niggaz need to meet me here asap. Samir sent as an added message to ensure they would be there. He knew Tim meant business and this was all a part of his father’s test. He wanted to test Samir sense of urgency and the urgency of those closest to him.
To Carlyle, the people that showed up to his trap spot with Samir would show him his judge of character. Samir understood that and he was determined to pass every one of his father’s tests. Carlyle knew Samir was determined to make money, but being in the game was more than just making money. There was a strategy like a game of chess and any wrong move would prove beneficial to your opponent and cost you the game all together.
After his shower , he got dressed in a simple white tee, Air Force One’s, a pair of Giorgio Armani Jeans and his favorite New York Yankees fitted cap. The young lady that Samir fucked the night before was still lying in his bed as if he never told her to get up in the first place. That infuriated him. It was already 12:30 by the time he finished dressing and this bitch was still parlaying.
“Say , shorty… get the fuck up and