2. Dr. Royale “Ro” London

"Nigga, you trying to get us killed over a bitch." My best friend, Meechie, shook his head as we slid into the back of the black SUV.

I couldn't do anything but laugh as thoughts of the thick, chocolate beauty flashed in my mind. I could pretend I didn't know she was Kashus's fiancée, but I knew. Meechie had given me the rundown on everyone when we arrived. I didn't mind playing with fire by approaching her. She was beautiful. The most beautiful woman I'd seen in a long time, and she needed some company because her supposed fiancé was in the bathroom fucking two loose-looking chicken head hos, whose surgeries I'd probably done.

"That nigga ain't the only nigga with a gun." I waved him off. Meechie knew nobody could stop me from doing what I wanted. I didn't get scared easily.

"Oh, so Mr. Straight and Narrow Doctor gon' come up out the scrubs and shoot a nigga now? OK," Meechie joked, making me burst into laughter.

"Doctor or not, you know I'm always carrying," I replied.

It was the truth. Everyone around me liked to joke about my decision to leave the family business and become a doctor. Dedicating my entire life to the cartel, murdering, and destroying families wasn't my thing. I wanted something different out of life, so I set out to get it. That didn't mean I was no pussy ass nigga. I was born to be a killer, heir to the London Cartel. I stayed with my Glock just in case a nigga thought he could try me.

"Don't I know it, nigga? You better hope yo' lil stunt didn't ruin my business dealings with that nigga Kashus. I ain't trying to hear yo' pops mouth."

"I don't care either way." The London Cartel was my father Matthew's pride and joy. Even from behind bars, he still controlled the daily business dealings. Meechie was the head of the organization, but my father still called most of the shots. It was a job that was supposed to be mine, but I'd retired before it started. After my father was sent to federal prison and a rival crime family killed my little brother, I quit. I took college seriously and became a plastic surgeon. It was a choice my father still hated me for. To him, I was a disgrace to his legacy.

The only reason why I wasn't completely exiled from the cartel was because of Meechie. He was my best friend. We'd grown up together. His father was my father's right-hand man. Everything we'd been through in life, we'd been through it together. From learning to shoot our first gun to getting our first pieces of pussy. It was honorable that Meechie hadn't turned his back on me because of my decision not to be a gangster. Besides, I'd been the one to vouch for him and turn my position as head of the cartel over to him. It was my first and last decision as head of the London cartel. Whenever he needed me, I was there, and vice versa.

Hence, why I was even here tonight. I didn't go out much. My life was filled with work, but Meechie needed a wingman to this party to vet a new business associate for the cartel. I was the only person he trusted to have his back and feel the vibes. So, here I was, thousands of miles away from home, attending a birthday party for a nigga I had only heard of.

"Kashus will do the deal. He stupid, but he ain't that stupid," I commented as I took a swig from the liquor bottle I'd taken from the chocolate beauty. Just that fast, my mind was back on her. There was something about her sitting there all alone that had beckoned me in like a magnet. I wanted more time with her, but I knew it was best to leave well enough alone before a bunch of bullshit popped off.

"I hope so, nigga. You know niggas get sensitive about they bitches, and you practically had his sucking your dick in the club."

Again, images of her opening her beautiful mouth and sticking out her tongue for me flooded my brain. There was no doubt in my mind that she could suck a mean ass dick.

"You over there thinking about her now, ain't you?" Meechie was staring at me with a big stupid grin on his face.

"She was thirsty, and I was just helping her fine ass out." I shrugged.

"Yeah, okay. Just make sure you give me a two-week notice next time you decide to try and start a war behind some pussy." Meechie laughed as our car pulled into the landing strip where our private plane awaited.

"Noted." I took one final swig of the liquor before exiting the car and heading toward the plane. I had no intention of seeing the chocolate beauty again. Fine as she was, we lived in two different states, and she was someone else's fiancée. I might go after her if she ever crossed my path again. A woman that beautiful deserved to be with a man who wouldn't leave her alone to go fuck off. Taking in my surroundings, I walked swiftly to the plane. I had already planned to get a few hours of sleep. As I rounded the corner, the sight of naked asses shaking greeted me. I whipped my hand across my face and shook my head. I'd forgotten how we'd flown here.

"Let's get this motherfucker cracking!" Meechie shouted as he pushed past me. Meechie was always with the shenanigans. On the way here, he insisted that we bring strippers aboard. It was the way he always traveled. Shaking my head, I watched as the strippers stormed him. Meechie wasted no time throwing dollars and grabbing a hand full of ass.

"This nigga," I mumbled under my breath as a short, light-skinned woman bent over in front of me. She was beautiful, but her doctor had done a horrible job with her Brazilian butt lift. Pulling out my business card, I stuffed it in her pink G String.

"I can fix that for you," I whispered, gently pushing past her. I could hear her scoff from behind me as Meechie burst into laughter.

"You wild for that, my boy. Briana got your ass pussy whipped."

I shrugged at the mention of the exotic dancer I'd been seeing for a few months as I headed to the back of the airplane. This had nothing to do with Briana, though she made every dancer here look mediocre. We weren't together, though. Briana and I had weekly dick appointments and a few occasional dates, but nothing major. I didn't feel like entertaining because I was tired. Having my own plastic surgery business meant a lot of long nights and early mornings.

Years ago, I would have been right there with Meechie fucking off, enjoying being on top of the world, but working a regular nine-to-five had humbled me. I wasn't that flashy nigga anymore. I was chill. It was a stark contrast, but it was the price I'd paid for making a legitimate living. Sinking in the recliner, I tuned Meechie and the strip show in front of me out. Nobody was going to get in the way of my sleep. I had a busy day with pre-operation appointments ahead of me tomorrow. I reclined the seat as far as it could go and forced my eyes shut. As soon as my eyes closed, I could see her. The chocolate beauty with the beautiful lips. I didn't know why she was on my mind so heavily, but I welcomed the visuals of her as sleep found me.