Manhattan

by C.N. Phillips

Genres: Christian Suspense

Synopsis

The gritty tales of New York’s five families returns for its fifth installment.

Heavy is the head that wears the crown, and Caesar King feels weighted to the ground. The Five Families are in complete disarray, and Caesar realizes too late that stepping down was the wrong thing to do. It’s up to him to make the puzzle whole again. But when another war comes to their doorsteps and a past mistake comes back for blood, death rips through the boroughs like a tornado. In the end, there might not be any pieces left to put back together.

Release date: February 20, 2024

Publisher: Urban Books

Print pages: 288

Sample

Manhattan, 1978

“One day you’re going to wake up and everything you thought you knew will be different.”

Eighteen-year-old Caesar King heard the sound of his father’s voice replaying over and over inside his head. He’d interpreted the words many different ways, but never did he think he would wake up one day and end up on the wrong side of a holding cell. From where he sat on the wall, Caesar looked past the bars and clenched his jaw at the officers walking by. Some stopped to taunt him by smiling triumphantly while others sneered his way. See, Caesar wasn’t a small catch. He was a big fish. Him being in their clutches made them feel powerful, and they let it show. There was one officer who walked by the cell, however, and looked like he saw a ghost when he spotted Caesar sitting there. He looked around quickly, like someone was there watching his every move, and then was gone. Caesar didn’t think too much of it. He was trying to figure out what he was going to tell his dad.

The cell had five other men who took up space on the other side of it. They were having their own conversation, but every so often one of them would glance over toward where he was sitting. Caesar paid them no mind because, as far as he was concerned, he was there alone. As he sat, he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, thinking about what transpired that evening. His eyes went to his boots and focused on the drying blood stains on them.

“You’re over here lookin’ like you lost ya puppy dog. It must be ya first time here,” a voice said.

It belonged to a heavyset black man who took a seat next to Caesar. The others remained engrossed in their own conversation, ignoring the two of them. Glancing down at the blood on Caesar’s shoes, the man pointed at them.

“That why you in here?” he asked. When Caesar ignored him, his voice got louder. “I said, is that why you’re in here?”

“What’s it to you?”

“Because I want to know, that’s why. No need to be hostile. Let me school you on some manners. I’m Jontae. Now it’s your turn. Who are you?”

“I’m a man who’s in a jail cell,” Caesar responded blandly.

“Man? Ha! You don’t look like nothin’ but a boy to me. No older than seventeen!” Jontae noted and caused Caesar to groan.

“Eighteen,” Caesar corrected him.

“Same difference.”

“You obviously came over here for a reason besides getting on my fucking nerves. What do you want?”

“Here you go with this hostile shit again. But to answer your question, I don’t want nothin’. I guess I’m just tired of seein’ you young cats throw ya lives away behind stupid shit.”

“And I guess it’s okay for older people like you to do it then.”

“I didn’t say all that. It’s stupid as hell for me to be here too. And I bet you I wouldn’t be if I didn’t hit that motherfuckin’ bottle tonight. Asshole caught me sleepin’ with his girl and pulled a knife on me. And everybody knows you don’t bring a knife to a gunfight. I shot that motherfucka where he stood! I ain’t kill him though. I should have, because now I’m here since he lived to tell the tale.” Jontae shook his head. “Now I’ve told you my story. What’s yours, huh? Let me guess. Based on the blood on your shoes, somebody came at you wrong, and you had to teach them a lesson. What did you do, beat him up bad?”

“I killed him,” Caesar answered flatly.

Jontae looked quickly around to see if anyone was paying attention. When he was sure nobody had heard what Caesar said, he turned his attention back to him and spoke in a low tone. “Are you crazy? You can’t be sayin’ shit like that out loud in here! Not if you want to be innocent until proven guilty.”

“Now do you really think I would tell a motherfucka I don’t know and just met if I really killed somebody? Stop talking to me.” Caesar’s voice was rough and serious. He just wanted the man to stop talking to him and to leave him to his thoughts. He wasn’t there to make friends. He was waiting.

“That’s the last time I let you be disrespectful. Now I done tried to be nice to your stupid young ass. But who the fuck do you think you’re talkin’ to?” Jontae stood to his feet and puffed his chest out.

Suddenly the cell got quiet, and the men on the other side looked over at them. One who had a scruffy and dirty beard tried to get Jontae’s attention by shaking his head quickly, but Jontae’s fiery eyes were too busy glaring at Caesar.

“I’m talking to you,” Caesar told him.

“You must think I’m some sucker off the street. Well, I got a news flash for you, kid. I’m not one of them. Apologize.”

“Apologize?” Caesar was truly amused. He glanced over at the men tuned in intently to the scene at hand and pointed to them. “You know the reason why those men over there haven’t bothered me one time? It’s because they know who I am.”

“And who is that exactly?”

“Somebody whose bad side you really don’t want to be on.”

“Ay . . . ay! Man. Leave him alone. You really don’t know who that is?” the man with the scruffy beard asked Jontae. “That’s Caesar King, man!”

At the mention of his name, Jontae’s demeanor instantly changed. His chest went back down, and he actually took a step away, almost in fear. It seemed as though Caesar’s name spoke for itself. Jontae put his hands up as if to usher in an apology.

“My bad. I . . . I didn’t know.”

Caesar grunted in response, and Jontae hurried back to the other side of the cell, leaving Caesar to his thoughts. Some might have seen that exchange and wondered how a grown, full-sized man was frightened by a teenager. The answer was simple. Caesar was the son and underboss of Cassius King, New York’s biggest drug kingpin, which meant he was the closest thing to untouchable. Not just because he was protected, but because he was no stranger to murder. He and the grim reaper spoke the same language fluently, and Caesar wasn’t afraid to get rid of anything that stood in his way.

Caesar was sure that, by then, Cassius knew of his situation and most likely wasn’t too enthralled about it. Mainly because a lot of people questioned his judgment to put someone so young in charge of anything business related, but Cassius trusted his son. And for a long time, Caesar had become a master of flying under the radar. However, that evening he’d been in the right place at the wrong time. Caesar thought he’d done a good job at keeping his grass cut low, but somehow a snake still managed to slither into his yard and make a home. The name of said snake was Gerald, a young guy from the Lower East Side. Not quite as young as Caesar, but not too much older.

Gerald was hungry, and Caesar could tell by the naps in his hair and the ratty clothes he wore that he was ready to make some money. So Caesar gave him an opportunity to make some with one of the crews he oversaw. Gerald proved his worth right away, getting off the little bit of cocaine provided to him so fast that Caesar felt it was time to up his supply. That night, the two men were meeting so Caesar could front him two kilos of New York’s finest. What Caesar didn’t know was that Gerald was working with the cops, who were working with the Feds the whole time. Apparently he was hungrier than Caesar thought. What was supposed to be a simple drop had turned into Caesar getting busted. It was bad, really bad. But the only thing working in his favor was that Caesar didn’t have any of the drugs on him. That wasn’t how he conducted business, but the cops assumed he was walking around dirty and jumped the gun. They ran down on him but not before Caesar was able to get a few kicks to Gerald’s skull.

Caesar was angry at the fact that he had sullied what had been, until then, a foolproof operation. But he was even more upset at the thought of letting his old man down. He tried not to think about what Cassius would have to say to him if he ever got out of the hole. But Caesar could guess that his rank would be snatched. It was his fault that Gerald had even gotten into the fold. Caesar’s problem was that, although he dabbled in illegal things, he still wanted to feed the streets and present opportunities. That way of thinking had come back to bite him where the sun didn’t shine. He couldn’t help but feel like his father had been right with his own way of thinking. See, Cassius wanted to bleed the streets dry and not provide too many opportunities. He wanted to keep them starving so that there would always be a place for him. He always said that in order to separate the bottom from the top, there had to be a clear line that people knew not to cross.

The sound of keys jangling followed by the cell door opening caught Caesar’s attention. He glanced up and saw the officer who had acted strange earlier standing there, but he wasn’t alone. Caesar’s father was there as well. As he suspected, Cassius didn’t look too happy.

“Caesar King, it’s your lucky day. You’re free to go,” the officer told him.

For a second Caesar found himself pondering over whether it would be smarter to stay in the cell or face his father. He took one more look at Cassius and saw the vein popping out of his temple like it used to when Caesar was little and got in trouble. He got up quickly from the bench and left the cell. After the officer locked it again, Caesar followed closely behind the two men as they made their way down the hallway. His father didn’t say a word to him and instead directed his attention to the officer.

“I want the wire recordings destroyed, Larry,” Cassius said in a low tone.

“You don’t have to worry about that. It’s already done,” the officer said.

“I shouldn’t even be here right now. How did something like this even happen? With all the money I pay you to keep the Feds off my ass.”

“I apologize. This slipped through our fingers. You know I would never just let something like this happen or jeopardize our arrangement.”

“Then how did it happen?”

“That son of a bitch Gerald has been working with the Feds without us knowing. I think they know there are moles in the department, because we had no idea about any of this. That damn Detective Easley has a real hard-on for you. I don’t know what he had on Gerald to make him turn rat, but he was going to use him to take you down. Lucky for you, Officer Osborne was there. He blew the bust by jumping the gun and sending a unit in before anything too incriminating was caught on the wire. He’ll have some explaining to do to the captain, especially since the recordings are now missing. But don’t worry about that. Like I said, it’s handled, sir.”

“It better be.”

Caesar knew a lot about his father’s business dealings, but that was the moment he really saw Cassius for the powerful man he was. Caesar had been almost positive that he would have to do some kind of time, but in just a few minutes his father’s influence and money freed him.

Cassius and Caesar walked out of the precinct to an awaiting limousine parked out front. Once they drove off, Caesar waited for the lecture that he thought for sure was coming. He braced himself for his father’s tongue-lashing, but it never came. In fact, Cassius didn’t say a word. Instead, he just puffed on a cigar and looked out the window. Caesar should have been relieved, but the silence was driving him crazy.

“Aren’t you mad at me?” he asked, looking over at his old man.

Cassius was in the middle of taking a long, slow drag. He exhaled the smoke with his eyes shut and didn’t open them again until his lungs were cleared. When he finally spoke, his gaze seemed to pierce Caesar’s.

“I thought I would be. But no, I’m not mad. However, disappointed? Yes. Had you been anyone else’s son, they would have tried to throw the book at you.”

“I’m sorry, Dad.”

“Sorry doesn’t change the fact that you made what could have been the biggest mistake of your life.”

“I know, but I’m still sorry.”

“I know,” Cassius sighed. “You let a rat in on my operation.”

“I didn’t think he would do something like that,” Caesar said, trying to defend himself.

“Why not? You barely knew him. And he got the closest anyone has ever gotten to crushing everything I’ve built.”

“You heard the officer. They barely got anything.”

“Exactly. And that’s more than anyone has ever gotten on my operation. Do you know why I’m such a successful businessman? Go ahead, ask me why.”

“Why?”

“Because I know who to keep in my pocket in case something goes wrong. I also know that if I don’t consider them family, they have no place at my table.”

“I was just trying to give the man an opportunity. And he blew it up in my face.”

“Let this be a lesson learned. I don’t just welcome strays off the street, and if I do, they have to prove themselves for a long time before I let them in on the real happenings around me. I can’t afford for anyone involved with me to make the kind of mistake that you made tonight. I’m not ready or willing to lose everything. I thought you were ready. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe you aren’t after a—”

“I am ready!” Caesar interrupted. “I’m just . . .”

“Just what?”

“I’m still learning, Dad. I made a mistake! You want me to be, but I’m not perfect. Mama would understand that!”

Cassius’s eyes grew wide on his son’s last words, and the energy in the back of the limo shifted. Caesar leaned back into his seat and turned to look out the window. He was upset, and it showed all over his face. He didn’t like anyone telling him what he was and wasn’t. He had stumbled along the way, but that was what lessons were: hiccups that a person found a solution to. Cassius cleared his throat, and although unhappy, Caesar knew to face him.

“I don’t expect you to be perfect.”

“You could have fooled me.”

“Maybe I spoke too soon through my own frustration,” Cassius said, softening his tone. “I often forget that, although you’re a lot like me, you belonged to her as well. You have her heart, the kind of heart that wants to see some kind of goodness in everyone. I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. But this business has no room for that kind of heart. Because some people have no good in them but will use the goodness in you against you. It’s a weakness, son, something to be reserved for only the ones you truly cherish. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Can I trust that this won’t ever happen again?”

“It won’t.”

“Good. Because I think it’s time for a promotion.”

“What?” Caesar asked, caught off guard.

“I don’t want you overseeing the streets anymore. I want you by my side. Really learning the operation. Is that something you’re interested in?”

“Ye . . . yeah!” Caesar’s voice was enthusiastic. “Of course. You sure, Dad?”

“Positive. I think this will sharpen your decision-making skills. Plus, you’re more than a knight. You’re royalty in my eyes. A king. One day all of this will be yours, so it’s time to start grooming you to take it over. But before then, there is one last loose end you need to tie up.”

“I’m already knowing what it is. I don’t like when people take my kindness for weakness.”

“The first lesson in your new position: always expect them to do that. Knowing they’ll do so will always put you in a position of power. Sometimes you have to kill a snake with its own venom for it to know to never mess with you.”

“But it would be dead,” Caesar said, making a confused face.

“Exactly.”

Laughter filled the air as a small crowd stood outside of a bodega. Three of the men were known in the streets as Hoody, Avery, and Tone. They were all listening to the story of how Caesar King had fallen from grace the night before. Gerald stood in the center of them, reciting the events.

“What that Negro say to you, Big G?” Hoody was asking.

“After I told him I wanted out and to do my own thing, he told me he wasn’t gon’ let me buy the shit off him. So I told him I was gon’ take it!”

“And then what happened?”

“Fool, look at me.” Gerald stepped back and held his jacket open. “What you think happened? I cracked his skull. That’s what the fuck happened. Got the product off him and got outta there.”

“It looks like he cracked yours too,” Hoody said, looking at the bruises and cuts on Gerald’s face.

“I never said the motherfucka didn’t fight back. He just wasn’t a match for me. I was like a gorilla.”

“Man, you’re real bold to be talkin’ about that shit out in the open like this. You know Cassius don’t play about his work.” Tone shook his head.

“I’m not worried about a Cassius or a Caesar,” Gerald said, turning his nose up in a sneer. “Plus, that fool ended up gettin’ bumped up later that day. He’s still cookin’ with the Feds as we speak. Cassius has other things to worry about, like the fall of his empire. In the meantime, y’all better get down with me before I take off. I’m about to be the king of Manhattan before . . .