Tapping Maleek as his ninth man was a slick, bold move, and it had definitely gotten the attention he had intended it to get. Right about now, that community-organizing niggah Trey was all over Flex’s dick hoping he could pull Maleek outta the game. Trey had sent him a message earlier saying they needed to have a face-to-face, and Flex was on his way to meet with him right now. They were gonna hold court at a Chinese restaurant down near South Street Seaport, and although Flex had used the spot for business transactions many times before, he still made sure to get there much earlier than he had to. His chief of security had checked the place out thoroughly, then posted his team in strategic spots that covered their boss from every angle. Trey was part of a known click. The Talented Ten were businessmen first, but they were gutter all the same. They held down their side of the street and were known to pounce when they needed to. Flex had expected Trey to post up in the joint at least ten deep.
