A knock at the door interrupted his thought process, and out of habit, he grabbed his pistol from the nightstand and approached the door.

He had been a bit paranoid from the events that had taken place the day before at the funeral, so he wanted to be as cautious as possible while he was in Miami. A nigga would never catch him slipping.

He looked through the peephole and eased up when he noticed the distorted image of his father’s right-hand man. Sliding the chain from the hotel door, he unlocked it and allowed Polo to enter the room.

Polo shook his head as he looked at Young Carter. It was still hard for him to get over the resemblance. Young Carter looked so much like his father, it was uncanny. It was a shame that the two men never got the chance to know one another. “Can we talk?” Polo asked, both hands tucked inside of his pants pockets.

“Yeah. come on in.” Carter set his pistol down. “You want a drink?”

Polo stepped inside. “Nah, I’m good.” He noticed how on point Carter was and thought to himself, like father, like son.

Carter walked over to his bed and pulled the bedspread over the stacks of money to conceal his business. He then sat down and motioned for Polo to take a seat in the chair across from him.

“I just came to see how long you were in town for?” Polo knew that the Diamond family needed Young Carter now more than ever.

“I’m ghost tomorrow. Ain’t nothing here for me.”

Polo had predicted this reaction from Young Carter. He didn’t expect him to feel any sense of responsibility to his family at first, but he knew that if he could convince Carter to stay around long enough, the attachment would eventually grow.

“I know this is a lot to put on your heart right now, but your family needs you.”

Carter was quick in his response. “They don’t even know me,” he stated with disdain. “That’s not my fam. I’ve only known one woman my whole life, and she the only family I need, nah mean?”