Blood on the Marble

Back in the present…..

JC swallowed hard, the anger on his face twisting into fear.

Eazy gave a small nod, hiding the growing pit in his stomach.
He’d gambled on silence — gambled on luck — and now they were all paying the price.

He looked back over his shoulder — Zengo was watching them now, lazily tossing grapes into his mouth, one by one. The human chair beneath him shifted uncomfortably, but Zengo casually kicked him in the ribs, making him freeze.

"Time's ticking, Eazy," he called out, smiling without warmth. “You know I hate waiting, yeah?”

Eazy straightened.
He knew there was no way out of this except through.

He motioned for Musa and Zuri to get JC on his feet, and together they limped back to the center of the room.

"We planned the heist ourselves," Eazy said, keeping his voice respectful but strong. "No one else was involved. We were going to see you tomorrow. We didn't think it'd cause problems—"

"You didn’t think?" Zengo interrupted, voice rising an octave. His face twisted with mock outrage. "You didn’t think, Ezekiel?"

He stood up, pacing toward them slowly.
The room seemed to shrink with every step he took.

"You cross into my kingdom. You steal from me. And then..." He leaned in close, nose-to-nose with Eazy, his breath hot and foul.
"You don’t think?"

Eazy stayed still. He could feel Zuri and Musa tensing behind him.

Zengo chuckled darkly and stepped back, rubbing his chin.

"Well... I thought about it. And I... think someone needs to pay."

Eazy calmly said, “Please Zengo, it was an honest mistake. We can work this out No one has to…”

Zengo raised a hand, silencing him. He didn’t speak at first.
Instead, he studied Eazy with a look that was almost... nostalgic. His hard eyes softened just slightly, like a man remembering something from a lifetime ago

"You know," Zengo said slowly, turning his head toward Otis, "I raised this boy myself."

Otis raised an eyebrow. "I didn’t know that."

Zengo chuckled, the sound dry and bitter. "Back during the Revolts 7 years ago, when we bled to put Mtemi in power... this one was still running around barefoot. I took him in. Taught him how to survive as if he were my own blood."

He leaned back lazily, his hand cradling his cheek as if the memory pained him.

"I didn’t just teach him the hustle. I taught him the rules. Loyalty. Respect. Things that matter more than money. It’s a sad day when a father has to discipline his own son," he said, almost tenderly. "But sometimes... a broken branch must be cut so the tree can grow stronger."

He tapped his temple lightly, a gesture of cold wisdom. Then his gaze sharpened — and the mask of fondness fell away, replaced by ruthless command.

He pointed, fast and sharp, like a man choosing a goat for slaughter.

"You."

Musa stiffened.
Zuri gasped audibly.

Before anyone could react, Otis grabbed Musa roughly by the shirt and dragged him forward. Zuri and Eazy moved pulling Musa back. Zengo's guards pulled out their guns casually, aiming them lazily at them and JC — a silent warning.

Musa struggled but Otis shoved him down to his knees.

Zengo stared at Musa for a while before smiling. “Actually, bring me the earlier one. That shorter one with the loud mouth.”

Otis gestured and two guards stepped out of the room. In a mere moments they came back in with Juma in tow whose face was already bleeding. It looked like he had been beaten after his earlier theatrics.

Zengo leaned in, pulling out a gold-plated pistol from his waistband.
He weighed it casually in his hand.

"You know," Zengo said conversationally, "in our line of work, we have a saying."

He crouched down, putting the barrel of the gun under Juma’s chin.

"Fuck up once..." He clicked the safety off."...you pay in blood."

Juma clenched his fists at his sides. He stared back defiantly and spat at the ground, a mixture of blood and saliva.

“Juma! Apologize Now!” Eazy barked.

Juma looked back at him and smiled. “I ain’t afraid to die.”

“Shut up you idiot,” Zuri spoke, her voice shaking. “Stop it. This is not a movie.”

Juma ignored her speaking to Zengo, loud and clear. “Do it,” he said. "You thought I would apologize or something. Maybe beg for my life? Nah, bro."

Eazy bit his lip, the pit he felt in his stomach growing larger as fear and anxiety mix together into a stressful cocktail. He’d known Juma was reckless and strong-headed. He just hadn’t thought that everything would get so bad so fast.

The room went silent.

Zengo raised an eyebrow, amused.

"Oh? A revolutionary, are you?"

Zengo grinned — genuinely this time. “I like resilient guys like you. If natured you might make a good addition to the First Blood.”

He then whispered into Juma’s ears. “Unfortunately, I don’t have the time.”

Zengo then put the gun towards Juma’s forehead. The weight of it pushing Juma’s head back slightly.

“This is not personal youngblood, just a much needed education. Any last words?”

Juma smiled faintly, blood trickling from his busted lip.

“None for you. Just wished I had that cigarette.”

Zengo grinned, genuinely this time. “Safe travels youngblood.”

He sighed and without hesitation pulled the trigger. The gunshot echoed like a cannon blast in the marble hall.

Juma's body crumpled to the floor, blood pooling fast under him.

Zuri screamed. JC lunged forward but was yanked back by Musa. Eazy squeezed his eyes shut for a second, swallowing the grief like poison.

Zengo spun the gun in his hand like a cowboy.

"Lesson learned?" he said lightly.

He turned his back on the body like it was trash on the sidewalk and went back to his human chair, sitting down lazily.

"Now," Zengo said, picking up another grape and popping it into his mouth. “Where’s the necklace?”