A Grand For My Grave
Language: en
Five years after my family erased my name from their legacy, I ran into my uncle at a private club downtown. He was Marcus Blackwood, the guest of honor, a veritable godfather in this city’s underworld, here to celebrate his fiancée’s new venture in the Caribbean. And I was just one of the girls paid to pour the drinks. We didn’t make eye contact the entire night. Not once. Not until a drunk client, a fleshy man with a diamond pinky ring, slapped a hunting knife flat on the table and pointed it at me. “Hey, you,” he slurred, a cruel grin spreading across his face. “Crawl around the…