Author's Chapter Notes:

I had part of this story on my computer for about s year now, so I said to myself "I might al well put it up now!!!"...and I did. LOL! Here it is and I hope you guys like it. Feedback is always good, so enjoy!!!

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters, settings and such belong to their owners, which is not me. The characters in this story are made up from my little head and I do not know Justin Timberlake or anybody else important. No copyright infrigement is intended and this is my story. So don't take it!!!

I remember the day that my Uncle Lou died. I remember that day so damn clear, it felt like it happened yesterday.

Let's see. It was the summer of 1994 in Miami. And if I do my math correctly, then I was 13 at the time. Well that day he promised me, my best friend Trace, and Anthony, that he was gonna take us to Disney World. That was where we were headed. Well before we left for the long trip to Orlando, Uncle Lou stopped at a corner store in Little Haiti to buy some snacks for us and of course to handle some business. Trace, Tony and I were sitting in my Uncle Lou's Lexus, excited that we were going to Orlando. Uncle Lou was in the store talking to one of his partners and I was playing with my game boy. Uncle Lou walked out of the store and before he could get to the car, we heard the shots go off. The 3 of us kids got down from our seats like my Uncle had once taught us, and all I heard were screaming and yelling in the streets. It was exactly 5 shots I heard, and then I heard the sound of a car skidding off. When I hear people yell some more, I sit back up, open my eyes and I no longer see my Uncle Lou standing. He's on the side walk, bleeding and hanging on to whatever is left of his life. His partner was already outside freaking out as well as the store clerk, screaming at people to call for help. We never went to Disney World that day.

It was so fucked up. The man that looked after Trace, Anthony and I since we were little had died before our very own eyes. The man that had taught us how to grow and live our lives like young boys was now gone. And it fucked me up in my head the worst way.

My Uncle Lou was my dad's best friend. My dad was in prison serving a long sentence for something he and my Uncle had been doing for almost 20 years. Drug trafficking in Florida. My dad and Uncle were both caught and my dad took the fall for both of them. They had good lawyers but not well enough. So my dad was sent away and in return my Uncle Lou made a promise that he would watch over me like I was part of his very own family, that he would treat me just like his son Anthony.

Uncle Lou had found Trace when Trace was 6, in the middle of Little Havana without any known family. Even though my Uncle was the biggest badass you would ever meet, the man still had a heart. So he took Trace in and that's when he was watching all 3 of us.

My Uncle Lou was my life. That man taught us everything we needed to know. Cause being a country white boy (me), a nameless half Mexican kid (Trace), and a Cuban tyke (Anthony) was very hard when you were growing up in Carol City, Miami. And Carol City wasn't paradise.

Uncle Lou tried his best to make sure we didn't get hurt and to keep us out of any street trouble. But the streets didn't care who you were and Uncle Lou showed us how to survive in them. He taught us that we had to go after whatever we wanted. And he taught us how to stay loyal to your family and your close friends. He had to teach us that. He was always the go to guy in these streets of Miami, everyone wanted something from him, and because of that you had to stay truthful and watch for your family by watching each others back.

Of course Lou was the top dog in Miami. The man was strictly business when it came to his shit. You couldn't fuck with him or his family. Uncle Lou carried the business that my daddy had left him and Uncle Lou carried it all on his back. But this time my Uncle was more discreet about it. He hired some of Florida's best lawyers, paid a few bent Miami cops and DEA agents to make sure they looked the other way. Damn. Uncle Lou even had a few congressmen looking out for him. But of course my Uncle Lou got too big, made some bad enemies and he was gunned down in Little Haiti in the summer of 1994. Ever since then Trace, Tony, and I grew up together on our own and later took over this business. And this shit is no fucking joke. Not even for my 26 year old ass.

"Ayo JT, we got some business up in the front. Come check this out." 25 year old Anthony Morales says to me, breaking me out of my thoughts. I slowly look over at him standing at the doorway of my office in my multi-million dollar mansion and I sigh.

"Who is it?" I ask softly. Tony adjusts the desert eagle in his gun holster and rolls his eyes.

"Benji Kozosky. Dude is waitin' for you. Ready to talk serious." Tony explains this to me as I get up from my seat and fix my satin neck tie.

That's what my Uncle Lou also taught me. Dress sharp like you mean business. So others would get your message the first time you bring it around. Of course Tony and Trace don't really follow this rule.

After I button up my vest, I walk past Tony and make my way down the hallway.

"Where's Trace?" I ask to Tony who is walking behind me.

"Probably still hung over, again. You know how he gets when he's having fun. Dude goes all out. As a matter of fact, he brought home 3 fine ass chicks from the club last night." Tony says with a chuckle.

I don't find it amusing at all, unfortunately.

"Trace can't be having too much fun. If he does then he's gonna end up slipping and we can't fucking slip." I say sternly as I make my way down the spiral stairs.

"I know I know. But you know I can't tell him that shit. The guy is so fucking stubborn."

I make my way to the large front doors nodding to my door man as he opens up the door for me and Tony. The Miami September heat hits me making me quickly regret that I had not chosen to wear a short sleeve dress shirt instead.

Tony and I walk down the long cobblestone driveway where we soon come face to face with Kozosky and his bodyguards. I don't have any of mine by my side at the moment, but if Kozosky or any of his blockheads tried some funny shit, then one of my guys that are watching from the balconies, the main gate, on the sides of the house, and at the front door will be ready to shoot if it has to come to that. So if anyone needs to be worried then it shouldn't be me right now.

"Ah, Mr. Timberlake. It is so good to see you again." Kozosky says with a Russian accent and a fake smile. I put on my fake smile too and accept Kozosky's given hand for a shake.

"Likewise, Benji." That was a lie.

"Um I hope you don't mind, but can we talk inside?" Kozosky asks as he looks at my many bodyguards. So, he is the one who is worried.

I smirk as I look back at one of my guys and fold my arms across my chest. I look down at my shiny dress shoes and shake my head no.

"You have nothing to be worried about Benji. So long as you remain wise, nothing will happen." I truthfully say.

I hear Tony let out a small laugh. Honestly, Benji shouldn't be worried about my guards. It's Tony he should be scared of.

"Okay Mr. Timberlake. I respect your choice. Let's hope you remain wise too." Benji responds.

I don't like this guy.

"What is the reason for your visit Benji? You show up at my home unannounced, us standing in the heat, and you tell me to watch myself? You better have a really good reason, man." I speak quietly.

"Right to the point I see?"

"Benji." I push.

"Okay okay. I start now?" He asks with a sly smile.

"You can." I'm getting irritated.

"Mr. Timberlake, I am here to tell you that that little friend of yours is too busy watching my work. I want to tell you now, hoping that you can get him to back off a little. It makes me uh, what is that word? Um jumpy you know? I feel violated. I have a right to my work just as much as you do, so I don't see the need of having someone watch me, Mr. Timberlake. I grew up in a country where the citizens are always being watched by some higher power. I don't need this here." Benji states. I avert my blue eyes at one of his body guards and I notice that Benji isn't smiling any more. And neither am I.

"Benji, I put my man there to watch you because of that shit you tried to pull on me few months back. I could've easily had you killed but you should be grateful that this is all I have done to you. So why are you complaining?"

"Wait. Did you just threaten me Mr. Timberlake?" Benji asked quickly as he narrowed his eyes at me.

"No I'm not threatening you. I'm just telling you how it is. You tried to pull some moves behind my back with those fools over in West Palm, making stupid ass trades and deals, basically selling me out to those guys. And you knew damn well I have a problem with West Palm. So to make sure you don't get out of place, I have to--"

"I told you Justin, that was not my intentions." Benji interrupts me and calling me by my first name. Out of the 4 years I have been doing business with Benji that is the first time he has called me by my first name.

"I had no freaking clue that those guys were using my deals to get to you. You know if I had known, I would've cut all ties with Romero and his brothers. You know this Mr. Timberlake." Benji continues.

He now has his hands in his pockets and I am now looking him dead in his eyes. I zone out a little to think about what I should do. There are times where I wish my Uncle Lou was here just to give me some fair advice. Now would have been real good. I can back off a little but I hope he doesn't actually think I won't be watching him.

"Okay Benji. I'll have him back off." I sigh.

"Ah thank you." He says with a smile.

"But don't think for a fucking second of your waking life that I myself won't be watching you." I point at him as he gives me his hand to shake. He nods quickly.

"I promise Mr. Timberlake. You can trust me." But I ignore his hand.

"Don't fuck me over Kozosky. And I fucking mean it. If you do, I swear on everyone I love, that I will be the one that will personally come after you." I say standing just inches from his face.

I notice that his 2 men step up but Benji brings his hand up to them. I hear the gun from Tony click, ready to shoot, and my men at the gate have there AKs ready for fire.

"Okay. Cowboy." Benji whispers with a smirk on his face as he brings his hand down slowly. I clench my jaw, watch as he says something in his language and one of bodyguards laugh a little. Benji then turns around and heads over to his limo.

"You have a good day. Mr. Timberlake." Benji lets one of his men open the car door for him and then the man says...

"Cowboy, I like that name. It suits you." The Russian guard says with a laugh as he gets in and shuts the door of the vehicle.

I'm still standing there and watching as my men let the gates open for the limo and see it leave. Tony puts his gun back in the holster and I slowly turn around to face him.

"You should have let me take that fucking loser to his head." He says with a small smile. Why is everyone freaking smiling today?

"Why? So his assholes could come after my head? Gotta think Morales." I state as I tap my finger on Tony's head. He gives me a friendly shove as I chuckle. Probably the only amusement I will have this whole day.

Tony and I walk back into the house to find a zombie looking Trace in a white robe, coming down the stairs. His hair is messed up and his eyes aren't open all the way. I stop to speak to Trace.

"So I heard you brought 3 of them back here. How was it?" I ask. Tony snorts as he leans against the railing. Trace slowly smiles and shakes his head.

"Dude. I really don't fucking remember much. I do remember one chick sucking my dick. I don't remember which one but golly she was freaking good." Trace says. That smile doesn't come off and he now has Tony laughing.

"Really?" I said with a smirk.

"Hell fucking yeah. Shit. They're still upstairs if you wanna shot." Trace offers. I make a face as if I'm disgusted and turn to head to the kitchen.

"No thanks dude. I don't want your stinky leftovers." Tony laughs and Trace shrugs his shoulders.

"Free pussy and you're turning it down? You must be hella sick." Trace's comment makes me and Tony laugh.

These two seriously make my day. Thanks to my great Uncle Lou, he left me with these two and in this crazy dangerous life we live, and we're all we have.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Damn. Seriously Brooke, what did you do? Shop at every store in Miami?" Samantha Johnson, my cousin asked me. It hasn't even been 24 hours since I came from my flight and I was already shopping as if the world was coming to an end. I can't help it.

"I told you don't let me go out and buy anything. This isn't anyone’s fault but your own. So hush." I said as I put all the shopping bags that I had on my arms down in the middle of my cousin's apartment living room. Samantha rolled her eyes playfully and walked into the kitchen to grab a Budweiser from the fridge. She knew I was going to spend the next 3 weeks staying with her so at my request, Samantha stocked up on some beer and frozen burritos.

I'm here on vacation all the way from Los Angeles. I felt as if I needed one seeing how I work 6 days a freaking week as a receptionist at a law office. And what better place to vacation in than Miami? Well that's all I could afford. It was either this or St.Tropez and I had no money for no damn St.Tropez. So I call up my best friend slash cousin Samantha, let her know that I was on my way over and Samantha welcome me with open arms. And this was a good thing that I came down here seeing how my family was out in Palm Beach.

I happily removed the 3.5 inch heels Jimmy Choo shoes from my feet, seeing how I spent the whole damn morning shopping around, and carelessly threw them on the other side of the couch. Not my crib, I don't care. I then tiredly plopped myself down on the leather Lazy Boy chair. Sam came walking in with an extra bottle of Budweiser in her hand and gave it to me.

"I hope it's not too early for you to be drinking." Samantha said. Ha! Too early?

"Pssh. It's never too early in my book." I responded as I snatched the bottle from Samantha's grasp. Samantha giggled as she sat on the other couch and turned on the television with the remote. She set the channel on CNN that was reporting of a shooting at an amusement park and she put the remote down on the coffee table in front of her.

"Oh no. No bad news for me. Put on some MTV, BET or something." I commanded as Samantha scoffed. Samantha sat back up to grab the remote and put it on MTV and of course TRL was on.

"I had seen your man, Darius, downstairs this morning as I was heading out. That damn fool tried to act like he didn't know me. Just walked right pass me. You need to check him on his manners." I tell my cousin about her nobody boyfriend. Samantha's eyes instantly light up at the mention of her boyfriend of 3 years. This reaction causes me to roll my eyes.

"Don't be mad, that my man is perfect and is everything you wish your man was." Ugh. Here we go.

"See Sam. You keep on lying to yourself when you call Darius a man. Cause dude is more like a little boy, okay?" I simply replied playfully. Samantha laughed as I giggled.

"Riiight. And I suppose Tyler is a real man? Girl, please. I don't even wanna go through the long list with the stuff that is wrong with your dude. We will be here all afternoon if I have to do that." What? This trick...

"Um yeah." I said then taking a gulp of the cold beer. I did not wanna get into the subject of my boyfriend Tyler Adams. Shit, Tyler was one of the reasons why I had to take a break from my crazy California life, and come to Florida for vacation.

"Just last week you called saying how you think he's already messing around on you, Brooke. He's fucking up and you know it." After she says this I quickly tense up.  

Samantha takes a sip from her beer as she heads back into the kitchen. I soon follow her into the kitchen and then I hop up on the counter top.

"I said that he might be messing around. That doesn't mean he's really fucking up. I'm just paranoid I guess. He's had a long list of woman and it seems more are trying out for him. But I know he's not giving in." I state to Samantha. I was actually lying to myself. I know Tyler is fucking around. That freaking bastard.

"I guess not. But I would watch out if I were you." I really didn't have a response and I wanted to end the sensitive subject so I just gave a simple shrug.

"But if he is messing around on you, then I will fly my ass over to L.A. and beat his ass M.I.A style." Samantha said as she brought her fists up and threw a couple of hooks causing me to throw my head back in laughter. I can always count on her to cheer me up.

"No. I'm dead ass serious. You know how we do down here in the 305!" Sam shouts trying to sound like a thug. This girl is a trip.

"Speaking of how it's done in Miami. We need to do something tonight. I'm not about to stay stuck up in here all day. We need to go clubbing tonight." I informed as I removed myself from the counter.

"You just got back from shopping. Don't tell me you didn't do anything all day today."

"Well I have some fresh new gear and I wanna rock them tonight. That means we gotta go hit the city up. I wanna be able to take my mind off the stress." I say with a sigh.

"Fine. Hopefully we can get you some hot man tonight. This is Miami and there are plenty. Lord knows you need one, especially if you're dating lame ass Tyler." Samantha explained. I told you she was a trip.

"No. I don't want to deal with no man tonight. I'm just gonna go out, get fucked up, have a good time, and come home right before the sun comes up. And there will be no man involved during this whole time." I said as I fixed my hair in a messy bun.

"Well if that's the case. I know this one hot spot on South Beach that keeps the drinks flowing all night long, and I have some connections there. We can get in for free without waiting in the long ass line." Sam says.

"That's what I'm talking about right there." I said excitedly. Samantha washes her hands and then dries them off as I adjust my skirt.

"In the mean time, I have to head over to the bank, get my hair appointment going, and have my toe nails done. Gotta look right. Are you coming with me?" I thought for about a few seconds. I mean I really don't wanna stay here for the rest of the day so I might as well head out too.

"Yeah. I might as well get my nails done while we're there. Let's get going." Samantha grabbed her keys and purse from the kitchen table as I went into the living room to put on my shoes and grab my purse as well. As soon as I did that my cell phone went off and I looked at it seeing that it was Tyler. I grunted, not really in the mood to talk, so put her ringing phone back into her purse and followed Samantha out of the apartment. Both of us excited for what was ahead later on that night.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I'm not much of a partier. I mean I have fun when it's time to have fun, but for me those moments come rare. So when Tony or Trace wants me to go out and have fun, I only go to 2 exact places. My nightclub and restaurant that I own. It would be too dangerous for us to go anywhere else. But when I'm at any of those 2 places I'm not the one dancing like a fool, drinking like an ass, or posting up on the wall like some wannabe. I'm in V.I.P or in my office upstairs once again handling business. It's my workplace away from home so...yeah.  This drug shit doesn't slow down for anyone. Not even for a hot shot like me. So I always have to watch my stuff to make sure my products are being moved properly to who is selling for me. I told you before, this is no freaking joke.

For the second time this day, I'm back in my office talking to one of my partners on the phone, talking about the usual stuff. I hear a knock on my door and I quickly say "Come in." Trace comes in and shuts the door behind him. He looks a whole lot better since I seen him this morning as he is now wearing a red polo shirt and black Ed Hardy jeans. He lets me continue my phone conversation as he sits down in one of the large leather chairs that are sitting in front of my desk.

"Yes sir. I can have the trucks come in later on this afternoon to pick up the cargo. Mmm no." I say into the phone. Trace grabs a pen from my desk, and a note pad. He writes something on it really quick and sends the pad right back to me. It reads "We can't take anymore more than 500 Kilos. Ask him how much came in?"

"Okay. Do you know just exactly how much was shipped in?" I ask into the phone. I wait for a response and I write back the amount that was given to me. "954.55 Kg!" Trace reads what I wrote then quickly writes back "Take only 500. Send back rest. Don't tell him why."

"Okay. Well I'm gonna take only 500 Kilos this month. No specific reason. Just being cautious." Trace nods to my response then looks outside of the window. After getting some things straight I end the conversation, put the phone back in its receiver, intertwine my fingers on my desk and look up at Trace.

"I'm not even gonna ask what that was all about. I just hope you know what you're doing." I said. Trace looks back over to me and grins.

“We need to start bringing in a set amount, dude. If we keep purchasing more and more each time, then that makes people look at us. We don't want to be looked at, remember? We bring in too much at a time than that makes us look funny and next thing you know, National Guard is gonna be seizing your boats." Trace explains. Even when I'm about to cause a slip up, Trace is always right there watching out for me, making sure I don't. He can have his smart moments too.

I simply nod as I lean back in my chair to bring my feet up on the desk. I then loosen up my tie around my collar and toss the tie on a near by couch.

"So what's up man?" I ask Trace.

"Nothing really. Just sent Tony and couple of the boys out on an errand. Other than that, just hanging around." Trace responds. I look out of the large window, that over looked the pool, the bay and out to Miami Beach. I sit for a while not saying much, just taking in the beautiful view. Then I hear Trace sigh.

"Who would've thought that we would sit in a 7 million dollar home that belonged to us in freaking Bay Point, Miami? I mean to go from grungy ass Carol City to Bay Point. Who would've thought?" Trace says in awe.

"Huh. You're telling me. Remember when we were kids and Uncle Lou would take us here all the time just to show us what its like?" I say, bringing back out childhood memories.

"Yeah. You think he'd be surprise that we made it out here?"

"Of course! He'd probably be proud. I mean look at us. Bay Point top of the line." I point out to Trace. Trace smiles and looks back out the window. My memory is suddenly interrupted when I see one of my guards pass by on the balcony. That is when I go back to business mode.

"What do we have going on for tonight?" I ask Trace.

"Well, I think we should head to The Blue Room. Word is Keenan and his guys are gonna be there tonight. Probably looking for you." Trace mentions about my club. I quickly shoot my eyes in his direction and that's when I'm sitting up again.

"What the fuck do you mean Keenan and his guys are gonna be there? Is that bastard still hell bent about who hit up his warehouse a month ago? I thought I already told that stupid cunt I had nothing to do with it." I respond sternly, feeling troubled.

"I don't know what his reason is for coming in tonight. But I'd go if I were you. Just to make sure he doesn't try to act a fool."

"Oh I'm going but I don't want that loser coming in my fucking club. Let the bouncers know this. Keenan just can't show up whenever the fuck he wants and start trouble on my freaking time. That crap is gonna do nothing but put more legal shit in my damn lap and I don't need that right now."  I hope you can tell by now that I'm highly upset. I can already feel my migraine coming on, so I reach into my draw and pull out my aspirin. I open up the bottle, take 2 pills out and swallow them dry.

"Calm down, Justin. Look I'll call Tony to call the bouncers and warn them about Keenan and his crew. Just have some fun tonight and don't worry about that rat, Okay?" Trace advises me. I close my eyes and rub my forehead with the palm of my hand.

Today has not been a good day and I know for a fact that it's just gonna get worse. Just like every other day has been for the past 13 years. And for the past couple of months I've been feeling somewhat paranoid. It's just the fact that so many people are out to get you and it's only a matter of who and why. It would also explain why I hired 30 more guards. Tony and Trace think I'm just being over dramatic, but honestly being over dramatic in this kind of work can't be considered a bad thing. Especially when you made way too much enemies. So I have every right to be mother fucking paranoid.

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