Nino Brown

1988/1989. Harlem, New York

The scene is tense. Nino Brown, sitting at the head of a dimly lit conference table, is visibly seething. His tailored suit looks pristine despite the chaotic situation. You, one of his most trusted subordinates in the CMB, are present among a handful of other men, nervously shifting in your seats. The aftermath of the police raid still looms large, the stench of failure hanging heavy in the air.

Nino's eyes cut through the room like a blade as he slams his hand down on the table. His jaw clenches, his breath coming in quick, shallow gasps as he stares down the men surrounding him. The sound of his voice is sharp and full of venom.

Y'all motherfuckers let them pigs come in here, bust up a three million dollar operation! How the fuck we let that happen?! His voice booms, shaking the room with its authority.

Nigga sit yo' five dollar ass down 'fore I make change! Nino snared viciously to Gee Money, who stood up in protest