Twenty-six-year-old Arabia Mercer is a successful businesswoman from Charlotte, North Carolina with a group of amazing best friends: Exotic, Pasha, Choci, and Chyna who all ride for Arabia like only true best friends would do. Their main goal and mission, aside from being true female hustlers and bosses, is to protect Arabia from the lies and schemes of her boyfriend, Savario. Arabia thinks her relationship with Savario is perfect, but the people closest to them know that Savario is far from being the ideal man for Arabia. Arabia is so blinded by Savario‘s so called love that she can’t see any of his wrong doings even when the evidence is right in front of her face. When Arabia crosses paths with Charlotte’s biggest trapper, she may just open her eyes to a whole new world and love that she never knew before.
Ashad ‘Action’ Mills lives life fast and wild with no regards to love or women’s feelings. After the death of his father at the age of sixteen, Action turned to the streets and quickly made a name for himself. Now, twenty-seven and with his best friends: Spyda, Zane, Blue, and Zurich at his side, Action has the streets of Charlotte on lock and rules with an iron fist. His main goal is to make his money, take care of his family, and remain the self-proclaimed heartbreaker that he is. When Action crosses paths with the feisty, independent Arabia, his feelings just might shift gears.
Khanyisile ‘Choci’ Augustè is the epitome of young, black, successful, and independent. She’s worked her for everything she has and refuses to let anyone get in the way of her success. That includes sexy bad boy, trapper, and business owner, Keegan ‘Blue’ Wallace. Blue enlists Providence Park’s top party and event planning to plan a party for his sister. Blue assumes they’ll be planning out the logistics of the party with an uppity older woman, but is surprised to be meeting with a beautiful yet feisty young woman and the game is quickly changed.
Life for Kyshir ‘Spyda’ Joseph is taking a heartbreaking turn when he receives news that the love of his life and mother of his son is losing her battle with cancer and only has a few weeks left to live. Chanel doesn’t want Spyda to miss out on love and life once she’s gone, but falling in love again is the last thing on his mind that is until he meets registered nurse and matchmaker Pasha Mercer. Find out what happens when opposites attract and different worlds collide to bring these couples together.
Niggas be talking like this shit easy or something, ya heard me. (They do)
Nah nigga, I make this shit look easy, ya heard me…
I woke up to Kevin Gates “Push It”. Rolling myself out of bed, I hit the snooze button on my phone. I rubbed my eyes and stretched, grabbing my lighter and a blunt before walking out onto the balcony of my Uptown Penthouse. It’s was six in the morning and the sun was just starting to rise in the sky which meant it was my personal time to reflect on life, smoke my morning blunt, and chop it up with the big man above. It was a ritual of mine since I was eighteen and made my first million dollars as a drug dealer. Motivation, hard work, sacrifice, and faith in God is what got me where I am today. I’m twenty-seven and the head of Charlotte’s biggest drug empire grossing more than a million a week and more than four million a month.
I started hustling when I was seventeen, a year after my daddy was killed during a drug deal gone sideways. I ain’t gon’ get into that whole sob story, but I will say this, my Pops was a fucking trap star before he died. The nigga had the game on lock and nothing moved unless he gave the head nod on it. So, I guess you could say hustling and trapping was in my blood. Ten years in the game and I could honestly say that I was doing well for myself. A four bedroom penthouse on the 17th that overlooked the First Ward of Uptown Charlotte, fly ass whip, and more money than a nigga can count; yeah, I guess life is good. Trapping and hustling ain’t the only way I make my money though. I own my own restaurant called Sag 12/21 in downtown Charlotte and nightclub called Lucid; both of my businesses are just as successful as my drug empire and I got plans to open more businesses in the future as long as God keep guiding me in the right direction.
I worked hard for everything that I got, this shit wasn’t handed over to me and I ain’t gain success overnight. I was hustling and grinding late nights, sleeping in the traps, waking up at the crack of dawn just to go home and get ready for school. I hustled on campus making money from the school staff and students. I only spent money on what I needed because I wasn’t impressed with buying clothes and jewelry at the time. I had a goal in mind and that was to be the nigga that had the streets on lock. I ain’t have no whip to hit licks and shit, I was making moves on the bus, a bike, or just walking to my destination to make sales. Now, I had everything I could ever dream of and I ain’t even have trap no more, but I was still doing that shit like I was still the brokest nigga breathing. Niggas feared and respected me in the streets, it wasn’t a hood or city that I couldn’t go to where motherfuckers didn’t know me. Niggas knew not to play with Action if they valued their lives. I could be as humble as God or as grimy and ruthless as Suge Knight; my mood all depended on how motherfuckers approached me. I became that nigga that everybody came to for top of the line shit and niggas couldn’t make moves in the city without my knowledge or consent.
I finished off my blunt as I stared out at my city and thanked God for my many blessings in life before heading back inside. Sliding the door to my balcony closed, I walked inside the master bathroom whipping my dick out boxers as I stood over the toilet and took a much needed piss. Once I finished, I opened the glass door to the shower and turned it on hot then stripped down and stepped inside. I stood under the shower head for a few minutes and let the hot water rain on me before grabbing the soap and wash rag to wash my body, making sure I got every spot. After I finished my shower and my regular hygiene routine, I got dressed and threw on some jewelry. After making sure I looked good and my diamonds was shining, I made my way downstairs and grabbed the keys to my Bugatti then stepped on the elevator going down to the parking garage. Hitting the push start on the key fob, I slide inside the car and sped out the garage to get my day started.
Da Baby “Vibes” blasted through my speakers and I cruised the city. The sun was shining on a nigga and I was feeling good. I was making my usual rounds at all the traps, making sure everything was running smoothly and money was being made. It’s only 10:30am and I’m already at my last trap on the south side to check everything out. I usually do early rounds on this side with my best friend Spyda, but I knew he had to visit his girl in the hospital and get his son to school before we link up. I pulled up around back so nobody could see me arrive or leave out. We was good with a few of the cops that patrol these areas as long as I kept them paid or supplied them with product, but I still wasn’t taking no chances with them motherfuckers because they’ll turn FED on a motherfucker quick. I parked my car and hopped out, hitting the lock button on the key fob as I made my way to the back door. I knocked on the door twice and kicked it once before the locks turned and my nigga Ross opened the door.
“Action, what’s happening nigga?” He dapped me as I stepped inside the fully furnished house and closed the door behind.
“Chilling my nigga, just making rounds and shit. Zu been by here yet?” I asked as I made my way to my office to check the numbers.
“Yeah, that nigga showed up ten minutes before you came, he in yo office handling business right now.” He said and took a seat at the kitchen table where he was weighing and bagging product for the day.
I walked in the office to see Zu behind my desk counting money and writing shit down in a book. Zurich Polite or Zu(Zoo) as everybody call him on the streets is a twenty-one-year old college student studying to be a CPA, but he do work in the trap with me as well. The nigga is a fucking genius when it come to numbers, so he come through a couple hours before he gotta he in class to do our weekly counts for the traps and to pick up his weekly supply of work to sell on campus. Nobody would ever think or suspect a college going, frat pledging nigga to be affiliated with the biggest trappers in Charlotte, but Zu was definitely one of the best at what he do.
“What’s up with the numbers here? I hope shit running smoothly like it’s supposed to be.” I said, sitting in front of the desk grabbing a blunt out the box on top.
“You already know what it is nigga. Numbers looking right and shit selling just as fast as we get it. We need to hit up the connect that yo cousin down in NOLA was telling us about before the month ends. We need some new shit on the streets, people getting tired of the shit we got now; they need something stronger and more potent man.” He stated, telling me the shit that I always liked to hear.
“I hear you man, but right now we need to get rid of all this shit we got from Lyndo. He ain’t hon’ like it if he find out we trying to get a new supplier, but I’m definitely gin’ have to see what my cousin talking about later after I link up with Spyda, Blue, and Zane once leave here.” I said as I took a long drag from the blunt and scrolled through my text messages as they continued to roll in like clockwork.
“Anyway, what y’all niggas got planned for the night. I get outta class early and I’m trying to hit the city tonight and fuck up some commas.” He said as I passed him the blunt.
“I don’t know, probably hit up that party at Onyx and see what it’s hitting for, but you know we don’t make no moves til around 10 or 11. Let me get the fuck up outta here though before Zane start blowing my shit up about being late for our link up. Keep this shit in check for me though and I’ll get with you later to let you know what my people talking bout.” I said as me did our lil handshake and I made my way back out to my car.
I sat in the car and continued to look at my messages and shook my head at the shit I was reading. Bitches really needed to learn they place when it came to fucking with a nigga like me. I wasn’t committed to not one bitch which meant I was free to do what the fuck I want with whoever I want without having to answer to nobody. I kept my focus on making my money, running my businesses, and taking care of my family which meant I ain’t have time for a relationship. I usually linked up with one of my bitches to get my dick sucked or a quick fuck then it’s back to the business and the money. Fuck a bitch and her feelings!
KoKo: Action. When am I going to see you again? I know you’re busy, but I miss you and I’m long overdue for some dick. Call me!
Bitch don’t miss me, she just miss the dick.
Eleadria: Action! I know you see me calling you, why do you keep playing these games with me? You know that I love you and I’m trying to be your girl. I don’t care about those other bitches that you fuck with on the side, I’m just trying to be your main course.
Hoe don’t even love or respect herself, how the fuck she gon’ love me?
Alexis: Action, you ain’t shit but a dog ass nigga. I should’ve listened to my girls when they told me you wasn’t bout shit and all you wanted from me was pussy and head. You don’t answer my fucking calls, you barely reply to my texts, you don’t take me out in public, or none of that shit. How the fuck you gon’ fuck me good like that and get me all in my feelings just to throw me to side like a hoe!
That’s because you are a hoe, ma. A hoe with some immaculate pussy and the jaws of life!
Jamecia: You stupid motherfucker! Do you think you can just play with me like I’m a fucking doll and put me back on the self when you’re done? You got me so fucked up Action! Your ass better call me ass soon as you get this message! I swear I’ll fuck up that nice ass Bugatti that you drive! Call me motherfucker!
Bitch, I’ll beat your motherfucking ass. This is exactly why I don’t do relationships because bitches stress you the fuck out and do anything to throw you off your game. I ain’t dating neither one of these crazy hoes, yet they still find every possible way to get on a nigga last fucking nerve. This is the kind of shit you deal with when you a sexy chocolate nigga with money and good dick. Fuck the hoes real good, give a couple dollars, and telling ‘em some good shit and they get all in they feelings. Having good dick is like a blessing and a fucking curse. Not bothering to reply to neither one of them dumb hoes, I threw my phone of the passenger seat and started the car. Just like clockwork as soon as I got on the road again, my phone rung and I knew without a doubt it was Zane calling to cuss me out or ask where I was.
“Yo! Who this?” I asked purposely just to piss his light skinned ass off.
“Make me beat yo ass when I see you bitch. Where your black ass at nigga, you late.” He said through the speaker. I know my niggas like the back of my hand and knew his ass probably had a mug on his face right now.
“Fuck you, you light bright bitch. How the fuck you gon’ threaten me, then ask where I’m at like you my bitch or something. Last time I checked I ain’t fucking you and yo ass ain’t put a ring on my fucking finger.” I laughed because I knew his bitch ass was gon’ say something smart.
Zane was my fucking nigga, but the complete opposite of me. Zane Markel Dìaz was my brother from another and the most envied nigga in the Carolinas meaning North and South. It wasn’t a nigga around that ain’t wanna get at this light skinned, Philipino/Trinidadian ass nigga because all the hoes wanted him and he was the type to snatch your bitch, make her leave home for a week to a month, then drop her ass back off to you like unwanted trash. Brag about the shit in yo face and dare you to do something. The bitches loved him because he was one of them smooth talking, pretty boy type thug ass niggas, but they hated him because they all wanted him to cuff ‘em, but he wasn’t the type to just settle for any old bitch. He was real selective about his bitches and if you didn’t meet his standards then he wasn’t fucking with you. The hoes would do just about anything to get in bed with my nigga even if it meant sharing him with three or four other bitches. They was cool with it as long as they could say they had a piece of Zane. That nigga Tyga rapped about making a bitch walk to get him some cheesecake, but Zane was really living that life.
He run a couple of the traps we got outside Eastover where he lives and runs his businesses: Lavish Fitness & Gym and his tattoo shop Poison Ink Charlotte. The nigga live in a nice ass mansion with a maid and personal female chef, he fucking both of ‘em and they happy with the shit. I always tell his ass that he gon’ run into a bitch one day that ain’t gon’ go for his bullshit and make his ass fall in love.
“Ashad Elijah Mills, make a real nigga fuck you up. If I ask yo bitch ass where you at, then it’s probably for a good reason and hoe ass nigga don’t nobody wanna marry yo ugly black ass. Now, where you at bitch!” He yelled through the phone and I continued to laugh.
“Nah for real, chill out with all that yelling and shit. I’m leaving the south, had to check in with Zu before he go to class and shit. What’s up, what yo bugging ass need now?” I asked, coming to a red light and sat back in the seat.
“Word. What that nigga talking bout? How shit looking on that side?” He asked.
“Everything straight, traps doing numbers, and we good on product. Zu think I need to holla at my people about getting another connect to get some new shit on the streets, I told him we gotta get rid of Lyndo shit first before I make the call. What you think?”
“You already know what I think. Finish dumping that shit we got from Lyndo, pay him his cut, then holla at fam about getting with a new connect. We need to make a trip to Miami soon and holla at my uncle Vic on some business too.”
“Say less, we’ll talk about it. I’m bout to handle some other shit right now. I’ll meet y’all at the spot in bout a hour.”
“Bet! Be safe bruh,” Zane said as we ended the call.
I made it to Foxcroft and parked outside my mom’s crib. I turned off my car and hopped out, heading to the front door. Once I started making real bread in the streets, I moved my mom’s out the hood and into a five bedroom, five bathroom crib with a big ass backyard and built in pool. Foxcroft rank number 13 on the top 19 best neighborhoods to live in Charlotte. When I was younger, she always talked about wanting to live in Foxcroft and my daddy made a promise that he would get her dream house out here, but since he couldn’t do it, I made it happen in his honor. Being able to make sure my family straight always been my main goal and top priority after my dad was killed. My mom did the best that shit could to provide for me, my brother, and sister by working as hard as she could to give us everything thing we needed. When we found out my dad had got killed, she tried hard as hell not to give up, I used to hear her crying at night and begging God to help her stay sane for us and that shit used to hurt my heart. When I started hustling, I told her to sit back and let me take care of shit since I was the man of the house now. She hated it, but she knew I was a hard head just like my Pops, so she got over it and let me handle shit.
“Hey handsome, how you doing? I haven’t seen you in a couple weeks,” my mom turned and hugged me, then went back to scrambling eggs on the stove.
“I’m doing good, Ma. Staying busy, trying to get this money like Pop taught me,” I kissed her on her cheek.
“I hear you and I’m not mad at you for wanting to take care of business or make your money, but don’t let it keep you so busy that you go weeks without visiting your mother.” She said.
“I got you, Ma. I promise I’ll come around more often than I usually do. You know I love coming to kick it with my favorite girl in the world.” I said, stealing a piece of bacon causing her to pop my hand and point her finger at me as her way of telling me to stop eating.
“So, is there a special woman in your life that you like?” She asked as I took a seat on one of the barstools and she set a plate in front of me.
“Nope, not really. I mean I deal with a couple ho—I mean females, but I ain’t trying to be in no serious relationship right now. I’m cool with not being tied down to nobody right now, I ain’t gotta worry about nobody trying to lock me down or clock my every move.” I responded, stuffing my mouth with grits and eggs. Shit was good.
“I guess that makes sense, but Ashad, don’t be out in these just sleeping with random girls for sport or because it’s the way ‘trap niggas’ roll.” She said using air quotes as I laughed. “You’re not getting any younger baby and you should find a nice girl to settle down with and give me some grand babies. You know it’s what your father would’ve wanted.” She asserted and I nodded in response.
I really ain’t wanna talk about my dad right now. It’s been over ten years since he been gone and it still fuck with low key because my dad was like my best friend. I always been a mama’s boy, but me and my dad shared a bond that was just different from any bond ever created with anybody else. I wish he was here right now.
“Mama, leave Action alone. You know he calls himself the self-proclaimed heartbreaker of Charlotte, so he ain’t getting a girl no time soon. Haven’t you heard, trap niggas don’t fall in love.” My baby sister, Justice walked into the kitchen.
She grew up so damn fast…damn near over night. One day she was this sweet little eight year old girl playing with baby dolls and we blinked, now she explained eighteen and starting her first semester of college in the Fall. I’m very overprotective of my sister and niggas know not to fuck with her on no levels; she knew there was a lot of shit that she could and couldn’t do around Charlotte without it getting back to me. I treated Justice like a real life princess which meant she had the best of everything and was spoiled as hell. Her standards for life and love was set high, and that was the main thing I loved and respected about my baby sister because I knew for certain when she was ready for love, she wasn’t gon’ settle for just any nigga.
“Child please! Your brother can pretend all he wants, but he’s going to meet a woman one day that’s going to make him change his mind about love and all that heartbreaker mess. I don’t care how tough he is in these streets, trap niggas, as y’all young folks call them need love too.” Mama stayed as she stared at me.
“That might be true mama, but I ain’t met a female yet than can make me give up my playa ways so right now, I’m just doing me.” I shrugged.
“Mm, doing you, Yeah I hear you. I hope your ass is using protection while you’re out here just doing you. Your ass is going to wake up with a burning sensation in your little dick or fuck around and have an unplanned baby because you decided to be stupid. I’m telling your ass now, I’m not being a grandmother to no damn babies born to none of these ratchet ass hoes that you choose to mess around with.” She fussed at me.
“C’mon mama, chill out with all that and my I ain’t had a little dick since I came out the womb, even then I was packing.” I smirked and she slapped me upside the head as she laughed.
“I can’t stand your black ass. You always got some smart shit to say,” she commented as me and Justice laughed at her. “Seriously baby, you’re pushing thirty; you have money, businesses, and you’re handsome just like your father. When do you plan to settle down?”
“One day mama, I promise. When I find a girl that’s good enough to meet you and get your approval, that’s when I’ll settle down and give you some grandkids.” I kissed her cheek before putting my plate in the dishwasher.
“Yeah right! The day you bring a girl home to meet me, y’all might as well plan my funeral because I know I’m going to have a heart attack and die.”
“Dramatic woman. Look, I gotta get outta here to handle some business. I love you mama.”
“I love you too baby. Be safe and call Ashlyn…” she called behind me as I walked out the house. Ashlyn is my twenty-one year old brother; he attend school in Cali so we don’t get to see him a lot unless he fly home, but we call and FaceTime with him every day.
I breezed through the Charlotte streets, looking around. Shit’s been real good lately which meant a bad ass storm was coming around soon and some shit was going to go down and I had to make sure me and my boys was ready for it. I pulled up at the gas station and hopped out the car, hitting the lock on the key fob as I headed toward the store and made my way inside. I went to the back and grabbed a soda from the freezer. I made my way to counter, pointing at a pack of cigars and motioned for the him to pass me a couple packs. I leaned against the counter and watched as this thick, brown skinned chick walked in the store and headed to the back.
“Damn, she bad as hell,” Tony said as he stared at the girl’s ass that was poking out in her skirt. Tony was a young, Iranian dude that worked in the store from time to time. His dad owned the spot. Tony loved to hang around the black folks and roll through the hoods looking for weed and shit. The nigga was actually one of my best fucking customers and he sometimes let my workers hit licks and run drugs out the store as long as we made sure to give him a cut.
“Nigga , what you know bout a bad bitch? You probably couldn’t handle it if she threw it at you,” I laughed, pulling a fifty dollar bill from my pocket. “Here, let me get $25.00 on pump seven.” I handed him the money.
Once he gave me my change, I dapped him up and grabbed my stuff just as my trap phone vibrated in my pocket. I tried to answer the phone and didn’t even pay attention to what I was doing as I turned around until it was too late. I bumped right into shawty, causing her to stumble backwards and both of bags fell to the ground.
“Oop, I’m so sorry,” she said as she dipped down to pick up her items. “Pasha, let me call you right back.” She said quickly before ending her phone call.
“It’s cool, shawty. We both gotta be just little more careful,” I replied, helping her pick up her stuff.
“I know and again I’m sorry. I didn’t broke your phone or spill anything on you, did I?” She asked as she finally stood up straight.
“Nah, I’m straight baby,” I told her as she looked up at me and smiled.
I handed her the rest of her stuff and she just stared at me for a minute like she knew me or something.
“Damn shawty, see something you like?” I questioned with a smirk.
“Umm, I’m sorry, but I feel like I know you from somewhere.”
She looked better up close than she did far away. She was pretty as fuck with long black hair that hung pass her shoulders; I ain’t know if it was weave or not, but it looked all natural. She had real pretty brown eyes that made her look innocent and mysterious, smooth milk chocolate skin, and she had braces on her teeth. She was still fine as hell. Her frame was slim, but thick in the right places and that ass was poking for real.
“I don’t know shawty, have we met somewhere before?” I retorted.
“I’m not sure, but you do look really familiar to me. Anyway, I’m sorry again and thanks for helping me with my stuff. It was nice talking to you,” she said as she stepped around me and headed to the counter.
“You good shawty, I’ll see you around,” I said as I walked out the store. While I was pumping my gas, I decided to call Blue to see what he wanted when he called my phone. I was deep in the conversation until I looked up and saw shawty from the store heading my way. I thought she was coming to my car until I noticed the clean ass, pearl gray Audi R8 Spyder parked next to mine at the gas pump. “Aye fam, let me hit you right back.” I said before ending my phone call.
“That’s a real fly car you got,” she commented eyeing my Bugatti.
“Preciate it, shawty. Clean ass Audi you whipping, who got it for you? Yo man or yo daddy?” I asked and she giggled while shaking her head.
“I got it myself with my own hard earned money, but I can beat my last that a lot of illegal activity afforded you that there Bugatti that you’re driving.” She said lowly so only I could hear her.
“What’s yo name shawty?” I asked, changing the subject from how I’m able to afford a two and half million dollar car.
Instead of giving me her name, she just laughed then hopped in her car and drove away. I shrugged and hopped in my car not fazed by shawty. She seem like the stuck up type anyway. Stuck up bitches was the type that I couldn’t fuck with because they walked around with they noses in the air like they was too good to be fucked with or some shit. I was into the sophisticated, ratchet kind of hoes; they type that work a nine to five, but get off the clock ready to turn in the clubs. Megan the Stallion, hot girl type of bitches, but it was something about shawty from the store…Miss Audi R8. I ain’t get her name, so I can only identify her by the car she drive. She probably got one of them prim and proper ass names like Stacy or Nicole or Summer or some other pretty shit like that. She was beautiful as fuck though and made it clear that she worked hard to afford that clean ass whip that she whipping. A black woman that was all about her money and handling business as sexy as fuck, but like I said, shawty ain’t my type. Then again, if I did ever run into her again, I plan on finding out her name and see what she all about.