Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 73556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
“Careful, Roman. Let’s not get too carried away.” Grandpa stated between gritted teeth.
“I can’t get carried away, if I’m the eagle soaring. I could mow all of you motherfuckers down before my next blink, and I could have taken my foul grandpa out tonight with my bare hands,” he grinned, “but I’m not goin’ to prison for no fuckin’ body.” He looked around the table, making eye contact with all of the men who were now getting back into their seats. “That’s what this man wants—for me to either die, get locked up for eternity, or play by his rules. All of y’all sold your souls to the devil.” He pointed around the table. “I ain’t too keen on religion, but I know evil is real, and I know a demon when I see one.
“I know it because I feel that tainted blood runnin’ through my veins. My mama’s blood is the only thing that saved me from becomin’ the same type of man you see sitting here before you today. He says I’ll end up like my daddy. Nah, he knows deep down I could end up just like him. That’s ten times worse. Nobody cares about you, Grandpa.” He sneered at his grandfather, who’d gotten to his feet, his hand gripping a large steak knife that he’d gathered from the table. “They fear you. Nobody loves you. They hate you.”
“Son, you’re gonna pay extra for this stunt you pulled tonight. Life ain’t a magic trick or sleight of hand. There’s consequences to the wrong choices we make in life, no matter how compelling they may be. That aside, I’d rather be hated than be you.”
“I’m so lowly… so inconsequential. And yet, I’m someone that you’ve moved heaven and hell to try and get under your thumb… Strange, huh? Lil’ ol’ me?” Roman pointed to himself. Grandpa’s jaw stiffened. “Sounds like you want to be me alright… difference is, Grandpa, this black sheep is adored. I’m a thief. A crook. A former womanizer. All of that and more. But people fucking like me, and you hate that. Women want me not just because of my bank account balance, but because I’m a clever, suave, entertaining motherfucker, and I stand on business. I could be penniless, still have a crowd around me, and plenty of pussy to choose from. There’s people that actually truly enjoy my company. Call me just to hang out. I’m engaging, outgoing, and even when I was robbin’ motherfuckers blind, they were havin’ fun while I was doing it.
“Nobody gives a fuck about you. People want your wealth. That’s why they want to be around you. It’s all dreamlike bullshit! Folktales and make-believe… you’re the true magician standin’ here. Making people’s hopes and dreams disappear. Problem is, you’ve bought into your own mystic mayhem.”
“I know who I am, deep down inside, Roman. Contrary to this show that you’re performing right now, one day, to prove you wrong, you’ll see millions of people at my funeral, when the Lord finally calls me home.”
“There’ll be millions of people at your funeral all right. On that, we will agree. Not out of sadness, but to get in line to spit on your embalmed corpse and your gotdamn grave. What a sad, pathetic existence. By the way, the Lord doesn’t call malignant spirits home. You’ll be getting a call from a different ruler—the dungeon master that resides way downstairs.”
“Roman, a swollen ego is one hell of a drug. I let these men know with my eyes to stand down. I knew you weren’t tryna kill me. You don’t want to part with your riches. Loss of prestige, reputation and your career means just that. It was another sleight of hand. A bluff. Otherwise, you’d have six knives in your back. A seventh one if you count mine. Roman, your days are numbered. I don’t give—”
“Numbered? That’s good because numbers are my forte… How much do I detest you? Let me count the motherfucking ways. What you see as weakness in folks is love and forgiveness. What you see as a fuckup is human frailty, is a soul in need of grace, mercy, and understandin’. I ain’t God though,” Roman chuckled real easy like. “I ain’t forgiving you for shit. Find somebody else to do it… I don’t do the same dumb shit twice. You’ll only catch me slippin’ once. I won’t even charge you for that bit of info. It’s on the house.” He re-buttoned his suit jacket. “I don’t give anything away for free, but for you, I’ll make an exception.” Roman winked at his grandfather.
“I’ll leave your toys in the woods when I get good and ready. Whatever this tyrant is paying you, it’s not enough. Oh, and a word of advice. Money might be the root of all evil, but Grandpa here is the rhizosphere. Look that word up if you don’t know what that is. Have a good evening, boys.” He then turned and walked away, rejoining his gathering…