As we pulled out of Vigo's mansion, I exhaled a breath I hadn't even realized I was holding.
I ran my hand over my face, staring out the window as the city lights blurred past. My mind was reeling.
"Damn," I muttered. "That was… that was Vigo."
Malik chuckled, gripping the steering wheel. "Yeah. That was Vigo."
I shook my head, trying to process everything. "I mean, I thought he'd be different.
Maybe colder, more... I don't know, more dangerous looking. But he's just…."
"A businessman," Malik finished for me. "That's what makes him dangerous. The ones who look crazy, act wild? They don't last. Vigo? He's been at the top for years."
I nodded, still feeling the pressure of everything. My heart was pounding, but not from fear. There was excitement mixed in. I just got trusted with a whole kilo of cocaine. That meant something.
"I can't believe he gave me a full kilo," I said, shaking my head. "This ain't small time anymore."
Malik smirked. "I told you, didn't I? He already likes you. You got a high chance of being in. He doesn't do that for just anybody."
I leaned back in my seat, rubbing my hands together. "Man… this is crazy."
Malik glanced at me. "Yeah? You're nervous?"
"A little," I admitted. "But I like it too."
Malik laughed. "See? That's how it starts."
I chuckled, but there was truth in what he was saying.
Malik's tone got serious. "Listen, though. Don't get too caught up in the feeling. We got work to do. That kilo in the car? That's your real test. Vigo doesn't care how you feel, he cares if you can move product fast and clean."
I nodded. "I get it."
"You should," Malik said. "'Cause right now, you're just another dude trying to make it. You wanna be in? You gotta prove it."
I took a deep breath. "So, what do you think? How does Vigo see me?"
Malik thought for a second. "Right now? He sees you as potential. A worker. Someone Malik trusts, so he's giving you a shot. That's it. But if you do this right? You start making real money? He'll see you as an asset. That's when things change."
I absorbed his words, letting them settle. This was bigger than I thought.
We drove in silence for a while, the city stretching out in front of us. Neon lights, traffic, people moving in every direction. Then, as we got closer to the city center, Malik suddenly perked up.
"Man, I'm hungry," he said. "Let's go eat."
I blinked. "Now?"
"Yeah, now," he said, already pulling into the parking lot of a restaurant. "You gotta eat, don't you?"
I looked at the place; it was fancy, but not over the top. A spot where people with money but not too much money came to eat. The kind of place where businessmen sat at one table and street guys with a little cash sat at another.
We parked, got out, and stepped inside. The smell of grilled steak and spices hit me immediately.
The place was nice, dark wood tables, soft lighting, a bar with bottles lined up like trophies.
Malik walked up to the counter, checking the menu. "I'm getting the steak and rice," he said, then glanced at me. "Order whatever you want."
I looked at the menu. The prices weren't cheap, but they weren't ridiculous either. Still, I wasn't used to eating in places like this. I thought for a second, then said, "I'll get the same."
The cashier took our order, and we grabbed a table near the window. As we waited, I leaned back in my chair, still thinking about everything.
Malik watched me. "You still thinking about the kilo?"
I smirked. "What else would I be thinking about?"
Malik chuckled. "Good. Keep thinking about it. 'Cause that's your future right there."
The waiter placed our plates in front of us. The steak on Malik's plate was still sizzling, the rice was looking very good, same as mine.
We started eating, and after a few bites, I wiped my hands on a napkin and leaned back. "Alright," I said. "I got the product. Now the problem is how to move it. And I gotta make sure the money makes sense."
Malik took a bite of his steak, chewed, and nodded like he'd been waiting for me to say that. "Look, you got two ways to do it," he said. "You can move it yourself, go out there, find buyers, break it down, and sell it piece by piece. But that's slow. You don't have regular customers yet, and in this game, time is money."
I nodded, thinking about how long it would take if I had to push it on my own.
"Or," Malik continued, "you do it the smart way. You need people. Connections. Folks you trust, who are smart and fast. You get from Vigo, you give to them, they sell, and when the money comes in, you take your cut. That's how you move weight quick, clean, and steady."
I frowned. "I hear you, but I don't know many people like that."
Malik smirked. "You ain't supposed to already know them," he said. "You have to recognize them when you see them. Just keep your eyes open. You'll know who's got the hustle in them. But be careful, move with the wrong people, and that's how you get in trouble."
I exhaled. He was right. This wasn't just about selling. It was about choosing the right people.
Malik wiped his mouth with a napkin and leaned back. "Since this first kilo came outta nowhere for you, I will help you move it," he said. "You'll be there the whole time, watching, learning. After this, you're on your own."
I nodded. "Alright," I said. "I appreciate that."
Malik grinned. "You'll see how it's done. After that, it's all you."
We kept eating, talking about strategy, risks, and how to keep things low-key.