The atmosphere in the office plummeted to freezing. T-Ray stayed silent, but occasionally threw glances at Leon.
In his mind, he didn't owe Leon anything. Over his twenty-plus-year career as a gangsta rap producer, he had stabbed plenty of people in the back and exploited plenty more.
Even the singers under his wing who got somewhat famous rarely lived well.
The vast majority of the cash ended up in his pocket.
It was no exaggeration to say T-Ray hadn't even been half as generous to his own father as he had been to Leon. Of course, that was mainly due to the undeniable quality of Leon's work and his silver tongue.
Seeing no movement from Phil, and knowing George would arrive in minutes, Leon completely gave up.
He could only hope that when George blew Phil's brains out, he wouldn't get any blood splattered on his newly bought Ralph Lauren outfit.
Phil saw Leon as his ticket back to the top, and Leon saw Phil as a tool to escape the gang's clutches. Both were just using each other.
About the time it takes to smoke a cigarette, the silence was finally broken.
George pushed the door open and walked in, scanning everyone with an emotionless face.
He didn't need to speak. Just standing there—nearly 6'3" with the build of a linebacker—radiated enough pressure to crush the room.
Brownsville was full of urban legends about him. Since 1990, he had been shot seven times, but nothing could kill him.
Nrs like him breed fast and have shockingly tenacious vitality.
When Leon first heard these street legends, he thought they were talking about a Xenomorph.
"Phil wants to talk to you," T-Ray sneered from his swivel chair.
George slowly walked up to Phil and looked down at him. "We've known each other for years... back when Biggie was still alive. He introduced you to me."
"Fk... have I been too friendly to you, you bastard? I even forgave you when you slept with my woman back in 2000."
"Because I treated you like a homie!"
George stopped abruptly, staring dead at Phil without saying another word.
Leon had to stifle a laugh. He hadn't expected to hear that kind of ancient gossip.
But it also showed George was a solid guy. Reliable.
He really treated his homies like homies.
Phil tried to calm him down. "Listen, George, I'm not here to cause trouble. I'm proposing a way for us to work together. It's good for everyone."
Work together?
You?
George almost laughed out loud. Work with me, "Magnum" George? Do you have the juice for that?
Everyone in this room knew that at Phil's lowest point, he couldn't even pay a streetwalker at Manhattan Beach and got chased down three blocks by a Black girl with a knife.
Still, George exercised great restraint. He decided to hear what Phil's plan was.
If he wasn't satisfied, he wouldn't hesitate to pull out his switchblade and cut off the guy's tongue as a small punishment.
"Leon will sign a management contract with me. And a friend of mine living in Manhattan appreciates his talent very much. His record label will sign Leon."
"I know you and T-Ray have invested a lot in Leon. It just so happens that my friend is a generous gentleman. He will offer a price that satisfies everyone."
Hearing this, George smiled, and Leon was shocked.
Phil had never mentioned signing with a record label to him. This was basically Phil selling him out without his knowledge.
"You fking snitch..." Leon almost cursed out loud.
The smile on George's face hadn't changed. Operating on Chester Street for over 20 years, he had done every dirty deed imaginable.
Unlike the street hustlers showing half their ass cracks, he didn't need money.
Especially after tasting the huge profits from investing in Leon, a small amount of cash would be hard to sway him.
He pulled out his switchblade, laughing menacingly. "I have had enough of you, white trash!"
Seeing George getting serious, Phil, who had been struggling to stay calm, finally cracked. "Wait... let me finish, old friend."
Just then, the sound of heavy footsteps came from outside the office.
George paused, and everyone stared at the door.
A Black man wearing a black trench coat, sunglasses, and a fedora—dressed like Al Capone—barged in with a group of bodyguards in suits.
He looked down at everyone in the room like a king.
Although he had that gangsta aura, Leon couldn't help but roast him internally: Do you know how hot New York is in August?
Everyone in the room stared fixedly at the uninvited guest, sizing him up.
Suddenly, T-Ray gasped: "JAY-Z!"
That shout stunned everyone.
This Al Capone-cosplaying nr was the Godfather of East Coast Rap, Jay-Z.
The Godfather, Mr. Money, the Chosen One, the King of New York...
In the entertainment industry, he was more widely known by another nickname: "The New York Lottery King."
Because he was obsessed with discovering new talent. Relying on his deep pockets, his label Roc Nation had signed hundreds of artists.
Besides that, every business he ran was a massive success. He married Beyoncé, practically the only scandal-free diva in the industry, and casually invested in his wife's favorite champagne brand...
That brand was Armand de Brignac (Ace of Spades), which later blew up and earned him dozens of times his investment.
You could say Jay-Z was truly the Son of Fortune. He won almost every lottery ticket he scratched in life.
"T-Ray, George~ Haven't seen you in almost ten years, old friends." Jay-Z smiled and exchanged pleasantries.
Their relationship went back to the 90s. Jay-Z was a bona fide gangsta rapper and a former drug dealer.
Back in his school days, Jay-Z was already in the gang life, slinging drugs. During that time, he survived three shootings... Gradually, he earned the nickname "Jazzy," which eventually evolved into Jay-Z.
If American gangs respected seniority, George would probably have to call Jay-Z "Great Uncle."
Leon was still in shock. He hadn't expected Phil to hold a royal flush like this.
A destitute, bankrupt manager could actually get a superstar of Jay-Z's level to come down personally? Phil's connections really weren't just hot air.
After a brief silence, George recovered first. "Bro, you didn't come to Chester Street for Phil, did you?"
"Him?" Jay-Z looked at Phil with disdain and shook his head. Then he pointed at Leon. "I'm here for this young man... You know how hard it is to find gold in the cesspit of the ghetto."
"Most importantly, Beyoncé really likes this white boy's work. She's been listening to it on repeat."
Hearing this, George's heart sank halfway. Before Jay-Z mentioned Beyoncé, he thought there was room for negotiation. But now, it was impossible.
Everyone knew Jay-Z was the ultimate simp. Beyoncé's word was law to him.
This meant he was determined to get Leon, and no one could stop this billionaire's whim.