Concrete Roses Part 2

Story Time with Anthonio Von Swagger: Dive into original tales amidst a digital backdrop.

Chapter 6: The Brothers Take Over

Their father was gone. Locked up.

And while most kids would’ve been lost without a man to guide them, they weren’t like most kids.

They didn’t need guidance. They needed an opportunity.

And this? This was it.

The First Meeting

It happened at night. Late. In the back of an abandoned house, the kind of spot only ghosts and dealers stayed in.

Black sat on a crate, rolling a blunt, watching the four other boys in front of him.

Dirty. C-Man. Boo. Jimmy.

All his brothers. Same blood. Same fire in their veins. Some born inside their father’s marriage, some outside—but all carrying his name in the streets.

“So what now?” Dirty asked, leaning against the wall, smoking. “Pops gone. Somebody gotta step up.”

C-Man cracked his knuckles. “Ain’t gon’ be nobody but us.”

Boo grinned. “Shit, we already got names out here. Just gotta let ‘em know what time it is.”

Jimmy sipped from a bottle, quiet but listening. He never talked much, but when he did, people listened.

And Black? He was just watching. Thinking.

Finally, he spoke.

“Ain’t about making noise,” Black said, voice calm. “It’s about making moves.”

The room went silent.

Dirty smirked. “Shit, Black. You always thinking.”

Black hit the blunt, exhaled slow. “That’s why I’m still here.”

Nobody argued. Because they all knew it was true.

And in that moment, The Brothers were born.

Chapter 7: Young Men in a Grown Man’s Game

Most of the hustlers in the city were grown. 30s, 40s, some older. They had rules. A system.

But The Brothers? They didn’t give a damn about that.

They were young. Hungry. Ruthless.

And the worst part? They were smart.

Dirty’s Power Move

Dirty wasn’t just wild—he was calculated.

And when he saw a chance to take over a street corner from an older dealer, he took it.

The dude was mid-30s, been in the game since before Dirty was born. Thought he was untouchable.

Until one night, Dirty and C-Man rolled up on him.

The dude was posted outside a liquor store, counting money, thinking he was safe.

Dirty walked up, cool as ever. “Heard this your block.”

The dude looked him up and down. “Yeah. And?”

C-Man stepped forward, hand on his waistband. “Not no more.”

The dude laughed—until Dirty pulled out the .38.

No words. No warnings. Just a gun in his face and a choice to make.

The dude backed down. Fast.

And just like that, The Brothers had their first corner.

C-Man & The Art of War

C-Man wasn’t just tough—he was built for war.

One night, some older dudes tried to press them, thinking they were just kids playing gangster.

Big mistake.

C-Man was the first to throw hands. No hesitation.

Broke one dude’s nose with a single punch. Dropped another with a body shot so hard, he puked on himself.

By the time it was over, four grown men were on the ground.

And The Brothers? They weren’t just fighters.

They were a problem.

Boo & Jimmy: The Hustle Never Stops

While Dirty and C-Man handled the streets, Boo and Jimmy worked the money.

Boo had the gift of gab. Could talk anybody into anything.

One night, he convinced a supplier to front them double what they normally got—without even showing a dollar.

And Jimmy? He never wasted a dime.

While other hustlers were blowing money on clothes, cars, and women, Jimmy was stacking.

“You don’t get rich spending money,” Jimmy always said.

And he was right. Because when the other crews started going broke, The Brothers were only getting stronger.

Black: The Shadow in the Dark

Black never had to throw the first punch. Never had to pull the first trigger.

Because by the time people realized what was happening, he was already five steps ahead.

They started calling him Black for a reason.

Because you never saw him coming.

While The Brothers handled business in the open, Black handled the pieces nobody saw.

One night, an OG from another set tried to set them up. Tried to play smart.

Black found out before it even happened.

That night, the OG never made it home.

Nobody knew how. Nobody saw who did it.

But everybody knew who was behind it.

Chapter 8: Raw Baby’s Warning

Raw Baby saw what was happening. And he didn’t like it.

One night, he pulled Black aside.

“You moving too fast,” Raw Baby said. “Too loud.”

Black smirked. “I ain’t said a word.”

Raw Baby sighed. “That’s what makes it worse.”

He wasn’t wrong.

Because by now, everybody knew The Brothers.

And when you get that much power that fast?

Somebody always comes to take it.

The summer of 1994 hit different.

Money was flowing. The Brothers were everywhere.

And Black? He was no longer just another hustler.

He was a king in the making.

The Game Changes

Bishop wasn’t just another plug—he was the biggest The Brothers had ever worked with.

And when the first shipment came in? It was different.

They weren’t just flipping ounces anymore. Now they had bricks.

And with bricks? Came real power.

Black sat at the table in the stash house, counting stacks of bills. Jimmy leaned back in his chair, watching.

“You ever think we moving too fast?” Jimmy asked.

Black smirked. “Ain’t no such thing.”

Dirty blew smoke from his cigar. “As long as we moving, we winning.”

C-Man cracked his knuckles. “And anybody in our way? Gone.”

Boo chuckled, throwing a wad of cash in the air. “Shit, look at us now.”

They weren’t just some wild young boys anymore.

They were the ones running the city.

But with power? Came enemies.

Chapter 9: Street Wars & Police Pressure

The cops weren’t blind. Bodies were dropping, and money was moving too fast.

And when the streets talk, the police listen.

Black knew they were being watched.

He saw the same unmarked car parked on different blocks. The same detectives walking through the neighborhood, asking questions.

One night, as Black and Jimmy sat outside the club, a Crown Vic rolled up.

Detective Holloway stepped out. Old-school, white, mean as hell.

He adjusted his belt, looking Black dead in the eyes.

“Y’all getting sloppy.”

Black smirked. “I don’t know what you talking about.”

Holloway laughed, shaking his head. “You think you untouchable?”

Black leaned against the Lexus. “I think you wasting your time.”

Holloway stepped closer, his voice low.

“You ain’t the first kid to think he run this city.” He nodded toward Jimmy. “And you ain’t the first crew I seen fall.”

Jimmy sipped his drink, unbothered.

Holloway smirked. “See you real soon.”

And just like that, he walked off.

Black watched him leave.

“Think he serious?” Jimmy asked.

Black exhaled. “We ain’t giving him a reason to be.”

Raw Baby’s Last Words

Raw Baby was done with the game. And he knew Black wasn’t.

One night, they met up behind an old church.

Black leaned against the fence. Waiting. Watching.

Raw Baby pulled up in an old Cutlass, stepped out, and lit a cigarette.

“You made it,” Raw Baby said. “For now.”

Black smirked. “Ain’t no ‘for now.’ We here.”

Raw Baby exhaled, shaking his head. “You don’t see it, do you?”

Black crossed his arms. “See what?”

Raw Baby pointed down the street. “I grew up right there. Used to think I had it all figured out. Then the game chewed me up and spit me out.”

Black said nothing.

Raw Baby stepped closer. “You winning right now, but trust me… this shit don’t love nobody.”

Black’s eyes didn’t waver. “Then why you still breathing?”

Raw Baby smiled. A sad, knowing smile.

“Because I got out while I still could.”

He flicked his cigarette away, turned toward his car.

Before he got in, he glanced back. “Ain’t nobody gon’ tell you twice, Black. You either figure it out… or you don’t.”

And with that, Raw Baby disappeared into the night.

Chapter 10: The Women, The Power, The Life

Black was 15 now.

And while most kids his age were still trying to impress girls in school?

Black had women everywhere.

Older women. Married women. Mothers of his old classmates.

And the crazy part? They all wanted him.

A Lexus & A Lifestyle

He pulled up to the gas station in a fresh white Lexus. Chrome rims. Music blasting.

A group of girls watched as he stepped out.

Tasha, a woman in her mid-20s, walked over. Thick, fine, grown.

“Damn, Black,” she said, eyeing him up and down. “You 15 going on 30.”

Black smirked, sliding cash to the gas clerk.

Tasha leaned in. “Still messing with them older women?”

Black chuckled. “They still messing with me.”

She bit her lip. “Maybe I need to see what the hype is about.”

Black met her gaze. Smooth. Cold. Dangerous.

“You got my number.”

And just like that? She was his.

Mothers of Old Classmates

One night, he was in the back of a club, sipping on Hennessy when he saw her—Miss Laverne.

His homeboy Marcus’ mother.

She was fine. Grown. A businesswoman.

She walked over, a playful smile on her lips.

“Boy, what you doing in here?”

Black smirked. “Same thing you doing.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “You always been too smooth.”

Black leaned in. “Maybe you just noticing now.”

Her eyes darkened.

That night? She was his, too.

Running the City Like a King

Black had women from West End to St. Matthews.

Some were college girls. Some were nurses.

Some had kids older than him.

But they all wanted one thing—Black.

Because he wasn’t just some street kid.

He was power.

And power is addictive.

The Double Life

During the day? He was a hustler, running the game.

At night? He was slipping into silk sheets with women twice his age.

They spoiled him.

Paid for hotels.

Bought him suits, jewelry, cologne.

Treated him like a man.

But no matter how much they gave, they could never own him.

Because Black belonged to one thing only—

The streets.

Chapter 11: Blood in the Streets

The Brothers were untouchable.

That’s what they thought.

The money was growing. The name carried weight.

But in the streets? Power breeds jealousy.

And betrayal? That’s always closer than you think.

A Snake in the Circle

It started with a missing package.

Black sat in the back of the stash house, counting stacks. Everything added up—except one thing.

“Where the fuck is the other two?” he asked, looking up.

C-Man cracked his knuckles. “You sure Bishop ain’t shorted us?”

“Nah,” Black said. “This ain’t Bishop. This is somebody close.”

Silence.

Then Dirty spoke. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

They all looked at Weezy.

Weezy had been with them since day one. Loyal. Hungry. But lately? Too flashy.

And two bricks missing? That wasn’t no coincidence.

Black leaned back. “Weezy… tell me something good.”

Weezy swallowed hard. “Man, y’all know I wouldn’t—”

C-Man moved fast. One hit. Clean to the jaw.

Weezy hit the floor. Bleeding. Scared. Stuttering.

“I—I ain’t take shit, Black!”

Black stood over him. Cold. Calm. Dangerous.

“You want to lie to me?” he asked. “To me?”

Weezy shook his head. “I swear—”

Black knelt down. Eyes locked. No emotion.

“If I find out you playing me… you gone wish I never did.”

Weezy nodded fast. “I ain’t playing you, Black. I swear on my mama.”

Black stared a little longer, then stood up. But he wasn’t convinced.

And later? The truth came out.

The Betrayal

Weezy had been selling to a rival crew—The Hounds.

That same crew The Brothers were already beefing with.

When Black found out? It was war.

They caught Weezy at a dice game.

He didn’t even see it coming.

C-Man knocked him out clean, dragged him to the back of the alley.

Dirty leaned in, whispering, “You know what happens next, right?”

Weezy was crying now. “I fucked up, man. Just let me—”

Black raised a hand. Silence.

Then he knelt down. Looked him dead in the eye.

“I told you not to play me.”

A single nod to C-Man.

Gunshot.

Weezy was gone.

No hesitation.

No remorse.

And just like that? The war officially started.

Chapter 12: The War Begins

The Hounds hit back fast.

They shot up one of Black’s spots. Three of their boys dead.

C-Man went crazy.

He started rolling through Blood neighborhoods, catching any Hounds he could.

Pull-ups. Walk-downs. Street executions.

And Dirty? He took it a step further.

He started robbing them. Hitting their stash spots.

By the time they realized what was happening?

The Hounds were broke and bleeding.

Crip Business

Word spread fast. The Brothers were now rolling Crip.

But some Crips? They wasn’t feeling it.

Especially the OGs who didn’t like outsiders stepping in.

One night, Black sat with Big Snake, an OG Crip from the West Side.

Big Snake sipped his drink, then looked at Black. “You think this shit just a game, lil’ homie?”

Black smirked. “Nah. I think it’s business.”

Big Snake chuckled. “You real cocky for a young nigga.”

Black leaned forward. “I’m rich for a young nigga.”

Silence.

Big Snake nodded slowly. He respected it.

And with that? The Brothers were official.

But C-Man didn’t care.

He kept beating Bloods, robbing them, taking everything.

And Black? He was playing a different game.

Because while The Brothers were beefing with Bloods?

Black was making friends.

Playing Both Sides

Black wasn’t stupid.

He knew how the streets worked.

And he knew war didn’t last forever.

So while C-Man and Dirty were terrorizing Blood neighborhoods?

Black was meeting with their shot-callers.

Keeping things balanced. Setting up side deals.

One night, he met with Mitch—one of the Blood OGs.

Mitch shook his head, lighting a blunt. “Yo lil’ brother wild as hell.”

Black smirked. “He’s just keeping y’all on y’all toes.”

Mitch laughed. “Man, y’all need to chill with that shit.”

Black exhaled. “What you offering?”

Mitch leaned in. “A truce.”

Black nodded. The streets ain’t never quiet for long.

And in the background? He was planning something bigger.

Because now?

It was time for a real come-up.

Chapter 13: The Bank Heist

Black had met her at a lounge—Ms. Patrice.

Thirty-five. Sexy. Smart. Worked at the bank.

And more importantly? She wanted Black bad.

One night, he leaned in close, whispering, “What you think about fast money?”

She bit her lip. “I think I like it.”

And just like that? The plan was set.

The Setup:

Patrice would give them access to the security codes.

The Brothers would hit the bank at night.

No loud moves. No dumb shit. Just in and out.

The Risk?

If this went bad?

It wasn’t just street shit no more.

This was fed time.

But Black wasn’t scared.

Because in his mind?

He was already untouchable.

Chapter 14: The Heist

The Setup

Black sat in the back of the cream-colored Lexus SC400, the leather cool against his skin. The night air was thick, humid—the kind that made you sweat even when you weren’t moving.

His Rolex glinted under the dim glow of the streetlights. 16 years old and already living like a millionaire. Money came easy now. But this? This was different.

This wasn’t the streets. This wasn’t a robbery in some alley. This was a bank.

And if they pulled this off? He’d never have to touch street money again.

Inside Woman

Ms. Patrice was everything.

Thirty-five, fine as hell, and hooked on Black like a drug. She worked at the bank, handling security clearance for the night shift.

It started in the bedroom. Whispers between moans.

Then one night, she leaned in, biting her lip.

“You ever think about something bigger?”

Black smirked. “How big?”

She told him about the bank. The layout. The cameras. The security gaps.

She wasn’t just talking. She wanted in.

The Plan

1. Patrice would disable the security alarms from the inside at exactly 2:15 AM during her overnight shift.

2. The crew would enter through the staff exit, unlocked for exactly 60 seconds.

3. Patrice had access to the vault codes, but a fail-safe required them to work fast—once the vault opened, they had 7 minutes before silent alarms triggered.

4. No masks until inside. No guns unless absolutely necessary. Smooth. Silent. Precise.

Failure meant federal time.

No second chances.

The Crew

Black didn’t bring just anybody. This had to be perfect.

Dirty – The muscle. Young, reckless, but cold-blooded when needed.

C-Man – The enforcer. Could crack a safe or a skull.

Boo – Fast hands. Get in, get out.

Jimmy – The driver. No police car could catch him.

Patrice – The inside connection.

Five-man team. No weak links.

Game Time

2:10 AM

Black pulled up a block away. The Lexus hummed, barely making a sound.

Jimmy cut the lights. They waited.

Inside, Patrice moved like clockwork. Security systems—off. Cameras—looped. Exit door—unlocked.

2:15 AM

Go.

Chapter 14: The Entry

They moved like shadows. No words. No hesitation.

Through the staff entrance. Silent. Precise.

Patrice stood there, heart pounding. Her eyes met Black’s.

“You sure about this?” she whispered.

Black just smirked. “Too late to be nervous now, baby.”

She handed him a keycard. “Vault’s this way.”

The Vault

The hallway smelled like fresh ink and cold steel. The scent of money.

Black swiped the keycard. Beep.

C-Man punched in the codes. One mistake and the silent alarm would trip early.

First digit. Click.

Second digit. Click.

Third digit… pause.

“Hurry the fuck up,” Dirty whispered.

C-Man exhaled. Fourth digit—Click.

Green light. The vault door groaned open.

Inside?

More money than they’d ever seen.

Stacks. Bundles. Hundreds of thousands.

The Clock is Ticking

7 minutes.

Bags came out. They worked fast.

Black moved with precision. No loose bills. No wasted time.

Patrice stood by the door, biting her nails. “We gotta go. Now.”

1 minute left.

Then… a noise.

A shuffle. Something moved in the dark.

“Who’s there?” Patrice’s voice shook.

Then—a flashlight.

The Night Guard

The old man stood there. Terrified.

Gun in his shaking hands.

“Y’all better put that shit down,” he stammered.

Silence.

Black stepped forward, slow. No sudden moves.

“You don’t wanna do this, old man.”

The guard swallowed hard. Sweat on his forehead.

Black could see it in his eyes. He didn’t wanna shoot.

But Dirty did.

BOOM.

Gunshot. The guard dropped. Blood pooled.

Patrice screamed. “What the fuck?!”

Black turned on Dirty. “The fuck is wrong with you?!”

Dirty just wiped his gun. “Nigga had a gun. Now he don’t.”

The alarms triggered early.

Time was up.

They ran.

Bags full. Hearts racing.

Jimmy already had the car running.

Tires screeched. Sirens in the distance.

They weren’t caught. Not yet.

But this wasn’t over.

Somebody was going to pay for that body.