The Cartel 4: Diamonds Are Forever (18 page)

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Authors: Ashley,JaQuavis

BOOK: The Cartel 4: Diamonds Are Forever
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Carter fingered the trigger.
“No! Brother! I swear on everything it wasn’t me. My little niggas were all set to go when somebody pulled up in black SUVs and did the job for us,” Monroe said, the words spilling out of his mouth as sweat shone on his forehead.
“Who?” Carter barked.
“I don’t know! All I know is that it wasn’t me! Now please let your nephew and Leena go!”
Carter heard the sincerity in his words and he withdrew his gun. He knew that Monroe would never gamble with the lives of those he loved, especially the son he was just getting to know.
He’s not behind this,
Carter thought as a new confusion swept over him. He had no other enemies. Who would make such a bold move against him?
Carter stepped away from a sobbing Leena and walked up to Monroe, who now stood on his feet. They stood toe to toe as they stared each other in the eyes.
“If you’re lying, Money . . .”
“I’m not,” Monroe responded. “Now get the fuck out of my house.”
Monroe rushed over to his family as Carter stormed out.
Carter sat with the newspaper in front of him, staring at the dead faces of Monroe’s security guards and the owner of the security company that employed them. Carter knew that Monroe had executed them for not protecting his home. The moment Carter stepped foot on his soil, the guards’ lives had been put on a countdown. Carter didn’t flinch or feel a sliver of remorse. As long as Miamor was missing, he didn’t care how many people lost their lives in his persistent search to find her.
His bell rang, and one of his goons stood, instinctively placing a hand near his waist. Carter checked one of several monitors that were positioned discreetly around his mansion.
“Let her in,” he said as he recognized Leena’s face.
He stood and awaited her presence as she was given access to his mansion. She was the vision of beauty standing before him. Her flower-printed Prada dress flowed serenely behind her as she walked toward him while her heels clicked the floor. She stood across the room, twiddling her hands in front of her with worry written all over her face.
“I’m sorry it didn’t work, Carter. I tried to make it look as real as possible, but your bastard brother would rather hold his secrets than to tell the truth to save me and his son,” Leena said, her eyes watering. Carter would never put her or his nephew in harm’s way. The clip wasn’t even in the gun the night before when he held her at gunpoint to get Money’s cooperation. “In one sentence he says he loves us, but when faced with a chance to prove it . . .”
“He loves you, Leena,” Carter interrupted. “He wasn’t lying. He doesn’t have Miamor,” Carter said. “This I’m sure of.”
His words silenced her, and she looked down unsurely. “How can you be so sure?”
“I know my brother,” Carter answered solemnly.
Leena had been around Carter long enough to see that he was hurting. His spirit was broken, and she could see the emotions taking a toll on him.
“She will be all right,” Leena said, only half believing her words.
“Will she?” Carter replied.
Leena reached up and hugged Carter, planting a sisterly kiss on his cheek. “I have to get back. I’m not even supposed to be here. I told Monroe that I wouldn’t leave the house, and the baby is with the nanny. I wish this war between you and your brother would end. I miss my family.”
Carter kissed her forehead but didn’t respond as he turned and walked out of the room.
Chapter 19
“What’s a ring without a wedding?”
—Leena
 
Leena walked softly on the plush carpet as she approached Monroe’s office. His door was wide open, and she stood there watching him nervously as she wrung her fingers in front of her body. He was intent, focused, powerful, and the most beautiful specimen of a man she had ever seen. Her heart thumped and she was overwhelmed with admiration every time she stood before him. He looked down at the paperwork before him, but was always aware of those around him. He sensed her presence the moment she had crept up.
“Come in here, beautiful,” he said as he looked up from his busy work and sat back in his plush leather executive chair.
Leena walked in and rounded his desk until she stood directly between his legs.
“What’s on your mind?” he asked her.
“That’s what I’ve been wondering about you,” she replied.
“Don’t mince words, Lee. Tell me what’s wrong, baby,” he said.
“I miss Breeze and Carter and Zyir. Money, they’re our family and this beef, this war, it’s eating me up. It’s not supposed to be like this,” Leena said as she touched Monroe’s face gently, making sure that he was looking her in the eyes. She needed him to feel the sincerity in her words. “Monroe misses his uncles, baby. They’re all he knows.”
Money’s jaw tensed, but his temper didn’t flare. Leena was his everything. He wished that his comeback could have been one big family reunion. He remembered the days of peace and unity within the Diamond clan, but it seemed that those times had died right along with his father, Carter Diamond. Maybe if Monroe had never gone away, then he could accept Zyir as family. He would have been around to see the love and loyalty that Zyir had proven time and time again. But as it stood, Monroe felt that Zyir was trying to take his place.
Monroe refused to feel like an outsider in his own organization, so he had built his own. The Opa-locka Money Gang showed him all the loyalty that a king deserved. The streets were eating his product up and no one, not even Zyir with all of his Cartel affiliation, could compete. If you weren’t seated at Monroe’s table then you didn’t eat. He wasn’t saving any sea bass for niggas who didn’t rock with O.M.G.
“I need you to be like a chameleon, Leena. You have to be able to adapt to your surroundings. There are no guarantees in this lifestyle, Lee. The only thing that I can promise is that I will love you. I will love you until my body hits the dirt, and I will provide for you. You will be safe and we’ll live life as long as God and the law lets me. The faces that surround us may change, and I need you to get used to that. Don’t get too attached to anyone, because at any moment disloyalty can make them replaceable.” Money pointed to his chest and then pointed to hers. “This is our family. You, me, and our son . . . we’re all we got, and that’s all you need.” He lifted her left finger and admired the flawless stone that he had placed on it. “That’s why I gave you this.”
“What’s a ring without a wedding?” she asked sadly. “With everything that’s going on, when will we have time to get married?”
“We’ll make time, Lee. We can do it whenever you want. In fact, planning a wedding will keep you occupied. We can do it tomorrow if you want,” Monroe said with a charming smile.
Leena smiled. “I need a little more time than that,” she answered wistfully as she began to daydream about colors and floral arrangements.
“There’s my girl,” Monroe said with a wink.
“How about a month. I can get with a wedding planner and it can be small and intimate. Maybe I can invite Breeze?” Leena said.
Monroe missed his sister, but in his attempt to keep the beef hidden from her, he had barely seen or reached out. She was a sensitive subject, and Leena could see the wheels in his head turning as he considered the possibility.
“How about two weeks?” he suggested as he kissed her nose.
Leena leaned back and wrinkled her brow. “What’s the rush? What aren’t you telling me?” she asked. It was unlike Monroe to jump so quickly into commitment, and she knew that there had to be an ulterior motive behind this sudden rush to matrimony.
“I want you to be my wife, Leena. I want you and my son to be secure. We’re at war, and if something happens to me, I need to know that you’re entitled to everything I have,” Monroe said honestly. “It’s important that I leave you with the world at your feet.”
“Seems like we’re planning your funeral, Money . . . not our wedding,” she whispered. Leena rose from his lap and walked toward the door.
Monroe didn’t want to hurt her feelings or diminish her excitement, but he didn’t want to lie to her. She could have the romantic side of things. His love for her was very real, but he knew that with street fame came the possibility of death. He just wanted her to be prepared for it, and as his wife, she would be.
Dear Carter,
 
I’m writing you this letter to let you know that I’m safe. I staged an entire kidnapping to run away from you. It was all fake. I didn’t know how to tell you that I wanted out, and the entire setup just went too far. I hear that you’re looking for me, that you’ve killed trying to find me. I want you to stop. I chose to leave you, Carter. No one forced me to. I walked away. I was suffocating in your world, and I can’t go through life pretending that I am someone I’m not. I’m never coming back to you. Having your child would have been the biggest mistake I’ve ever made. I got an abortion, Carter. We’re too different, and at the end of the day you’re my enemy and your people took my sister from me. I’ve disappeared before, but this time I promise I won’t return. Move on, because I have. We’re just not meant to be.
 
Miamor
The words on the paper knocked Carter off of his feet, and he slowly sat down on his couch and lowered his head.
I trusted you,
he thought as he felt his heart splitting painfully in half. The earth felt as if it had stopped spinning. He loosened his Gucci slim tie as if it would help him breathe, but he was still stifled. He couldn’t inhale. Miamor had just pulled the rug from beneath him, and he was falling into an emotional black hole. She had done it once before, and now he kicked himself for even giving her a second chance. He had supplied her with the hope to better herself, but instead she had slipped a noose around his neck and sent him flying off of a chair.
“Magdalena!” he called as he stood to his feet.
“Yes, Mr. Jones,” his housekeeper replied as she instantly appeared in front of him. The middle-aged woman stood before him in a maid’s uniform, awaiting his request.
“Please box up all of Miamor’s things. Place them in storage. She won’t be coming back,” Carter instructed. The housekeeper frowned yet nodded in compliance.
“And the baby’s things? Would you like for me to box his belongings as well?” she asked.
It was at the mention of his seed that Carter’s resolve weakened. His eyes burned, but he willed his devastation away as he replied, “No, leave the nursery exactly as it is.”
He knew that there was no more baby to plan for, but he didn’t have the strength to see the room return to a blank canvas with white walls.
Magdalena looked at him with sympathy.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Jones,” she said. She didn’t know the full story, but she could see the sadness hanging from Carter’s shoulders like coats from a rack.
“Me too,” he replied. He looked at the picture of Miamor that sat in a small frame on the mantle of his fireplace. He thought of the things that he had done for her, the people he had crossed for her, and wars that had started over her. It seemed as if he was always the one sacrificing to make them work, and still she was disloyal. He pulled the picture down and tossed it into the fire. “Me too.”
As the days passed Miamor grew resentful. She didn’t want to be with Murder. She didn’t need him in her life. His season had passed a long time ago, and he refused to accept the fact that she had moved on. His attempts at conversation were blocked by her obvious disdain for him, but he was patient. He looked at Miamor like a drug addict. She had become dependent on Carter, and he was determined to be her morphine. He was weaning her off. After the letter he had forged to him on her behalf, Carter would no longer be looking for her anyway. Little did Miamor know Murder had destroyed their bond with one little Dear John.
“You can’t just keep me here,” she said, her arms crossed as she sat across the room from him. “I’m pregnant. I need medical care. I need vitamins and checkups. I’m extremely high risk. I need to be home. Carter—”
Murder was on her in a flash, across the room, and flipping over the coffee table, clearing his path to get to her. “Don’t mention the nigga name in my presence. You lucky I’m even letting you keep that fucking baby. I’m trying real hard to keep shit cool with you, Miamor. But you’re pushing me! Shut the fuck up about that nigga. You’re here until I say it’s time to go. You’re never going back to that nigga. When you stop being fucking stubborn you’ll realize that’s what’s best for you.”
“What happened to you in there? I don’t even recognize you,” Miamor said with tears in her eyes. “Since when do you treat me like this? Since when do you talk to me like this?”
“Since you started fucking the next nigga,” Murder spat. “When you act like the old you, I’ll become the old me.”
Miamor shook her head, disgusted. It didn’t matter what Murder did. He couldn’t turn back the hands of time. She had outgrown him, plain and simple. “If I meant as much as you say I do, then you’d get me to a doctor.... You would let me go.”

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