The Cartel 4: Diamonds Are Forever (20 page)

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Authors: Ashley,JaQuavis

BOOK: The Cartel 4: Diamonds Are Forever
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Chapter 22
“The massacre reminded her of her father’s funeral.”
—Unknown
 
Leena sat at the vanity mirror and Breeze stood directly behind her, admiring her beauty.
“You are beautiful,” Breeze said as she looked at Leena, who was dolled up and looking glamorous. It was the day of Leena and Monroe’s wedding. The sun shone beautifully and was the making of a fairytale day for Leena. Breeze stroke her hair and smiled at her, giving her approval.
“Are you ready for this big step?” Breeze asked as genuine joy was in her heart for her brother and his soon-to-be wife.
“Yes. I am,” Leena said and smiled at Breeze. Just as the words came out of her mouth, they were interrupted. Little Monroe came running into the room with his tuxedo on, looking more like his father than ever. Breeze grabbed him up playfully and kissed him on the cheek.
“Where you think you going, li’l man?” she asked as she beamed from ear to ear. He playfully laughed, and she put him back down and began to fix his bowtie. “You look so handsome, Mr. Diamond,” she added. When she looked at little Monroe, she not only saw the resemblance with big Monroe; she saw all of the three men she lost: her father, Mecca, and Monroe. The realization that her whole family had crumbled hit her. She felt the tears begin to build in her eyes, thinking about what the Diamond family had endured.
The sound of a car horn blew, and all of their attention immediately went to the window and snapped Breeze out of her sad thoughts.
Breeze looked out of the window and saw that the car service had arrived. “Okay, it’s time to go,” Breeze said as she looked at Leena. Leena took a nervous, deep breath and returned the smile.
“I’m ready,” she said. With that, they left to head to the wedding.
A tall, well-built driver with a suit and shades waited by the car, the back door open for them. Breeze held the back of Leena’s dress to prevent it from dragging on the ground, and Leena had little Monroe in her arms as they made their way to the car. They got into the SUV and headed to the site of the big wedding.
Monroe fixed his bowtie in the mirror as his goons stood around him. His black-on-black tuxedo was tailor fit, and it flawlessly hung on his shoulders. He looked sharp, resembling a black James Bond, but even more debonair.
Monroe looked around, and it hit him like a ton of bricks. He was around a whole bunch of niggas who were not family. He knew they were all there because they were working for him. None of them were there on the strength of love for him. It was his wedding day, and he was surrounded by shooters rather than his brothers.
“You ready, big homie?” one of the Opa-locka goons asked.
“Yeah, just ready to get this over with,” he said as he checked his cufflinks. Just as he was doing so, Estes walked in. Monroe looked at his crew and gave them a nod, signaling them to leave the room. Almost instantly they filed out of the room, each of them greeting Estes on their way out, out of respect.
“Grandson, today is your big day,” Estes said as he walked up to Monroe and straightened up his shirt and his bowtie perfectly.
“Yeah, I can’t lie. I’m kind of nervous,” Monroe said, being truthful with his grandfather.
Estes chuckled as he rested his hand on Monroe’s shoulder to provide his support. “You know what? Years ago, your father said the same thing on the day that he married my daughter. Don’t be nervous, son. You are doing the right thing by your family and stepping up to the plate as a man—an honorable man. I just wish your mother and father were here to see you today. They would have been so proud of you today,” Estes lectured as he released a rare smile.
“I know that they would have,” Monroe said as he returned the smile. “I love you, Grandfather,” Monroe said. The two men embraced, and Monroe heard the music begin playing to serenade the few guests who attended the wedding. “I guess that’s my cue,” Monroe said as he looked back toward the door.
“Let’s go,” Estes said as he put his arm around Monroe.
They both headed to the front of the ceremony where the priest was waiting. Abruptly, Estes went to the back, having to take a leak before the ceremony started.
“Wait. Isn’t the wedding that way?” Leena asked as she pointed at the southbound interstate sign.
“Yeah, you right,” Breeze said as she looked out the window, noticing that they were going the wrong way. “Excuse me, sir. You are going the wrong way. We need to be going south,” Breeze said as she yelled to the front.
It seemed as if the driver didn’t hear her, because he didn’t flinch or respond. He just acted as if she wasn’t there.
“Excuse me!” Breeze said, and rang her voice a level higher. The response was just the same . . . nothing. At this point, they knew something was wrong.
“Pull this car over right now!’ Breeze yelled as she looked on in disbelief.
The driver finally acknowledged Breeze and looked at her through the rearview mirror. “Look, ma’am, I can’t do that,” he said with a respectful tone.
“What the hell you mean, you can’t?” Leena chimed in as she was trying to figure out what was going on.
“The man who hired me gave me specific instructions. He said drive as far from the wedding as possible. Take it up with him,” the driver said, trying to get the women off of his back.
Zyir made the driving arrangements. He had a plan, and to execute it he needed Breeze out of harm’s way.
“What? My wedding starts in thirty minutes! You need to turn your ass around and get me there!” Leena yelled as she began to burn from the inside out.
The driver was following orders, but with the two women in his ear nagging him, he knew that it was smart to take them where they requested. He turned around and headed to the wedding site. Little did they know, they were walking straight into a bullet-filled melee.
The wedding setup was beautiful and elegant. It was outside, and everything was draped in white. A live band serenaded the guests, and slow jazz filled the air as a crooner began to zat flawlessly.
Zyir’s goons were scattered throughout the crowd, including Fly Boogie, who was trying to stay low key in the back row. He had a Tech tucked inside of his tuxedo jacket. His black shades did little to hide his identity, but at that point he didn’t care. He was just ready to get the party started. On top of the people in the audience, Zyir had shooters pretending to be waiters.
Little did Monroe know, he had walked into a big booby trap. Monroe walked up to the front of the crowd and stood next to the preacher, who held a Bible in his left hand. The wedding was scheduled to start in five minutes. Everyone was just waiting on the bride to show up . . . but Zyir had a different plan for that particular day.
Zyir also sat in the back, hoping not to get noticed before he gave the signal for hell to break loose. He wanted Monroe and his crew dead. Zyir had just put a major chess move on Monroe, and with Carter’s blessing it was about to go down.
Zyir looked across the room and nodded at Fly Boogie. That was all Fly Boogie needed to let the pandemonium begin. He stood up and whipped out the Tech that he had concealed. He instantly pointed to the whole front row and let it off, hitting four of Monroe’s goons with one sweep, Fly Boogie was getting busy.
Just as planned, Zyir’s other shooters pulled out their guns and began hitting anybody who didn’t come in with them. The sounds of thundering blast and bullets whizzing filled the air, and the place went into a complete frenzy.
Monroe ducked down and immediately looked for Estes. However, it was pointless, because Zyir had locked him in the restroom, not wanting to bring any more pain to Breeze’s heart. He opted not to kill the grandfather, but everyone else was fair game. He came there on that day for blood, and he was not taking any shorts.
Zyir immediately began to let off shots at Monroe, trying to take his head off. Monroe, never slipping, reached and grabbed the small-caliber gun from the inside pocket of his tux and began to bust back as he took cover.
The massacre had begun as the bodies began to drop and bleed. Zyir’s crew and Monroe’s were trading bullets, and it was a complete war zone.
Throughout all of the chaos, Monroe and Zyir were busting shots at each other, trying to kill one another. In the meantime, bodies were dropping like flies. The pastor even caught a stray bullet to the abdomen as the two sides went all out against each other.
The shootout went on for seven minutes straight as the killers tried to kill the killers. The gunfire gradually thinned out, and only two guns were being shot—Monroe’s and Zyir’s. They traded bullets with each other, neither of them hitting anything. Zyir used the corner of the outhouse as a shield, while Monroe ducked behind the stage and used that as his fort. They were trying to take each other’s heads off.
Zyir looked around and saw all of the dead bodies. Some of his soldiers were dead, and some of Monroe’s were too. He saw Fly Boogie hiding behind a tree with his gun close to his chest. Zyir looked over and they made eye contact. Fly Boogie signaled that he had no more bullets, and Zyir nodded his head and signaled for him to stay put.
Zyir looked at his gun, which was jammed back, and realized that he had run out of bullets. He was a sitting duck at that point, and it would be damn near impossible for him to escape without someone covering him. Zyir, out of pure adrenaline, stepped out in the open with his arms out.
“Monroe!” he yelled. “Bring yo’ bitch ass out right now!” Zyir was now in the middle of the floor, stepping in between all of the dead bodies. Just as he figured, Monroe popped up with his gun drawn. He knew that Monroe’s ego wouldn’t let him stay hidden behind the stage.
Zyir racked his gun back and made it seem as if he had more ammunition, but he was taking his chances bluffing. Monroe and Zyir slowly walked toward each other, meeting in the middle of the floor. They both had their guns pointed at each other, both of them out of bullets while trying to bluff the other. As they both looked down the barrel of a gun, so much hatred was in their hearts as they stared intensely at the man who stood before them.
“You come in here on my wedding day trying to kill me?” Monroe asked through his clenched teeth. He was burning with anger toward Zyir for having the audacity.
“Yeah, and I’m not done yet,” Zyir said smoothly as he gripped his gun tightly and returned the screw-face toward Monroe.

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