The Cartel 4: Diamonds Are Forever (5 page)
Read The Cartel 4: Diamonds Are Forever Online
Authors: Ashley,JaQuavis
Mecca was in complete shock as he watched Leena straddle his brother. His eyes bugged out as he saw his brother rub on Leena’s behind with one hand while removing her thong with the other. “What the . . .” Mecca stammered as he looked in disbelief. He walked closer to the front glass and witnessed the treachery happening.
Money and Leena were so into one another that they didn’t notice Mecca staring at them through the large front glass. Leena’s moans could be heard from the outside as she rode Monroe with more passion than she had ever given to Mecca.
Mecca’s sadness instantly turned into rage as he reached for his gun and headed for the front door. Seconds later, bullets from Mecca’s .40-cal pistol were ripping through the front door wood. Leena scrambled to the corner of the room out of fear. She didn’t know what was going on. Money grabbed his pistol from his waist and pointed it at the door out of instinct. He saw Mecca bursting through the front door with tears in his eyes.
“Mecca!” Leena yelled as she saw the look in his eyes. She knew that their secret was out of the bag. She had gotten caught with Money red-handed.
“I can’t believe you, bitch!” Mecca screamed as he pointed his gun at Leena.
Money put away his gun and tried to calm down his brother. “Mecca, put the gun down! It’s not what it looked like,” Money tried to explain.
“It’s not what it looked like? Nigga, fuck you!” Mecca said as he pointed his gun at his brother. Mecca’s heart was broken. The two people he thought he could trust were the very ones deceiving him. Mecca pulled the hammer back on his gun and aimed it at his brother’s head. Money put both of his hands up and tried to reason with his brother. Money knew his brother very well, and when he looked in Mecca’s eyes, it was obvious that he was high as a kite.
“Bro, listen! Put the mu’fuckin’ gun down. You high! Now stop before you do something you gon’ regret,” Money pleaded.
“The only thing I regret is fuckin’ with this stankin’ ho!” Mecca yelled as he pointed his gun back at Leena. The thought of her being intimate with his brother sent him over the edge. “I hate you!” Mecca screamed as he put both of his hands on his head. His tears began to fall freely with no shame. “I loved you,” Mecca whispered just before he pointed the gun at Leena and let off two rounds. He watched as the bullets ripped through her chest and she fought for air.
“Noooo!” Money yelled as he rushed over to Leena and cradled her in his arms. “Breathe, Leena, breathe!” he instructed her as blood oozed out of her mouth. Leena fought for her dear life as she gripped Money’s hands and looked into his eyes. “Breathe, Leena!” Money screamed as he tried to keep her from slipping away. “Call an ambulance!” he yelled as he looked back at his brother. Mecca was pacing the room with both of his hands on his head.
“Oh my God. What have I done?” he whispered as he frantically continued to pace the room. He looked over at his brother and Leena and what he saw and heard broke his heart. Before she lost consciousness, Leena looked Money in the eyes and whispered, “I love you, Monroe Carter.”
A single tear slid down Money’s face and he felt Leena’s grip suddenly loosen and he knew that she was gone.
A tear fell from Mecca’s eye also, but it wasn’t one of sorrow, but a tear of rage. He just witnessed the woman he loved tell his brother that she loved him. “Her last words were that she loved you . . . not me,” he whispered as he slowly raised his gun and pointed at Money. Money ran his hand over Leena’s eyelids to close them and then he gently kissed her forehead before he turned his attention on his brother.
“Mecca, put . . . the gun . . . down,” Money instructed as he put his hands in front of him.
“You always thought you were better than me, nigga! You could have had any woman you wanted, but you had to take mines. Now look at you! Look what you made me do. Look! Papa and Ma always favored you over me,” Mecca cried as the tears fell freely down his face and his hand began to shake. He remembered what his parents used to say when he would get in trouble, and he began to mimic them. “You need to be more like Monroe . . . Monroe wouldn’t act like that.”
Mecca’s voice was shaky, and Money knew his brother was unstable. As all of his emotions boiled over, Mecca looked Money in the eyes and let off a single shot that entered the left side of his chest where his heart resided. Monroe heard the gunshot, but didn’t believe his own flesh and blood had shot him. As the burning sensation in Money’s chest settled in, Money fell to the ground and his life slowly slipped away. High out of his mind, Mecca watched as his brother lay in a puddle of his own blood . . . dying.
Estes and Taryn looked at Monroe through the clear glass and watched as he struggled for his life. They had registered him under John Doe to be cautious. They were in the middle of a war and didn’t want to take any chance. Estes held his daughter Taryn in his arms as she wept like a baby. To see her son on the hospital bed with tubes stuck down his mouth was very frightening.
“I already lost my husband to this war with the Haitians. I can’t lose my son, Papa. Please, Lord!” she pleaded as she crumbled in his arms.
Estes hated being so powerless and wished he could change the situation, but it was in God’s hands at that point. Estes wanted revenge on the Haitians badly, but at his old age he understood that he wasn’t built for war.
They watched as the doctor observed him closely and exited the room. As he entered the hallway, he headed straight to Estes and Taryn.
“I have good news and bad news for you guys,” the older Caucasian man said as he used his index finger to balance his glasses on the bridge of his nose. Estes took a deep breath and took a step forward. While one hand was still over Taryn’s shoulder, he prepared himself for whatever the doctor would say.
“The good news is that he is going to make it,” the doctor said, cutting straight to the point.
“Thank God,” Taryn whispered as she put her hand on her chest in relief.
The doctor closed his eyes as if what he was about to say hurt him to say it. “However, he has slipped into a coma,” he said.
“What? A coma?” Taryn asked as she felt her knees get weak and almost give out on her.
“How long?” Estes asked.
“That’s something we don’t know. It could be a couple hours, years, or . . . never. It all depends,” the doctor said. Estes turned to his daughter and hugged her tightly.
“I can’t do this anymore, Papa. I cannot lose my son,” she stated as she cried inconsolably.
Estes’s mind began to race. He knew that it was only the beginning of the bloodshed and heartache. He knew that the Haitians were coming for blood and would not stop until one side was completely gone. With Big Carter gone, he knew the odds were not in their favor. He, at that moment, made a decision for the sake of his bloodline.
“Monroe is dead,” he said as he grabbed Taryn by both of her shoulders and looked into her eyes.
“What?” Taryn asked confused. She looked over at Monroe through the glass and saw that he was still breathing and she didn’t understand what Estes was talking about.
“He is dead to the world, not us. I have to make a decision for the family and our bloodline. This has gone too far and it is only going to get worse. The Haitians
will not
stop until everyone in this family is destroyed. Monroe can’t defend himself, so I have to do it for him.”
will not
stop until everyone in this family is destroyed. Monroe can’t defend himself, so I have to do it for him.”
Taryn looked into her father’s eyes and saw him tearing up. She had never once in her life witnessed that from her father. A man who possessed so much power and so much strength had finally let his emotion seep out. Taryn knew that her father knew what was best for the family. With that being stated, she would keep Monroe’s status a secret until he came to. Unfortunately, that would be the last night she would ever see her son. She died at the hands of an enemy before Money’s resurrection.
Present Day
“I thought you were dead,” Breeze continued as a single tear slid down her face. She felt her knees tremble and she could not believe what she saw.
“I was in a coma for five years. I’m here, Breeze. I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered as he fought back tears. He clenched his jaws, displaying the muscles in his jaws. He then grabbed Breeze and hugged her tightly.
He looked over at Leena, who had an expressionless face. Once his secret lover, she was now the mother of his child—a child he had no idea he had up until the previous night when Estes told him everything.
He released Breeze and headed over to Young Carter. Carter stood up and couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Monroe embraced his only brother and hugged him tightly.
“I can’t believe this,” Carter said as he embraced Monroe.
“I can’t either, bro,” Monroe said. They unlocked their embrace and Carter immediately began to look into a man who resembled Mecca so closely. It was like he was seeing two ghosts in one person.
“How? I thought you were dead. I went to your funeral,” Carter asked, trying to make sense of the situation.
“He wasn’t dead while in that casket. You would be surprised of the things people overlook while in a church. Like, is the body still breathing while in a casket? People assume that everything in a church is the truth. This made the deception fairly easy,” Estes interjected. The explanation began to unravel and everyone in the room was astonished.
“We have to move forward. Enough about the past,” Monroe said as he straightened up his tie and had a look of braveness on his face. He showed no emotion at all and his backbone was as straight as an arrow. He was wearing the last name of Diamond with pride just as his father had taught him.
“A lot of things have changed while you were away,” Breeze said as she dropped her head, thinking about the death of her mother and brother Mecca. “I have something to tell you,” Breeze continued with water in her eyes. A tear was on the verge of dropping as she took a deep breath and closed her eyes.
“Breeze, I already know everything. Papa already told me everything there is to know. However, I have to stay strong for the family; just like Father taught me,” Monroe said without a flinch. He had mourned in solitude and promised himself to stay strong for Breeze and carry on The Cartel legacy with a straight back just as his father did.
Young Carter listened closely as he watched his brother display courage and strength. Monroe just dismissed the fact that his twin brother and mother had been murdered, and he was ready to jump back into the family business. Young Carter began to grow butterflies in his stomach, realizing that he would one day have to tell Monroe that he was responsible for Mecca’s death. Nevertheless, now wasn’t the time, and he was glad to have his brother back.
“Welcome back, bro. Welcome back,” Carter said as he looked into the eyes of his only blood brother left. Monroe returned the gesture with a nod and charismatic wink. Monroe was back.
Chapter 5
“It’s amazing how many peer into a casket but never check to see if the person inside is breathing.”
—Monroe
Monroe’s hands gripped the steering wheel of Carter’s BMW 745 as he made his way across town. Life seemed surreal now that he was home and reunited with his fractured family. The streets had most definitely changed, and Monroe was slowly realizing that taking over his family’s empire wouldn’t be as simple as he had anticipated. His entitlement to his father’s empire was being ignored, and Monroe knew that it would be a battle to regain his position within his own family. He would have to go get his spot, but in the meantime he would have to make some power moves independently.
He had some old business to attend to. His life had been left hanging in the air, but now that he was back it was time to settle his affairs. It was apparent that life had moved on without him and that he had missed a lot in the time that he was gone. What should have been handed down to him was placed in Zyir’s lap, and Money felt slighted. Zyir wasn’t blood. He had no right to the kingdom that his father had built from the ground up. Money wasn’t into beef, but he fully intended on taking over The Cartel. It was his destiny to head the infamous dynasty, and no matter who stood in the way he would take his place as king of Miami. It was only a matter of time.
Jamison Wildes was the most respected accountant in all of Miami. Money man to the stars, he was known for keeping everyone out of the crosshairs of the IRS. From kingpins to ball players and entertainers, his clientele were the elite of South Beach. If you were in the seven-figure gentleman’s club, then you were smart enough to be a client of Jamison Wildes.
Money had been groomed for business ever since he was a young boy. He had a knack for the money flip, and his father had made sure he taught Monroe the value of a dollar. Niggas hadn’t shortened his name to Money for nothing. He was about his paper, and there was a large sum left unclaimed when he had disappeared that he had to retrieve. He walked into the high-rise building and took the elevator to the top floor where the penthouse office suite sat overlooking the ocean. Jamison’s company occupied the entire floor, making up an impressive modern space.
When Money entered, his presence easily overpowered the room. The Italian designer suit was tailored to his medium build perfectly, and he adjusted his slim tie as he stepped toward the receptionist.
The young woman’s eyes dissected him as he approached. His handsome face and penetrating stare had her dumbfounded as she struggled to find the words to greet him.
“Umm . . . hi . . . um, do you have an appointment?” she asked.
Monroe shot the girl a charming smile and thumbed the bridge of his nose arrogantly as he said, “No, but let Jamison know that Monroe Diamond is here to see him.”
The girl picked up her phone and paged Jamison’s line, delivering Money’s message. She frowned in confusion and put her hand over the receiver.
“I’m sorry, what’s your name again? There seems to be some kind of confusion,” she said.
“Tell Jamison there’s no confusion. My name is Monroe Diamond,” he answered.
The girl removed her hand and said, “He says he’s Monroe Diamond.” Moments later she hung up the phone, giving him an uncomfortable smile and reported, “He’ll be right with you.”
A flustered Jamison emerged from the back. “Vanessa, there has to be a mistake. Monroe Diamond is—”
“Very much alive and well,” Monroe finished as he stood to his feet and extended his hand to his accountant. Jamison’s eyes widened in shock and his face turned pale. “What’s wrong, old friend? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”
Jamison finally accepted Monroe’s hand and shook it firmly. “Monroe. Forgive me, I thought . . .”
“Let’s step into your office,” Monroe said, taking control of the situation. “Vanessa, clear Jamison’s schedule for the rest of the day. We have some business to discuss.”
Monroe entered Jamison’s office and walked behind the desk to take in the beautiful ocean view. Shades of turquoise and blue filled his vision as he admired the scene. “I see business is good,” Monroe commented.
“I thought you were dead. I came to the funeral. How?” Jamison stammered as he watched Monroe take a seat behind his desk. Jamison sat in the visitor’s chair completely thrown by the ghost of yesterday’s past that had just reentered his life.
“The funeral was an illusion to trick the enemy and keep me safe. It’s amazing how many peer into a casket but never check to see if the person inside is breathing,” Monroe stated. “I’m not here to talk about that. I’m here for my money.” He leaned in and folded his hands across the Brazilian wood desk.
“The money is unavailable,” Jamison said timidly.
“Unavailable? My five million dollars that I put in your hands is unavailable?” Monroe asked. His voice was so cold that it froze Jamison in his seat. He dared not to blink or move. He could see the anger burning in Monroe’s eyes.
“I . . . I . . . thought you were dead. The money was just sitting there . . .”
“Sitting there?” Monroe questioned. “So instead of taking my money to my grieving mother you did what with it?”
“I . . . I invested . . .”
Money’s eyes turned dark. “You invested my dough?”
“There is a new pharmaceutical company that has created a new drug. It’s not FDA approved yet, but it’s only a matter of time before it happens. The money is tied up in its stock. When the FDA approval comes through I could turn five million dollars into fifty overnight,” Jamison explained nervously.
Monroe was slightly irritated that Jamison had tied up his money without his permission, but he had to admit that it was a move that he would have made himself if given the opportunity. If things went according to plan the flip on Jamison’s investment would be crazy. The potential gain didn’t help his current financial state, however. Monroe wasn’t for playing the little nigga in Carter’s camp. He didn’t need anyone trying to son him with handouts. He needed cash now.
“Open the account to your business,” Monroe instructed.
“Excuse me?” Jamison asked. “Monroe, I don’t think my company’s earnings has anything to do—”
Monroe leaned back and opened his suit jacket, giving Jamison a slight glimpse of the 9 mm he had holstered underneath. Jamison began to sweat as his body temperature rose.
“You can bring me into your business, or I can focus on how you’ve mishandled mine,” Monroe said calmly.
Jamison stood and rubbed his goatee as he walked around to the computer. He opened up his personal files, and Monroe was pleased to see that business was flourishing. Jamison was bringing in more than three million per year and had a business line of credit worth seven figures.
“Until I have that fifty million in my hands, you’ve got a new business partner and the split is sixty-forty,” Monroe said. “Is that a problem for you?”
Jamison shook his head. Monroe stood and checked the Presidential on his wrist. “I’ve got to go. I’m glad we could work this out peacefully. I’ll expect my name to be added on all the accounts by morning, and clear this office. It’s mine now. Let this be a lesson to you, Jamison. The next time you won’t touch what doesn’t belong to you.”
Monroe exited, and Jamison breathed a sigh of relief, letting out a slight whimper. He knew that things could have ended very badly for him. Sacrificing a piece of his business was a minor punishment in the grand scheme of things.
Standing at the site where her loved ones were buried caused Breeze to tremble as tears glided down her cheeks. She stood in the land of the dead. The cemetery always seemed so cold. Even if the sun was out, a coldness always overcame Breeze when she visited the resting place of her loved ones. As she stood in front of her parents’ tombstones, a cold chill ran up her spine. She was so grateful for her life and so very happy to be reunited with Monroe. Her father, her mother, and Mecca lay side by side, resting eternally. She wished that she had come from a normal family, with a blue-collar pops and a hardworking housewife. Being the child of the first family in the streets had its perks, but the downside was much worse. The violence that came with the title made Breeze yearn for regularity. “I miss you all,” she said.
Breeze turned around when she heard a car door close and smiled warmly when she saw her brother’s face. He approached her, and Breeze reached up to touch his face. “I can’t believe you’re back,” she said. “I love you so much, Money. I’m so sorry you had to come back to nothing. Things got really bad after Papa died.”
“How did Carter let this happen?” Monroe asked.
“The war with the Haitians crippled us, Money. There wasn’t much any of us could do,” Breeze whispered. Ma’tee’s face flashed in her mind and sent a shiver down her spine. She quickly shook the bad memory from her thoughts as she continued. “I come here sometimes just to talk to them. I feel like they can hear me. I almost died and I saw them. I saw you too. We were sitting at a table, all of us: me, you, Papa, Mama, Mecca.... We were happy. We were in . . .”
“Paradise,” Money finished. He knew exactly what she had seen, because he had seen it too. He was sure that there was life after death and that his family was waiting for him on the other side.
Breeze looked at him and nodded as emotion overtook her. She sniffled as she wiped her tears. “Yeah. They’re in paradise. They’re watching over us, Money,” Breeze said. “There is so much hurt in our past, now I want to bring you some joy. I want to introduce you to your future.”
“You’re talking in circles, Breeze,” Monroe said as he kissed her forehead.
“It’ll all make sense soon. There’s something you need to know.”
Leena fidgeted nervously in the mirror as her son played at her feet. Butterflies danced in her stomach. She had so many questions that she wanted to ask, but her brain didn’t work at the moment. A ball of tension and nerves, she tried to calm herself, but there was no use. She was about to see the man she loved, the twin who had stolen her heart from the very first time she met him. Their situation had always been messy. She was Mecca’s girl, but now things had changed. Mecca was gone and Leena bore Monroe’s son. A son he didn’t even know existed.
What if he doesn’t want me?
she asked herself. She gripped the edge of the vanity and lowered her head.
God, please let him want me . . . let him want us.
What if he doesn’t want me?
she asked herself. She gripped the edge of the vanity and lowered her head.
God, please let him want me . . . let him want us.
A knock at the door forced her to gain her composure, and she inhaled deeply than exhaled slowly. “Come in,” she said.
Zyir cracked open the door, and her son jumped up to run to him. Zyir’s exterior was so serious and focused, but when he interacted with Baby Monroe he always softened. Leena was grateful for men like Zyir and Carter. They had been the only male figures her son had known, and they took their roles in his life very seriously. “They’re here,” Zyir announced.
Leena nodded and ran her hands over her dress then made her way to the door. She grabbed her son from Zyir, and he gave her a reassuring nod as she walked by, headed to meet her long-lost love.
She saw him before he ever knew he had an audience. He stood just as powerful as she remembered, with his shoulders squared, hands tucked into his designer slacks as he waited patiently in the foyer. By the time he noticed her, tears were flowing down her face.
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