by Ashley
Carter shook his head. It was the first time in his life that he didn’t know what to do. Usually he was calculating and sure in his ability to solve a problem, but in this situation he came up clueless. He watched his two brothers draw a line in the sand. It was at a point of no return. Guns had been drawn, threats had been made, truth had been revealed. Finally Carter spoke.
“This is my home, Zyir,” he said.
“Another time and place then,” Zyir sneered as he pushed Monroe away and backed down, keeping his gun in his hand, however. “Pussy-ass nigga.”
Monroe chuckled as he adjusted his collar. “I tried to give you a chance on the strength of Carter, but you refuse to step down. Either you standing with me or against me, and anybody standing next to you can get it too,” Monroe stated harshly. He looked at Carter. “You love my enemy, you become my enemy. So make your choice, brother. It’s me or your man.”
Carter was silent, but it was all the answer that Monroe needed. He wanted no indecisive players on his team.
“Then watch me burn The Cartel to the ground,” Monroe said, his voice so full of hatred that it sent chills down Carter’s spine. Monroe stormed out of the house and headed toward the cars that were lined up in front of Carter’s home. He had already anticipated this feud, and his young wolves were just waiting for the orders. They sat curbside outside of Carter’s mansion, guns loaded, eager to follow Monroe’s lead. Monroe climbed into the first car and pulled out his phone to place a call.
“Light that mu’fucka up,” he ordered.
He nodded his head for his goon to drive off and then listened as the carful of goons behind him unloaded their automatic assault rifles on Carter’s mansion.
Bullets broke through every window as glass shattered everywhere and Zyir and Carter hit the floor.
“Get down!” Zyir yelled as he went to the window to try to bust back. He watched as Monroe’s goons got into their cars and pulled off recklessly. He looked back at Carter bewildered.
“Miamor,” he whispered. “Miamor!” Carter stood to his feet and ran toward the dining room. He sighed in relief as he saw her rising from the floor.
“Are you hit?” he asked as he patted her entire body, fearing the worst.
“I’m okay,” she replied.
Zyir came into the room.
“I knew that he didn’t mean it. I could see it in his eyes,” Miamor said. “Money doesn’t want to forgive, Carter. He wants war.”
“Then that’s what the nigga gon’ get,” Zyir interrupted.
Carter nodded his head, but his heart broke inside. He was caught in the middle of two men he would lay down his life for. He wished they could become one large circle of power, but Monroe couldn’t see past his own ego trip. His jealousy had caused him to cross those who loved him. Carter knew what he had to do.
“Take care of him, but keep Breeze out of it,” Carter replied.
“With pleasure,” Zyir replied.
Chapter 14
“You are a part of our family now, Miamor.
There are no more secrets.”
—Carter
Miamor waited for hours for Carter to come to bed, but he never showed. Minutes turned to hours and her eyes grew heavy. She thought of going to him, but knew that if he wanted her company he would have sought it. So she gave him space, giving him time to think as she hugged a pillow to her lonely body. She stared at the red numbers on the clock.
3:45 A.M.
She wished that he would talk to her, that he would confide in her. Carter undoubtedly had a lot on his mind, but so did she. She wanted to comfort him and in return to have his comfort.
She closed her eyes, giving into the exhaustion just as he walked into the room. The silhouette of her body could be seen from the doorway, and her light snores told him that she was asleep. He had brought her into his life thinking that they could settle down, when in actuality things were out of control. He crawled into bed beside her. The weight of him caused the bed to shift slightly, announcing his presence. Miamor turned to face him.
“Hey, stranger,” she said.
“So you’re having my baby, huh?” he asked.
“I am,” she whispered. She touched his face and ran her thumb across his bushy eyebrows, taming them. She wondered what a child between the two of them would look like. “Is that a good thing?” she asked.
“That’s the best thing, ma,” he replied. “You are the only thing in my life that makes sense right now. How long have you known?”
“I suspected it in Rio. I was nauseated the morning after our big night. When we came back home I took a test. Needless to say it was positive,” Miamor replied.
“You’ll have the best of everything. The best doctors, the best insurance, the best care. I’ll have Breeze help you with the arrangements,” Carter said.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Carter,” Miamor replied hesitantly. After all the admissions of guilt Miamor just knew that Breeze would resent her.
“You are a part of our family now, Miamor. There are no more secrets. It will take time to heal all of our wounds, but this baby will bond the two of you. I know my sister. She has a very forgiving soul. She will do all that she can to help you bring her nephew into the world,” Carter promised.
“Nephew, huh? How do you know it’s not a girl?” she asked with a smirk.
“I make boys, ma . . . kings,” he answered with a charming wink as he rolled on top of her. He kissed her passionately and slowly made his way south. He put her to sleep with an earth-shattering orgasm as the sun rose into the sky.
* * *
The atmosphere was unusually tense between Zyir and Breeze. He hadn’t spoken a word to her since he returned from Carter’s. She lay with her back against the headboard as she watched him put on his clothes. “Zy,” she said, breaking the silence. “What happened after I left last night?”
He didn’t look her way as he grabbed his presidential Rolex off the dresser and slid it onto his wrist.
“I know something happened. What are you keeping from me?” she asked.
“Nothing, B, nothing happened,” Zyir replied.
She heard the stress in his tone and knew that he was lying, but she didn’t press the issue. When he was ready to talk to her about it he would. Zyir was her best friend, and there wasn’t much that he kept from her. So she knew that once it became needed for her to know, then she would. Until then she dropped it. She rose from the bed; her silk Donna Karan pajamas hugged her slim frame.
“Well, whatever is bothering you, I hope it gets better,” she said as she kissed his lips.
“I’m gonna go prepare breakfast,” she said as she exited their bedroom.
Zyir sighed, his heart heavy as he sat on the edge of the bed. Beefing with Monroe was a lose/lose for him. If he murdered him, then he would break Breeze’s heart, and if he let him live, then Monroe’s jealousy would eventually be Zyir’s downfall. He knew what had to be done; he just hated that it had come to this. There was enough money for everybody to eat, but Monroe wanted fame—or rather, infamy. He wanted to be the boss in an organization where one was not needed. So instead of getting to the money, they were embarking on war. A war between brothers—one that no matter who was left standing, everybody would lose.
* * *
Breeze sat in the middle of the crowded restaurant waiting patiently for Miamor to arrive. Accepting the woman who had torn her family apart was not an easy thing to do, but off the strength of Carter she was willing to try. The apparent bond that Miamor and Carter shared was deep, and Breeze knew that forgiving Miamor was the only option as long as she held the key to her brother’s heart.
She sipped a mimosa as she looked around Breezes. She had owned the restaurant for years, and it was the only business that she made sure to maintain after her father’s demise. He had purchased it for her, and Breeze felt like it was the only piece of him that she had left. It had survived through two wars, and Breeze smiled as she watched the bu
sy patrons fraternizing around her establishment.
She smiled slightly as her mind drifted to better days, when adversaries and disloyalty didn’t exist in her world. Now her world was corrupted. She sat toward the doors in public places to see who was coming and going. She felt wary at traffic lights when sandwiched between two cars. She carried a small handgun in the bottom of her handbag just in case she should need it. Breeze no longer lived under the veil of safety that her kingpin father had provided for her. She lived in a constant state of awareness at the fact that she now played her mother’s role. She was the kingpin’s wife.
She wondered if Taryn had ever felt so overwhelmed by her position. Her mother made life look so glamorous and effortless when she was alive. Breeze had no idea how her mother had pulled it off, but she hoped to learn to wear her crown just as gracefully.
Miamor walked through the door and Breeze’s back stiffened. She scanned her enemy from head to toe. Breeze quickly saw Carter’s money dripping off of Miamor. Not many women could rival Breeze’s fashion sense, but Miamor proved to be a contender with the most expensive pair of Jimmy Choo heels from the upcoming fall collection gracing her feet. The Chanel bandage dress she wore showed every curve of her body, and Breeze gave the nod of approval in her head. Miamor was wearing Carter’s money well, that was for sure. She watched Miamor scan the crowd and take a deep breath as she finally spotted her. She tried to approach, but was halted by two large bodyguards who sat discreetly at the table beside Breeze’s. She was taking no chances. Breeze had done her research on Carter’s new girlfriend, and after having experienced so much destruction at her hands, she decided to move accordingly. Breeze sat as her bodyguard intercepted Miamor.
“Check her,” Breeze said.
The bodyguards patted Miamor down and took a look inside her bag before allowing her access to Breeze.
“Have a seat,” Breeze said as she motioned for the chair across from her.
Miamor rolled her eyes at Breeze’s security measures then took her place at the table.
“I have to admit that I was surprised when I got your phone call,” Miamor said.
“You’re pregnant with my brother’s child. I love Carter and I don’t want to lose him. So we may as well get better acquainted,” Breeze answered.
Her tone was chillier than Miamor appreciated. Usually Miamor took attitude from no one, but she knew that Breeze had earned the right to be displeased with her. She gave her a pass knowing that it was in her best interest to repair her relationship with the youngest member of the Diamond clan.
Miamor could teach Breeze a thing or two. If Miamor wanted to touch Breeze, the big bodyguards could have done nothing to stop her. Her girls would have had the scope on him before he could even check her Birkin.
Miamor motioned for one of the bodyguards to approach her. He leaned down toward her.
“You need to patrol the perimeter of the restaurant. Secure the inside before Breeze arrives and then put one at both entrances. If someone wants to get at her, by the time they get this close it’s too late. They shouldn’t even make it through the door,” Miamor schooled.
The men looked toward Breeze for confirmation. She peered curiously at Miamor and then nodded her approval.
“Tips you picked up in your line of work?” Breeze commented snidely.
Miamor sighed and folded her hands across the table as she looked Breeze square in the eyes.
“I’m not in that life anymore, Breeze. I know you have a lot to hate me for, but I truly hope that we can be civil. I’m not perfect and I have a lot of skeletons in my closet. What I’ve done to you isn’t half of the bad things that I’ve done, but targeting you and your family is my biggest regret. I love Carter, Breeze, and he loves you. I want us to get to a point where we can call ourselves acquaintances,” Miamor said, hoping to establish an understanding with Breeze. She would love for things to be all rainbows and flowers with Breeze, but she wasn’t naïve. Breeze would need time to get over all of Miamor’s past transgressions.
Breeze was silent for a moment as she tapped the bottom of her champagne flute with her blue manicured nail. Miamor couldn’t read her, and she smiled at the fact that Breeze Diamond had grown up. She wasn’t as green as she had been upon the very first meeting. Life had caused her to transform from a girl into a beautiful young woman, with limitless power in her hands.
“Have you chosen a doctor yet?” Breeze asked out of the blue.
Miamor shook her head. “Carter suggested that I ask you to help with that,” Miamor said.
“You’ll meet with our family doctor. I’ll make the arrangements for you,” Breeze offered. “I can’t help but be excited about your pregnancy. This family needs some new blood in it. Maybe a child can restore the purity in our lives.”
Breeze beckoned for the waitress and then said, “And just so you know, I forgive you. We don’t have to discuss anything that has happened in the past ever again. As long as you make Carter happy, then I’m happy. Treat him well.”
Miamor nodded. She was grateful for Breeze’s kind heart. There was no way that Miamor could have done the same if the shoe was on the other foot. “I will. And thank you.”
“It’s nothing,” Breeze responded. A huge smile spread across her lips. “Now let’s talk baby names.”
Chapter 15
“It was like Mecca’s ghost
flew into that nigga.”
—Fly Boogie
Monroe took to the streets the way a duck took to water, and he made no apologies for his brute way of ruling. He had already set up shop in all of The Cartel’s most profitable territories, but instead of sharing blocks, he was taking them over. Monroe pulled up to Zyir’s most profitable trap and exited the car with his goon squad in tow. Fly Boogie stood up and saluted Monroe.
“What’s good, boy?” he greeted.
Monroe was stone faced as he removed his gun from his waistline and popped Fly Boogie without remorse. The young kid folded like a lawn chair as the hot lead fired from Monroe’s gun filled his belly. Monroe was on some terminating shit. Anyone who rocked with Zyir was a threat and on his list to be laid down.
He ascended the steps and knocked on the door in the rhythm that allowed him entry. His goons stood on the sides of the door, out of the view of anyone who looked out of the peephole. When they saw that it was Monroe, he was given access and welcomed inside, but when they saw the niggas with burners who came in after him they quickly regretted the decision.
Gunfire erupted, and a complete massacre occurred as Monroe stood and watched his team put in work. They were so thorough they only delivered head shots. No vest in the world could protect against a hollow to the dome, and that’s what he trained his mob to deliver. All five men in the trap were executed, and the cook-up queens were tied up ass naked. Monroe smoked a cigar, enjoying the feel of the smoke in his lungs as he paced up and down the line of women. They squirmed and cried as they tried to free themselves from their constraints. As he paced, he poured gasoline from the can in his hand. The stench of the liquid filled the room as he doused the women.
“This is the price you pay when you work for Zyir,” Monroe stated. He handed the gas can off to one of his goons and then pulled the cigar from his mouth. He looked at it as he blew a cloud of smoke from his mouth, and then he flicked the cigar onto the line of women. Flames instantly erupted and howls of immeasurable pain sounded out in the apartment.
“Let’s go,” Monroe ordered. He noticed that his squad had bagged up the money and the product that they had found in the spot. Monroe stopped them. “It’s not about the money. Leave that shit here.”
He took one last look at the destruction that he had caused before he walked out, leaving a pile of ash where Zyir’s number one money spot used to be.
* * *
“Yo’ man Money is on some other shit,” Fly Boogie stated as he lay in the hospital bed with a colonoscopy bag attached to his stomach. “The nigga might as well have killed me, bro! I c
an’t get no pussy carrying around this fucking shit bag.”
Zyir smirked at the young kid’s sense of humor at a crucial time like this.
“The nigga burnt the shit to the ground like it was nothing. Had hoes screaming for they lives, ya feel me? I can still smell the bodies, fam. On some real shit, it was like Mecca’s ghost flew into that nigga. The streets ain’t seen a massacre like that since Mecca.”
Zyir saw red as he listened to Fly Boogie tell his version of what had gone down. Monroe had taken their beef public by personally attacking The Cartel. Usually the one to strike first, Zyir kicked himself for hesitating. He had wanted to handle Monroe accordingly, seeing as how his demise would crush Breeze, but Money wasn’t holding any punches. He was forcing Zyir’s hand, and now they were on some gangster shit.
“You ready to put in some work? I need you on the team so I can see firsthand some of the stories I been hearing about you,” Zyir said. “Your murder game proper?”
“No doubt, big homie, my shit’s official. Only reason these niggas caught me slipping is because I thought my man was family. Won’t happen again, I’ll tell you that,” Fly Boogie stated with venom lacing his tone.
“A’ight, rest up. You’re gonna need it. And hold on to that for me,” Zyir said as he slyly passed Fly Boogie a burner.
“Good looking, bro. I felt naked than a muuuu’fucka without my joint,” Fly Boogie replied. “Holla at me though. Whatever you need done, I got it. I’m about that work.”
Zyir nodded and then made his exit. The two goons he had posted outside the door followed him out as he headed to see Carter; all the while murder plots played in his head.
Chapter 16
“She’s not to be underestimated.”
—Monroe
“You niggas ready to make a name for yourselves, right?” Monroe asked as he sat at the table with three youngsters. He had recruited them from Opa-locka for a specific job and they all were hungry live wires. They were the type of goons who killed for nothing. They were looking for a come up, so when Monroe knocked on the door with an opportunity, they were ecstatic.