The Cartel Deluxe Edition, Part 2

by Ashley

  “What do you know?” Miamor asked, cutting directly to the point of his visit.

  “Not much. This mu’fucka is squeaky clean. He on that real suit and tie type shit,” Fly Boogie said as he dug his hands in his pockets.

  “Nobody is completely clean,” Miamor responded. “Everybody has dirty laundry, we just have to find the closet he’s hiding it in.”

  Fly Boogie shook his head doubtfully and handed her his phone. “Take a look for yourself. I’ve been stalking this nigga for days. This is all I’ve got, a bunch of pictures . . . but nothing stands out.”

  Miamor swiped her finger across the screen as she flicked through photos. She peered at the images with a critical eye. She sent each one to her email before moving to the next shot.

  “I’m telling you there’s nothing there. You should just let me get at the niggas who turning state. No witnesses, no case,” Fly Boogie said.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Miamor said quickly. She hadn’t told Fly Boogie her exact agenda. She didn’t know him well enough to trust him with the details. He was Zyir’s man and off of that strength she decided to use him to her advantage.

  “Yeah a’ight. Look I know a nigga young and fly and all that, but one thing ya’ boy Fly ain’t is dumb,” he answered. “You trying to find something out about the prosecution to shake shit up. When all you got to do is cut off a few pair of loose lips, nah mean? A nigga with no lips can’t do no talking.”

  Miamor smirked at the young hustler’s remarks. He was confident as if he had a cloak of invincibility. That type of bravado came with youth. She had lived many days with that same cockiness, but she was older and smarter. She knew better. She couldn’t kill everybody. This case was sewn up tightly. Too many low level hustlers and mid-grade buyers were exchanging testimony for deals. Most were hidden away in witness protection. One witness in one safe house was feasible, but multiple murders without the aid of her old crew was impossible.

  “Again, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she reiterated.

  Fly Boogie nodded and then proceeded to the door. “I can put in work and I’m not like these other li’l homies out here. Zyir is my man. Whatever I got to do to prove my worth, I’m with it. You can trust me.”

  “Good-bye Fly Boogie,” she said with a half-smile. The kid was growing on her and his charismatic personality paired with his knack for the streets was appealing. He was a young goon, and a hustler by any means necessary. He was Carter Jones before the Italian cut suits, drug kingpin status, business acquisitions, and overseas connects. Fly Boogie was gutter but had so much potential. He was ride or die. If they ever came out of this she would definitely tell Carter how helpful Fly had been. And if Carter never comes home, I’ll put Fly Boogie on my team, she thought, preparing herself for the worst.

  * * *

  The sound of the grandfather clock ticked slowly as the pendulum swung back and forth. Leena tapped her nude, manicured, nails against the wooden arm of the office chair as she waited patiently. The nude jumpsuit she wore along with six-inch heels, stood out amongst the poorly dressed businesswomen around her. Their cheap threads paled in comparison to the immaculately styled attire she wore. While well composed in appearance, she was unraveling on the inside. She had become acquainted with the night hours since Monroe had gone away. Worry and stress etched permanent lines on her once youthful face. She was no longer a young girl in love with a bad boy. She was a grown woman, dealing with the consequences of loving a man whom conflicted with the law. Her choices had led her to this point. The choice to stay involved with The Cartel had been hers and now she was suffering, heart empty, future unpredictable. She was a dope man’s wife and to a young girl it was a dream . . . to a grown woman it was a nightmare. The position was glitzy on the surface but dulled the person she was within. Leena wanted out and as she sat waiting for the Diamond family accountant to summon her, she was determined to find her exit.

  “Leena Deveraux, Mr. Odom is ready for you now,” the receptionist announced.

  Leena stood and followed the thin, brunette to the back office. She nodded gratefully as the woman stood to the side and extended her arm so that Leena could bypass her. Mr. Odom stood, clad in a Brooks Brothers suit. He was distinguished with smooth, black, skin and a clean baldhead. The dark features of his goatee and thick eyebrows stood out on his face, perfectly groomed. His persona yelled wealth and he had a presence that made everyone around him attentive. He was the complete opposite of what Leena had expected. A rich, successful, black man paving a way in a legit atmosphere was so foreign to her. All she had been around for years was men involved in the game. This black man in front of her was refreshing. He smiled and extended his hand. The scent of his clean cologne awakened her senses.

  “Thomas Odom,” he introduced. “You must be Ms. Deveraux,”

  “Call me Leena,” she replied.

  She sat down and placed her handbag in her lap as he walked around his desk to take his own seat. He folded his hands on top of his desk, the lines of the suit hugging his broad shoulders.

  “What can I help you with?” he asked.

  Leena cleared her throat before she spoke, trying to swallow the lump that had formed. She wasn’t a dumb girl. In fact, she had a bachelor’s in business, although it did very little besides collect dust in a box. She had allowed herself to be sucked into the lifestyle of the rich and infamous. Leena had completely abandoned the concept of a normal life, but there was only so much she could take. After the catastrophe of her wedding day and Monroe disappearing into the sky, she could no longer take this life.

  “My fiancé was Monroe Diamond,” she started. “I’m here to speak to you about Diamond enterprises. I know that he along with Carter and Breeze have a lot of money put into that corporation. I’d like to talk about investment opportunities. The family is interested in going in a different direction.”

  Odom studied her as she spoke, admiring her beauty. “First let me express my condolences to you and your family. I’m sure this is a very hard time for you, but I can not speak to you about Mr. Diamond’s financial affairs. He wasn’t a client of mine. He was a loyal client of Jamison Wildes. Perhaps you should be speaking to him about the Diamond affairs.”

  Leena went into her Birkin and removed a manila envelope. “I thought you may say that Mr. Odom . . .”

  He waved his hand. “Thomas,” he said, dismissing the formalities.

  “Thomas, well Jamison Wildes only handled the domestic accounts for Monroe. You are far better versed in foreign money, which is why Monroe hired you to handle any international transactions, including Swiss and Cayman accounts. Here is Monroe’s living will,” she said as she passed it to him. “As you can see he left his third of Diamond enterprises to me. Along with that is the living will of Carter Jones. I already have his beneficiary along with Breeze on board. We want to change the way that our money is earned. I know that Monroe trusted you with his money because of that I trust you.”

  Odom pulled his tie and sat back in his seat, crossing his leg over the other. “I have done business with the Diamond family for many years. I tried over a decade ago to steer Carter Sr. away from his way of business. It saddens me that it took so much loss to come to this,” Odom said. “Unfortunately the government has seized all accounts associated with your family. There is no money.”

  Leena smirked. “That’s funny. What you have to understand Thomas is that our men prepared us for this day. You don’t fall in love with a man like Monroe Diamond without preparing for the inevitable fall from grace. I want the money that’s tucked away in the Swiss and Cayman accounts. I want it in cash and I know exactly how much it is so please don’t try to short change me.”

  Odom smiled as he got comfortable in his chair. Intrigue danced in his eyes. Leena’s hard exterior covered up a bleeding interior as her heart beat rapidly. She hadn’t had a sleep filled night since the Feds had come around. Leena needed the money to take The Cartel corpor
ate. She didn’t know how yet, but she knew that the move was completely overdue and absolutely necessary.

  “Stand please,” Odom said.

  “Excuse me?” she asked, suddenly thrown off.

  He motioned with his fingers smoothly for her to stand. She put her hand bag down on the floor and stood, as did he. He rounded the desk, his tall figure walking toward her. Fragile and heart broken Leena’s thought drifted to Monroe. Until now, she had never had to take the lead. She was so comfortable following. Thrust into power, it was her place to now manage the money that Monroe had left behind. She needed to square her shoulders, put fire in her eyes, and boss up her entire life but instead all she felt was emptiness.

  As Odom stood in front of her he seemed to see through her. “You’re beautiful Ms. Devereaux. It truly pains me to see a woman like you so broken. You are worthy of much more.”

  Leena sucked in a sharp breath. Am I that transparent? She thought. Odom was handsome and she had his full attention. Leena silently wondered what life would have been like had she met a man like him. He was what Monroe would have been had the war with the Haitians not happened. Instead she had been caught in a web of drugs, lust, and money. She had fallen for not one but two Diamond brothers. She hadn’t stood a chance.

  Sensing her discomfort he switched the subject. She was clearly mourning. She smiled demurely. “I’m fine. A bit uncomfortable standing in six inch heels when I could be sitting comfortably,” she replied.

  He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. I just need to be sure. Please hold out your arms.”

  Leena frowned but did as she was told. His hands began to roam. “You think I’m wired?”

  Odom didn’t answer, but he continued to search her. When he was sure that she was clean he nodded.

  “I apologize. The IRS and other bureaus have been combing through my records trying to make me an accomplice in this case. I can’t be too careful. Now let’s talk about the money . . . perhaps over dinner?” Odom asked.

  Leena was stuck for a moment. Did he just ask me out? She thought. He sensed her hesitation. “I realize that you are basically Monroe’s widow. I was in attendance at the wedding turned massacre remember. It’s just dinner and good company while attending to business.”

  “Okay,” Leena said. She wanted to say no, but until she got the money in her hands she decided to keep things comfortable between them. He wouldn’t be the first accountant to clean out a client, so she decided to play it safe to hinder any foul play. “I’ll send a car for you tonight at 7:00 p.m.”

  Odom’s eyes widened in surprise.

  She chuckled slightly as she grabbed her bag. “I’m the Cartel Mr. Odom. I have to control my surroundings. Guess I picked up a few tricks to the trade being around Monroe.”

  “Apparently,” he quipped. The way he eyed Leena, she knew that she would have to be careful with him. He had never met a woman like her and she knew that he never would. She was one of a kind and held a power that even she did not yet realize. Her mind was so sharp that she could outthink the majority and now it was her time to come into her own. A new regime was emerging. The streets had forced Miamor, Leena, and Breeze into a sisterhood. Together, they would takeover.

  Chapter 6

  “I forgave you because my brother loves you but I don’t fuck with your clique.”

  —Breeze

  Breeze stepped out of the chauffeured Maybach with oversized Bulgari shades hiding her true emotions from the cameras. She was the surviving child of the infamous king of Miami, Carter Diamond. She was a living legend and everyone wanted a piece of her. Controversy circled the family like vultures waiting for death. The news reporters stayed on her particularly. Everyone wanted a comment, an interview; even Time Magazine had offered her money for a sit down. Street fame was turning into actual fame for Breeze; she wanted none of it however. The only thing Breeze craved at the moment was Zyir. Loneliness consumed her days while the only companionship she had at night was grief. Leena and Miamor were lucky. They had the seeds of the men they loved to cultivate. Even in Carter and Monroe’s absence, the children they left behind provided comfort. Breeze was alone. Breeze was not a mother. She had no piece of Zyir, besides her memories and even those weren’t enough. She wanted her man. She was skeptical about his well-being. A part of her didn’t believe that he was alive, but Miamor seemed so sure that it kept a tiny spark of hope blazing in Breeze’s chest. Breeze was the weakest link but she hid it well. Sunglasses were a permanent veil to cover her red, puffy, eyes. Her expensive clothes distracted the masses from her hunched shoulders. She disguised her burden well because she made sure she was always put together right. It was how her mother, Taryn had raised her. “You have to always be a bad bitch.” It was words she had lived by her entire life, but in the absence of all the people who had sworn to be her protectors, they never rang more true. The hired goon stood suited in Italian threads while concealing American metal in his holster. His six foot five inch frame pushed the reporters out of the way as she trailed him into the building to meet the federal prosecutor.

  “Ms. Diamond, how does it feel to be the last member of The Cartel standing?”

  “Is it true that your family is responsible for seventy percent of the murders in Dade County?”

  “Ms. Diamond can you comment on the mysterious plane crash that killed your brothers and live-in boyfriend?”

  Breeze kept her head low as she held onto the back of her bodyguard’s shirt. The thirsty media was so focused on breaking open the story of the largest crime family in the South and they were relentless in their tactics. Relief came as she stepped inside of the rotating doors.

  “Wait here for me,” she instructed.

  The average person would have been shaken by a request to meet with the law, but Breeze was fully prepared. She had a pit on a chain in the form of her attorney, Rosenberg, and like a loyal dog ready to bark he stood waiting for her in the lobby. He had represented the family for years, dating back to Big Carter and Polo. He knew of their dealings intimately and had protected them from persecution for a few decades. He had attended family barbecues, holidays, and birthday parties. Breeze felt completely safe in his care.

  “Breeze, how are you?” he asked as he greeted her with a firm handshake.

  “I’d be better if I didn’t have to be here. What is this about?” she asked as they made their way to the elevators.

  “This is a fishing expedition,” Rosenberg replied. “You can let me do all the talking. That’s what you pay me the big bucks for.” He gave her a wink and she smiled, feeling relaxed as she followed one of her father’s oldest friends into the lion’s den.

  Rosenberg led her directly into the office of Daniel Broome, the P.A. assigned to take down her family. Her internal alarm immediately went up.

  “Rosenberg, I didn’t realize you would be joining us,” Broome said.

  The two guests took a seat without being asked and Breeze folded her legs, making herself comfortable.

  “You should know better by now Daniel,” Rosenberg replied, showing disrespect by using his first name.

  Daniel Broome was an American bread golden boy. Son of a senator and an ivy-league grad, he came out of law school with a readymade position. He had assisted on many cases, including the original case that the Feds had brought against Carter Diamond. When they didn’t convict, Broome had a hard-on for The Cartel and now that the children of the man whom had eluded the law were in his clutches he was determined to bring justice. He was a young, ambitious, lad . . . too ambitious for Breeze’s taste.

  “Why am I here?” Breeze asked.

  “Breeze as you know I’ve been following your family for quite some time. This case is strong, completely rock solid. Before the death of your brothers and your boyfriend my focus was on convicting them. Their deaths don’t mean that this case goes away. Someone still has to pay for the damage that has been done to the streets of Miami.”

  The P.A. pulled out a manila folder and be
gan to pull out still photographs. “Your family, your father, your brothers have destroyed this community,” he said. He placed a picture of a young boy laid out in his own blood before her. Breeze didn’t flinch. He then placed a picture of a young toddler who had been hit by a stray bullet. Again, Breeze was unmoved. There were casualties in war. “Innocent people have lost their lives behind the melee of The Cartel.”