by Ashley
They were oblivious to the festivities. Miamor and Aries kept their eyes on the horses. They watched the jockeys. They watched the people behind the gates as a horse retired after its race. Their eyes caught everything, until finally Miamor chose her mark.
“Her,” she said with certainty.
“How do you know?” Aries asked.
“I just know,” Miamor said.
Aries had seen the determined look on Miamor’s face many times before and she trusted her friend’s intuition. She shrugged with indifference. “All right. Let’s do it.”
The duo waited for hours until they finally noticed the woman they had seen earlier at the track, emerging and headed toward the parking lot. Her long hair fell in one length past her middle back and was pulled into a sloppy ponytail. Her dirty clothes revealed the fact that she had worked closely with the horses all day. The woman slightly hunched over, her posture poor as she walked tiredly to her car.
“Follow her,” Miamor instructed Aries and like clockwork they pulled out of the parking lot right behind their mark. Miamor and Aries worked like two hands, one washed the other. It was as if they had fallen right back into their old ways. They were parts of a well-oiled machine. Their work was efficient and flawless. “Hurry, don’t lose her,” Miamor urged, anxiously.
They tailed her for half an hour before pulling across the street from a small blue house with worn shutters and peeling paint. The front screen door was hanging half way off the hinges, but the woman beamed gratefully as she got out of her car, as if she was going home to a palace.
Miamor waited until the woman placed her key in the lock before she exited her car. Aries looked left, Miamor right. The streets were bare. Cloaked in the night’s shadows, their identities were concealed. It was the perfect stage for treachery, but Miamor hoped that things played out smoothly. Miamor hurriedly walked up the walkway and just as the woman was pushing her door open, Miamor was forcing her inside.
“Agh!” the woman yelled startled.
“Shhh,” Miamor said as she cupped her mouth. “Is there anyone else inside this house?” she asked.
The woman’s eyes were filled with terror when Aries brandished her .45 while she looked around cautiously. She shook her head.
The home was barely the size of a small apartment and Aries checked it quickly. “No one is here,” she informed.
“Good, that’ll give us privacy to talk,” Miamor said. “I’m going to take my hand from over your mouth. You can’t scream. If you scream then my friend here is going to have to silence you . . . permanently. Nod your head if you understand me.”
The woman nodded frantically and Miamor let her go.
“What do you want? I’m a poor, old, woman, I don’t have anything of value,” she said.
“You have something that is of great value to me,” Miamor said softly. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m here to offer my help in return for yours.”
The woman stood clutching herself as her eyes danced back and forth between Miamor and Aries.
“I . . . I don’t understand,” she stammered.
“Please sit,” Miamor said. The woman did as she was told while fear corrupted her heart.
“You have access to the horses in tomorrow’s 6:00 p.m. race,” Miamor started.
The woman nodded nervously.
“I need the Mona Lisa sabotaged and I’m willing to pay $75,000 for your assistance,” Miamor said bluntly.
Flabbergasted the woman immediately shook her head. “I . . . I can’t . . . I could never . . . I love those horses.”
Miamor looked down at the stack of bills on the entry table. “It looks like you could use the money. No offense but this is hardly living,” she said, referring to the house. She was trying to get what she wanted by using sugar before the situation turned to shit.
The woman stood. “Please, you have to leave. I don’t want your money. I’ll get by. Please I’m not interested” the woman pleaded fearfully. She was obviously frightened as she tried to usher her unwanted guests to the door. Miamor hated to put this burden on the woman’s heart. She seemed nice and Miamor knew that she had grown soft. In the past she wouldn’t have cared about her mark, but today she felt compassion for the disheveled woman before her. Not many people would turn away from such a large sum of money. The woman had principles and Miamor respected it. It wouldn’t help the woman out of the situation, but still Miamor gave the woman a few points for trying to stand her ground.
“Okay remember I tried it the nice way first,” Miamor said, her voice suddenly cold. She walked around the living room as if she owned the place until her gaze fell upon a mantel of framed pictures. “What do we have here? Children? I’d bet you would hate to see anything bad happen to them.”
“Please . . .” the woman’s eyes were wide and filled with tears as her bottom lip trembled.
“Look bitch let me make this perfectly clear,” Aries interrupted as she placed her gun to the woman’s head. “You’re going to inject Mona Lisa with a shot tomorrow directly before the race. Simple, quick, and easy. If you refuse by the time you leave the tracks little miss blondie up there . . .” Aries pointed to the picture of the woman’s daughter. “and those two ugly little grandkids of yours will be dead before you get home. Don’t think we can’t find them. We’ve done this for quite some time. I assure you, we’re quite good at it,” Aries threatened.
Miamor stepped up. “All you have to do is inject one shot. It’ll be the easiest $75,000 you ever make,” Miamor finished. “Do we have a deal?”
The woman nodded in trepidation as her tears finally broke free and fell down her face.
“Relax. You do this and you’ll never hear from us again. You don’t and we’ll be back, next time for blood. You tell anyone about this little visit and you’ll be burying your entire family by the week’s end,” Aries threatened. Miamor handed the woman a shot of a drug called Lasix. Some breeders used the drug to stop their horses lungs from bleeding while racing. It was three times the normal amount that breeders usually give their horses before a race. It would dehydrate Mona Lisa so badly that the horse would most likely die before ever meeting the finish line. Once Broome was broke and desperate, Miamor would have him right where she wanted him. It was only a matter of time . . .
Odom pulled his Aston Martin out into traffic as he loosened his necktie. The day had been long and stressful. Gathering the money that the Cartel had stacked for a rainy day had required all of his focus. He had needed to ensure that he didn’t leave a paper trail that would lead him to the big house. He had set up two trust accounts, one for Miamor and the other for Leena. Because they weren’t directly related to the Cartel he could create whatever financial history he wanted them to have. Since Miamor had practically lived under the grid since her teenage years, her credit was non-existent. Leena had worked in cash so her credit was neither good or bad. It was easy for him to manufacture perfect credit scores for them both. Breeze on the other hand was another story. Her family was deeply rooted in the drug game and any trust that he set up for her would have been immediately seized. Her money was placed in Leena’s account for safekeeping, but he wasn’t ready to hand over the key to their new fortune just yet. Odom was smitten with Leena and wanted nothing more than a shot to court her. She had accepted the dinner invitation but he knew that once she had access to her own money she wouldn’t need him anymore. He needed a little bit of time to show her that a legit life wasn’t so bad. His attraction was strong and he was trying to get to know her. The late night text messages that he would send her were always politely returned. His early “Morning beautiful” lines answered immediately, but always safely. He understood her hesitance. She was a new widow. Her last relationship had left her lonely, overwhelmed, and hurt, but Odom was determined to crack her. He wanted to introduce her to something new. Her consistent no’s only made him more persistent. A man of the upper class, he was used to getting his way. Most women let him have his way with them with ju
st the flash of his black card. He was attractive, successful, important, but he lacked the raw edge that Leena was drawn too. In the end when she was around him she didn’t feel that familiar pulse in her pussy. Mecca had made her feel it at first sight and Monroe had made her wish she didn’t. Odom knew that he had his work cut out for him, he was up for the challenge. He was hoping that the unexpected bouquet of roses he had sent over to her home would at least be rewarded with a call. He had been anticipating her response all day. He picked up his phone and saw that he had no missed calls.
“Fuck it,” he whispered to himself as he took matters into his own hands. There’s nothing wrong with going after what I want, he coached himself.
The phone rang twice before the husky melody of her voice filled his ear.
“Hello?” she answered.
“Just the sound of that voice brings so much joy to what has otherwise been a shitty day,” he said.
“Oh really?” Leena replied. He smiled because he could hear the laughter in her voice. “It couldn’t have been that bad. You had the time in your schedule to send flowers to my door.”
Odom chuckled and replied, “You’re quite a distraction Ms. Devereaux. You don’t quite seem like the roses type of girl, but they are beautiful all the same. I thought I’d play it safe.”
“They aren’t my favorite flower,” she admitted. “But the arrangement was beautiful. Thank you. When can we expect to have our affairs in order?”
“We can arrange an affair anytime you are ready,” he joked.
“Odom . . . you are a really nice man, but I’m . . .”
“Easy Leena. Don’t stick me with the fork yet. I’m not done. It was only a joke. I understand your situation. I just want it to be known that I plan to wait. As long as it takes for you to get over your loss. I’m very interested in making you mine.”
Her sigh was heavy on the other end of the line.
“Maybe I can take you to lunch. We can discuss the trust. All of the money is in two accounts. I can explain everything to you tomorrow. Maybe just maybe you will tell me your favorite flower. That way next time I know what to send. You pick the place this time and I promise I’ll stick to your plans.”
“I’ll think about having lunch with you,” she said after a long pause. “After we close out our business. I’ll meet you at your office at noon.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” Odom said, flirtatiously.
“Good night Odom,” Leena finished.
Odom could hear the sweetness in her tone and he ended the call with a half smile, feeling hopeful. Hope quickly faded into alarm when he saw the hooded figure rise out of his backseat.
“I don’t know what the fuck you smiling for playboy. That little lunch date ain’t happening,” Fly Boogie retorted as he pressed cold steel against the back of Odom’s neck. “You was putting all your game down too. My bosses feel that is a bit disrespectful. Slime-ball mu’fucka.”
“Look you can have whatever you want. I have money . . .”
“I don’t want your money. I have a message from Monroe Diamond,” Fly Boogie said “His bitch ain’t on the market.”
Odom’s eyes doubled in size as he realized this goon had been sent by a ghost himself. “I meant no disre . . .”
Fly Boogie hit Odom hard against his skull causing him to wince as his head jerked forward and the car momentarily went off course.
“Pull this mu’fucka over!” Fly barked.
“Please . . .”
“Dig this,” Fly Boogie said calmly as the car rolled to a stop on the side of the road. “Tomorrow you’re gonna hand over the money to Leena and cut off all communication with her going forward. If not I’m going to visit your mama out in Aventura off of Biscayne Blvd. Am I clear?”
“Crystal,” Odom replied. He didn’t have to ask how Fly knew his mother’s address. He knew exactly who he was fucking with. The caliber of the Cartel’s reign hadn’t been seen since the days of the New York and Chicago Italian mobs. The Diamond family was heavy in Miami. He didn’t know what he was thinking approaching a widow of The Cartel. He had let his little head get him into a beef when in actuality he wasn’t built for that life.
“Good, now get out of the car,” he ordered.
Odom stepped out of the car and out into the shower of rainfall that fell from the sky. Fly Boogie got out, gun trained on Odom.
“Please don’t kill me,” Odom said calmly, realizing that he was fucking with an entirely new type of drug dealer . . . one that neither the Feds nor death could catch.
“Get on the ground,” Fly Boogie hollered as he kicked in the back of Odom’s knee causing it to buckle. He fell to the wet ground, gritting his teeth and kicking himself for being so unaware of his surroundings.
“Better cut Leena loose tomorrow mu’fucka or its lights out for you,” Fly Boogie said. “Sincerely, Monroe Diamond.”
Fly Boogie climbed into the driver’s seat and rolled down the window. “Ol’ pussy ass nigga,” he spat an insult before pulling off recklessly. Water back splashed onto his expensive suit as he watched Fly Boogie speed away from the scene.
“Fuck!” Odom shouted as he climbed to his feet throwing his fists at the air in frustration. He had clearly fucked with the wrong man’s wife.
Chapter 8
“I’ve got a thing for a woman with aggression.”
—Carter
Carter erupted out of his sleep, immediately reaching for the handgun that lay at his bedside. It was instinct for him, especially during times of high stress. He would rather pop first and ask questions later than to be caught slipping. Only this time it was only Yasmine’s face he saw. Her expression was fearless and held a bit of impatience as she raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re going to shoot me?” she asked.
Carter lowered his weapon and swiped his tired eyes with his hands as he shook his head to wake himself up. What the hell was she doing in his suite?
“My fault ma. Its habit,” he said as he climbed out of the comfort of the plush bedding, exposing his shirtless body. “You don’t knock huh?”
“People knock when they are guests. I own this entire property. No need for me to tip toe around my own establishment,” she replied with a smile. “I didn’t mean to alarm you.”
He could see the amusement in her eyes. “I’m funny?”
She shook her head. “Not at all Mr. Jones,” she replied. “I find you quite intriguing. Men here, don’t carry the same air of confidence that you do. You’re . . . dangerous.” She said.
“You shouldn’t sneak up on dangerous men than,” he replied.
“I happen to like danger,” she answered flirtatiously. “How did you sleep?”
“Well.”
“My father explained to me the circumstances that brought you here. I can only imagine the stress that you’ve built up. I’ve arranged something for you and the others. I think you’ll find it very pleasing Mr. Jones,” she said.
“Call me Carter,” he corrected.
She nodded. “Carter,” she said. She walked up on him, standing closely as she placed a finger on his chest. “Shower, get dressed, and then follow these instructions. It’s my job to fulfill your needs.”
He felt his manhood jump at the insinuation of her words. He would have to tread lightly around this siren. Images of her petite body bent over in front of him flashed through his mind, causing him to harden. It had been awhile since he had been inside of a woman. Miamor had been recovering from the delivery of their child. He had been on the run for his life. He hadn’t realized how backed up he was until he felt his desire building in this moment. She stepped closer, pressing her body against his, feeling his wanting. “Hmm,” she moaned softly. “You are definitely not like the men in Saudi Arabia.”
Not one to let his little head do the thinking for him, Carter stepped back, putting room between them.
“I’ll see you in half an hour. Monroe and Zyir have already received their invitations,” she said. She turned and str
utted out of the room and Carter couldn’t help but wonder about what was underneath the clothes that she wore. He shook his head, hoping that he hadn’t just run from one problem only to bump right into another. It was obvious that Yasmine was trouble just waiting to happen. He wasn’t a young man. The potential for lust didn’t distract him for the task at hand. He needed to lay low and he was interested in finding out more about Baraka’s business practices. He wouldn’t allow a woman to get in the way of a potentially fruitful partnership. He would keep her at arm’s length because he had a feeling if she ever got her hands on him, he wouldn’t want her to take them off. She was a temptress but he was a man of principle. He didn’t shit where he slept which meant that the beautiful Arabian women around him were off limits, especially Yasmine Baraka.
The smell of vanilla filled the air as the smoke from the lit incense floated mystically into the air. The lights were dimmed as Zyir walked into the suite, surveying his surroundings. Women were everywhere. Hedonistic, sexy, uninhibited, as they partook in various sexual activities. A magnificent spread of food was presented on a long dining table. Fruits, wines, cheeses, meats . . . it was a king’s feast.
“I hope this is to your liking.”
He turned to see Yasmine enter the room with a friendly smile as Monroe followed her. “I arranged a bit of convenience for you gentleman. These harems are here to service you in any way. Your every desire, your every wish is their command,” she said.
Zyir was led away by a naked woman just as Carter walked into the room. It was a full out orgy of woman on woman action. The scent of sex lingered in the air, hidden by the musk of the vanilla fragrance. Monroe looked back at him with a raised brow. “You see this shit?” he asked. “They treat us like kings over here.”
“You are a king Money. Make sure you act like one. Take care of those who take care of you. Tip well for good service. These women work hard for their money fam,” Carter said. Paying for pussy wasn’t his thing and although this was being gifted to him, he still wasn’t too interested. He liked to pursue a woman, wine and dine a woman, sweet talk the panties off a woman as she tried her hardest to resist. He enjoyed the art of the chase. This wasn’t his vibe. “Enjoy brother, we all could use a release. Strap up,” he warned.