by Keta Kendric
When I spun, I pulled HB from the waistband of my skirt and aimed at the man’s head. His loud screams bounced off my body. His mouth was gaped wide open, his body tensed, and his straining vocal cords were making an attempt to push their way out of his neck.
I tilted my head, glaring at him losing his shit over me aiming a gun at him. Why was he so upset? Hadn’t he just asked me not to leave him that way?
As fast as my finger flexed on the trigger, his head contents splattered onto the dirty carpet, the rest was seeping out in bloody bubbles. It wasn’t the sight of death, his fear-frozen eyes, or his gaping mouth that excited me.
It was the metallic scent of fresh gun-smoke that I inhaled, closing my eyes to savor the fragrance. Only when the rusted scent of blood disrupted the relaxing scent of oil, fire, and gun metal, did I open my eyes and step away.
Now, I was faced with one pressing question. Why was the Cardenas Cartel watching me?
2
Mecca
A relaxing rush of warmth always filled me before I erupted into total fury. My patience was barely hanging on by a thread that was quickly unraveling, but I had maintained it longer than I expected to, enduring the usual complaints from my crew. I spit my words at the men eyeballing me, my tone low and deadly.
“I can’t believe my uncle left me in charge of you no-balls-having, whining and complaining, titty-sucking bitches.”
The first thought that popped into my mind—kill them all—would’ve been the easiest thing to do. However, I had never taken the easy way out of anything in my life. My calm, the side of me that had matured and sustained my life and mental health in a male-dominated world, surfaced. As much as I would have loved to restart with a new crew, the sensible part of my brain reminded me that, for the most part, the men did good work.
I gave them shit, a lot of it. However, each knew that I would walk through hell for them and had their backs even when they may have been wrong. This was our time to hash shit out, voice our frustrations, and for me to get in their asses if they were out there screwing up.
The calm I summoned helped to quiet the ruthless savagery that ran through my veins, demanding release. I lifted my gaze from the men and concentrated on the deep gray walls of the warehouse we were in. Those walls held more interest than the men as their voices carried as much shit around the open space as a city-fed pigeon.
After my uncle pulled a fuck-move that left me and my cousin, Desiree, in the middle of a shit storm, I had inherited the job of running my family’s drug business.
Overnight, I had become the queenpin of the organization known as the Black Saints. After working for years under my uncle, Raymond Evans, he had handed me the reins, claiming it was temporary while he handled some business.
The cold hard truth fell like a ton of bricks after gaining control. My uncle had conned twenty million dollars from two of the highest level criminal organizations in the world. To make matters worse, millions of dollars of our drugs were seized by the authorities in multiple sting operations. Now, I was left holding the bag with a gaping hole ripped in the bottom.
I was solely responsible for leading the men who were my peers weeks ago. The idea of being shot at was more appealing than dealing with a bunch of complaining ass men. Since regular English didn’t appear to compute for them, I used curse words in the place of nouns, verbs, and adjectives.
“I’m not my fucking uncle,” I barked for the umpteenth time, my words passing through my lips with more ease than I felt.
“When I give you a fucking order, fucking follow it, or go and work for the enemy so you can make it easier for me to take your complaining ass out.”
I pointed at my tits.
“Please don’t let the fact that I have titties trick you into thinking I’m a fucking joke.”
They stared like I had lost my natural mind, but they knew better than to test my crazy. These men were my street specialists, the ones who had earned enough creds to sit at the table. It meant they had a level of authority that allowed them to offer input to be considered in the decision making.
My cousins, Raymond Junior, and Rayland had never wanted the job I had inherited, although they had grown up sucking from the tit of the empire financially. Rayland was addicted to the drugs we sold, and Ray Junior was gay and extremely in the closet. Ray Junior stayed clear of the spotlight and didn’t show his face unless he was summoned.
Growing up, I had studied my uncle’s movements like he was a street bible. I even took a bullet in the shoulder once that was meant for his conniving snake-slithering ass. I didn’t want my uncle dead, but I wasn’t trying to be a hero either when I took his bullet. Unfortunately, I had just been in the damn way.
Now, I had inherited a drug empire that was one kilo, one drug bust, one indictment, or one good rat’s tale away from crumbling. To top it all off, the men were complacent, spoiled, and not used to being dealt with.
I had started in the business at the bottom, selling small, piece by piece until I went through the ranks like a soldier was supposed to. If anything, my uncle was harder on me because I was his kin, and a female. He stayed on my ass the same as any of the guys who stepped out of line, and I had taken the shit and moved the fuck on.
Now, here I stood, a grown-ass woman who should have been enjoying this life after all the grinding I had done, but instead, I was about to start from scratch.
Since leaving me to run a broken empire wasn’t enough, my uncle had also promised me and my cousin, Desiree, to the Vallin brothers for ten million dollars to build an alliance between our families. The deal, in my opinion, was the smartest thing he had done in a long time. The only regret I had was that he had involved Desiree.
Uniting our drugs, and the Vallins weapon sales would make us superpowers in our respective criminal arenas. The Vallin brothers were also members of the Ferali Syndicate, one of the most notorious crime syndicates in the world.
The Vallins had agreed to my uncle’s proposal, only to later find out that he had played us all. The cherry on top of the shit pile was that he had also promised Desiree to a second group called the Fallen Angels, for the same price, and had taken their ten million too.
Raymond disappeared with the twenty million and left us to face the consequences of the tangled web he had spun. Now, the Vallins were depending on me to uphold the Evans name in the drug arena, so that their investment in the Black Saints wouldn’t be in vain. Arjen Vallin was set to marry Desiree, and I would soon marry Khane ‘the Kannibal’ Vallin.
A waving hand stopped my runaway thoughts, pulling my attention back to our meeting. “What?” I asked Elijah, who went by ‘Boogie.’
I had taken the stance of calling the men by their given names. They didn’t like it, but I didn’t give a damn about what they liked. In my opinion, code names and call signs should be used when you were conducting more life-threatening operations.
Holding back curse words, my lips pulled tight at the notion of unleashing if I received one more complaint about the way I was changing things.
“I’ve been running distribution through Constance Street for eighteen months, if J.T. starts using a different route, there are going to be questions,” he stated.
“Let there be questions. Who gives a shit? Whoever questions you, give them my number, and tell them to call me so I can give them some of these curse words. What you fail to understand is that they need us more than we need them. If we cut them off, they have nowhere else to go but outside their territory. Are they willing to risk a war because we are improving our game?”
He dropped his head without replying, knowing I was right.
Was it possible to restore the empire I had longed to run, or had my uncle made too many mistakes and cut too many raw deals for it to be salvaged?
3
Arjen
This was not what I had envisioned for my wedding day. I had racked my brain for days, attempting to figure out how I would punish my brother and my fiancée.
&n
bsp; After spending a few weeks under my brother’s protection, my beautiful innocent-looking bride-to-be, Desiree Evans, had slept with him. Khane, the one person I had believed would never betray me, had willingly participated in the betrayal.
Sure, I was using Desiree and our marriage was nothing more than an arrangement, but the betrayal had still delivered an impacting blow to the bond I had with my brother, as well as my ego. This situation had knocked me off the high horse I had gotten used to riding.
Marrying Desiree would have been the ultimate punishment for her betraying me. Now that I was standing here in front of her and the pastor, I was having serious second thoughts.
The volume of sadness she gave off while standing in front of me spoke to my compassion. Each tear I watched slip down her cheek was a telling sign of how much she cared for my brother.
I had seen the way they looked at each other, and although I didn’t believe it at first, the most skeptical mind could see that they shared a strong connection. They had betrayed me, so why was I the one standing here, ignoring the pastor while I contemplated one of the noblest gestures to ever run through my mind.
Because you love your brother more than you care about getting revenge. Because you know that Desiree actually cares about him too. Because other than you, Khane has never had anyone else that cared about him.
I lifted my hand, stopping the pastor while he was asking me, for the third time, if I would take Desiree as my wife. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t marry her, knowing it would only leave us all in a raw state of bitterness and pain.
After scaring the guests by stopping the pastor in the middle of my ceremony, I stepped down from the stage, plucked Khane from the audience, and pulled him up on stage with me. Based on the tension in his posture and his pinched brow, he had no idea what I was about to do.
Mecca
The four-inch heels I wore worked overtime to keep up with my quick stride to the stage when it appeared Arjen Vallin was about to do some shady shit and embarrass my cousin.
Desiree had cheated on him with his brother. So, the fuck, what? It wasn’t like they were in love and getting married for any respectable reason. We were all using each other.
We were all raised in a world where illegal was the norm, and wrong was right. This shit was about business, a shady ass arrangement brokered by men devious enough to use humans as bargaining chips.
“I can’t marry this woman,” Arjen stated.
At that statement, the gasps of the crowd sounded like a bunch of pissed off cats as the guests sat frozen in awe, some with their mouths wide open. Hands went over chests, and some whispered behind their fingers to the person next to them.
“Pastor, I can’t marry this woman because I’ve realized that I love someone else more than I care about her.”
As soon as I made it to the foot of the steps that would take me up on the stage, Arjen started up again.
“This person that I love. I care about their feelings more than my own. Therefore, Pastor, I can’t marry this beautiful woman because I can’t bear to break my brother’s heart.”
Those words stopped me dead in my amped-up tracks. Was Arjen about to do what I thought he was about to do? Once he had Khane facing Desiree, and their eyes met, I could almost feel the love the two had for each other.
Arjen turned, addressing the group with his lingering gaze before speaking. “Pastor, if you could start the ceremony over. I would like to give this man to this woman.”
Arjen Vallin was making one of the noblest gestures I had ever bore witness to. Instead of marrying my cousin, he was deciding to let his brother marry her. It was obvious to anyone with working eyes that the two were in love with each other.
However, there was a serious question blaring in my mind. Wasn’t something voted on by the syndicate final? Would there be consequences of Arjen not marrying Desiree? He either knew what loopholes to pull out or had enough high-up friends that he could get away with skirting their decisions.
His decision meant that I no longer had a fiancé, but as long as my cousin was happy, I didn’t care. The smile on her face, the joyful tears that slid down her cheeks as the pastor completed their marriage ceremony, was all I needed to see.
I returned to my seat and stood in place, genuinely happy that someone had received joy from this day. Outside of rumors, I hardly knew Khane, but I was confident he would lay down his life for my cousin.
I texted Patrena an update on the unexpected turn of events of Desiree’s wedding, knowing she would be jumping to know the details. It broke her heart to miss Desiree’s wedding, but she’d had an emergency with a domestic abuse case she was working.
While reading Patrena’s reply, I glanced up in time to catch Arjen making his approach. He was attractive enough to make me look his tall frame up and down a few times, but he wasn’t my type.
There was no need for him to attempt to smooth things over with me if that was his reason for approaching. I didn’t care that my fiancé had married my cousin, because I was down for anything that made her that happy.
Arjen planted himself in the spot next to me and just stood there while his fresh scent called my attention as much as his demanding aura did. I found it difficult to concentrate on my cousin and not him as he closed the already tight space between us.
“Arjen,” he introduced himself, reaching out his big hand. His gray-blue eyes caught me off guard, snatching my attention as I found myself helplessly focusing on them. Not only was the color mesmerizing, but there was something that had flashed in them when we locked gazes. Usually, men were more determined to check out my body than to stare into my eyes, but Arjen was content holding my gaze hostage.
I took his outstretched hand and found his touch more delicate than I expected. His hand swallowed mine, and the warmth emanating from it ran up my arm before zipping through me. I ignored the weird sensation and introduced myself.
“Mecca.”
He flashed a playful smile.
“Mecca, like Islam’s holiest city?”
I fought the smile that threatened to show itself as I remained locked in the tight grips of his stare.
“Yes, but unlike the city, I can’t claim the holy title.”
He chuckled, shaking his head and eyeing me like he knew I was trouble. Once he decided to let my hand go, he remained standing next to me. I found Desiree and Khane in the crowd and concentrated on them.
After our handshake, Arjen seemed a bit restless standing next to me, and I could sense him glancing at me more than he was the happy couple. He hadn’t mentioned anything yet about the last-minute wedding change he’d made.
Was the restless energy I was picking up due to him expecting me to be upset about losing my fiancé?
A smile traced my lips when a funny thought hit me. Was all that restlessness swirling because I didn’t fawn all over him like the women in this building were doing before he had taken the stage?
The sight of Khane and Desiree recaptured my curiosity. Their infectious joy affected me emotionally despite me fighting like hell to pretend it didn’t. How could I not want to see my cousin happy? Neither of us had encountered much happiness in our lives, and although this was unexpected, it was something to be celebrated.
Desiree gleefully returned everyone’s congratulatory hugs, but Khane was content shaking hands and blocking people’s attempts to embrace him. His actions had caused me to giggle. I didn’t blame him one bit. I was particular about who I hugged too.
“Story of my life,” I said. The smile on my face dropped and I finally allowed disappointment to creep into my expression.
Now, my focus was being drawn back to the towering man standing beside me. Why hadn’t Arjen left yet? I wasn’t very friendly to people I didn’t know, although there was something about him that kept shouting for my attention, nonetheless.
“You can wipe that look of disappointment off your beautiful face,” he said, recapturing my full attention. “The way I see it, you’re g
etting the best part of this whole deal.”
“And what deal is that?”
One of my brows lifted, waiting for his answer as my metallic nails tapped against my arm.
“Me. I’m the deal. Since my ex-fiancée is in love with and has married my brother, it appears it will be you and me tying the knot.”
The laugh I didn’t fight too hard to keep to myself, escaped. Was that his idea of a proposal? Was he really about to flip-flop us around like we were pieces on a game board?
Shut the fuck up, Mecca! The voice of reason in my head yelled. Arjen is the head of the Vallin family, and your uncle left you in charge of an empire on the brink of collapse.
At those inner thoughts, a smile slowly materialized.
“Is that what you believe? That I’m getting the best deal?”
Being cocky, I folded my arms across my chest, which caused my tits to lift and flash some cleavage.
“Don’t get it twisted. The way I see it, you’re the lucky one.”
A wide smile lit my face, flashing him a trace of my devilishness. I didn’t miss his eyes zeroing in on my tits. The sound of my voice lifted those pretty eyes back up to meet mine.
“You’re the one that almost missed out on the best thing you didn’t even know you needed,” I stated boldly.
I may not have been getting the man I was supposed to marry, but with Arjen, I sensed that things would be interesting. This was also a way for us to make the Vallin-Evans alliance a more solid pact.
“Are you ready?” he asked, pointing across his shoulder, so broad, I swear they muffled the sound from behind him.
“Ready for what?” My gaze raked him from top to bottom again before locking with his as I shifted my stance from the left foot to the right.