“Nothing is ever an accident,” John said, smiling. “And so when you got to New York and reached out to me, we knew we had a backup plan in place in case Marcus did decide to fire Kareem.”
“But why would you need that? Kareem, aside from stealing my money to pay you guys, was loyal,” Marcus asked, still unclear as to how we ended up here.
“Well, Kareem was getting messy. After the unfortunate demise of his girlfriend, he became reckless, and we knew we could no longer count on him to handle our business interests effectively. And that’s where Laila came in.”
“Laila?” Marcus hissed. “She was working for you guys, too?”
“Not as directly as Kareem, but through her friend, Darryl, with whom we had a significant cocaine business in LA, we were able to get her to work her charms on you as well. The plan was for you to leave your wife for her, and then our interests would be protected, and we wouldn’t need Kareem at all.”
Ever since Kareem and Laila had come into our lives, they had both caused us nothing but heartache and pain, manipulating and twisting emotions for their own gain and destroying our family in the process. They both deserved to burn in hell.
John said that to get Kareem back in line, they had sent one of their men to our home to get to me.
“You sent someone to attack my wife!” Marcus broke free from the men and lunged across the small table to grab John by his lapels.
“No, Marcus!” I screamed as Tyson pulled Marcus away from John. The other man struck him with the butt of his gun in the side of his ribs. The sight of Marcus doubled over in excruciating pain was too much for me, but when his head came up, his face was more determined than ever, his eyes flashed with hot anger, and his nostrils flared as he breathed.
My mind flashed back to the attack in the parking garage. It hadn’t been random at all. Diablo had sent that man to kill me.
“To answer your question,” John said while smoothing the lapels of his jacket, “Carlo was interrupted and didn’t finish the job. A mistake that cost him dearly. After that, there was too much media attention, so we decided that the best way to protect our investment was a more direct approach, so I reached out to your wife again and started the process of showing you Kareem’s deception so you would fire him.
“It was kind of you not to press charges against him for stealing your money, but now you’ll have to decide if he goes to jail for the murder of Laila and Kalinda or if Vanessa will. We’ve set Kareem up to take the fall with his prints on the gun, the same gun that was used to kill Kalinda. All you have to do is continue our little arrangement of fifty percent of your income coming directly to us. Otherwise, your wife goes to jail for two murders and an attempt on Kareem’s life, and we’ll have to end your career in a similar manner as Kareem’s.”
Mr. Quadron raised his hand and motioned to one of the armed guards stationed on the other side of the room. The man removed a large rusted pipe from behind his back and lumbered over to John.
“Breaking kneecaps is such a cliché but certainly effective when you’re dealing with a professional athlete, wouldn’t you say?” John chortled as he opened the briefcase on the table and pulled out a sheaf of documents and a pen. “So what will it be, Mr. King? A continuation of our previous financial arrangement, or do you want your wife to go to jail and your career to be ended? The choice is yours.”
CHAPTER 36
Nia
Within minutes of our arrival outside the warehouse in Rahway, Lee, a burly mean-looking guy with coal-black eyes, and six other men dressed in black fatigues tucked into black combat boots, bulletproof vests, and high-tech earpieces had arrived in a reinforced SUV that looked like it could take out a brick wall. They surveyed the exterior of the warehouse, and Lee sent one of the men he called Bishop to assess points of entry and find the best way to approach without being detected by Diablo Negro.
When Bishop returned, he laid out the setup inside. He said he counted ten armed men inside the main area of the warehouse and that there were likely at least two other men on the plane inside. My blood ran cold when he said that Vanessa was tied to a chair and that Marcus’s hands were cuffed and he was being held by two men. There were also two men seated at a table. He assumed they were in charge of the situation. He showed Terrence a photo of the two men that he took with his infrared telephoto camera.
“That’s Pablo Quadron, head of Diablo Negro, on the right, but I’m not sure who the other guy is with him,” Terrence confirmed.
Within twenty minutes Terrence and Lee came up with a plan to have three men scale the exterior wall and go into the building through the air shaft. Three of the other men would cover the back entrance and wait for their leader’s signal.
Terrence changed out of his suit jacket and tie and took a vest from Lee’s outstretched hand.
“What are you doing?” I cried as I grabbed his arm and pulled him around behind his car, my eyes wide with fear because I already knew the answer. The thought of him going into that warehouse and facing Diablo Negro made me flash back to the nightmare of seeing him lying in that hospital bed fighting for his life. I couldn’t go there again.
“Nia, I have to go. Lee and I will take the guy at the front, and we’ll get Marcus and Vanessa. These guys are the best. Trust me. I used to work with them. Everything is going to be OK.” He took his jacket and put it around my shoulders, then pulled me close to his body. He pulled my chin up so that I would look him in the eye.
“Nothing is going to happen to me, Nia. I promise.” He leaned his head down and kissed me on my trembling mouth. I kissed him back hard, my arms wrapping around his waist tightly as I tried to hold him with me a little while longer.
“You better come back to me,” I whispered hoarsely.
He hugged me and then walked back over to Lee and the team to review the plan one last time and load the semiautomatic that Lee tossed to him from the back of the SUV. Within seconds they all disappeared into the overgrown brush.
I wrapped Terrence’s jacket tighter around my shaking body as I closed my eyes and prayed silently. I inhaled the scent of his jacket. The cologne scent was gone. It just smelled like him.
CHAPTER 37
Vanessa
John spread the legal papers out on the table, explaining that while they were sure that Marcus, unlike Kareem, was a man of his word, he would need to sign a new management agreement that would allow Knight Sports Management to take 50 percent in fees so that it looked like a legal business arrangement. John would in turn then pay Mr. Quadron the fees.
“I need to talk to my wife,” Marcus said as he jerked away from the men holding him and walked over to me. He bent down on one knee and leaned into my ear, his head resting on my shoulder. My arms strained against the ropes. I wanted to hold him so badly.
“Baby, I’m so sorry I got us into this mess,” he said as I rested my head against his and let my lips brush across his cheek.
“I’m the one who should be sorry. I brought John into our lives, and if I hadn’t killed Laila, they wouldn’t have anything to hold over you.”
“The only reason I’m signing these papers is because I can’t bear the thought of you going to jail. I could deal with not playing basketball again, but I can’t ever deal with not having you.”
I closed my eyes as a tear fell onto the side of Marcus’s face.
“And I could bear the thought of going to jail, but I couldn’t ever stand by and watch someone hurt you. It would kill me.”
As we absorbed the enormity of what was about to happen, along with the uncertainty that even if he signed the papers, Diablo Negro could still hurt us, we didn’t want to leave each other’s side. But Bruce came back over and jerked Marcus up onto his feet, then led him back over to the table.
“If I do this, you’ll let us go?” Marcus asked as he held his hands out so that Bruce could remove the handcuffs and he could sign
the documents, giving away half his fortune to save me.
“Of course, Mr. King. We want you to get back out on that court just as much as you do,” John said, his eyes gleaming with triumph.
“And no one ever touches my wife again,” he snarled, looking directly at Pablo Quadron.
“As long as our arrangement stands, you have no problems, I can assure you,” Mr. Quadron said as John removed a black Montblanc pen from the breast pocket of his suit jacket and laid it on top of the contracts.
As Marcus bent down to pick up the pen, a large explosion sounded and glass shattered all around us. I ducked my head and screamed as shards of glass rained down from the top of the glass and metal-framed roof, followed by long black ropes. Three men rappelled down the ropes, and then there was smoke in the room and gunfire, but all I heard was my own screaming.
“Marcus! Marcus!” I screamed as I rocked and strained against the tight ropes holding me firmly to the chair. I could see Marcus jabbing his elbow deep into Tyson’s neck through the smoke. Then he quickly turned to me and ran.
John flipped the table over and grabbed the briefcase and began to run with Mr. Quadron toward the plane. But their escape was cut off as three more men burst through the hangar doors, guns blazing.
As bullets continued to fly, Marcus made it across the room to me in five quick steps and scooped me up while I was still tied to the chair. I buried my head in his chest as he turned and ran, flanked by Terrence and another man dressed in all black who covered our escape by firing rounds from his semiautomatic weapon. I shut my eyes tight as a last image of our son smiling flashed through my mind.
I was sure we were about to die.
CHAPTER 38
Nia
I hadn’t expected to be packing up my office twice within one year. But if I had learned anything, it was to always expect the unexpected. MJ walked into my office, carrying more boxes and a tape gun.
“How did we accumulate so much stuff in just a year?” he asked as he folded the corrugated boxes into shape.
“I don’t even know,” I said, turning around to survey the chaotic scene of half-packed boxes around the office. There would be no refuge at home, either, since my apartment was also in a half-packed state. “But I hope we can wrap this up today because I can’t stand the thought of looking at this mess any longer.”
“I’m going to stay late tonight and finish it up so I can focus on getting my own shit together,” he said, whipping the tape gun across to seal the top of a box full of books under the coffee table.
“Thanks, MJ. That would be great. I’m going to try to finish up as much as I can before I head out for my dinner.”
The move to DC had been a difficult decision, but Miki really hadn’t given me a choice. As the new head of both the TV and publishing division, she was eager to get her expansion plans moving. But while I appreciated her support for my ideas, which was certainly a welcome departure from DeAnna, I quickly found out that woman had only one speed: Go! Within two weeks of our conversation during which she announced that she was taking over our publishing unit, she asked me to present to her and the board my plans for the DivaDish brand. Within a week of my pitch, I officially got the green light to move forward.
I was excited about the prospect of leading the charge to develop the Diva brand and had decided I needed to be in DC for at least the next six to eight months to get DCDiva launched. I would take the shuttle back and forth to New York as necessary to continue to oversee the magazine and DivaDish.com. It was going to be a huge challenge, but finally I had the opportunity to fully run my own business without worrying about the meddling hands of someone like DeAnna or the sneakiness of someone like Kris Kensington throwing me under the bus. Office politics had never been my thing, and I looked forward to focusing on doing my job and not having to worry about my colleagues trying to stab me in the back.
The other exciting part of the expansion plans was my interest in covering another type of celebrity: politicians. In DC, the celebs were the members of the Congressional Black Caucus, DC’s black power brokers, society mavens, and the web of six-figure strategists and lobbyists that really made the Beltway work. And our initial research had shown that some of these folks were even more scandalous than the coked-up, philandering, tantrum-throwing stars we had been covering, so we should have a successful launch for our magazine and website.
And thanks to Vanessa, I was heading to DC on a high note businesswise. After she and Marcus were rescued from the warehouse last month, she had given Diva the one and only interview about their kidnapping by Diablo Negro. The exclusive account of their harrowing experience and glossy photos of the happy family in their new home in Alpine, New Jersey, had skyrocketed our newsstand sales for our bestselling issue ever, and the web tease resulted in tripling our traffic.
And while Che had done an excellent job on the story, there was one piece of information I knew I had to get from Vanessa herself.
The Midtown restaurant, Jezebel, was quiet, as the dinner crowd wouldn’t be arriving for at least another hour. I had requested an early reservation so that I could get back to my apartment to finish packing before my flight to DC in the morning. A slim hostess dressed in all black led me to a corner of the restaurant.
Seated in the roomy white leather banquette, Vanessa flipped through a copy of the new issue of the magazine featuring her cover story. She looked so happy. She was dressed in a bright berry-colored fitted dress with cap sleeves, with her hair cut into a sleek asymmetrical bob. Her face glowed with very little makeup—only a hint of gloss on her lips, some bronzer on her cheeks, and some mascara to frame her large brown eyes.
“Nice job, girl,” she said as she pushed the long side bang off her face. I leaned down to kiss her cheek and then slid in next to her.
“Nice job yourself. That issue is flying off the stands. Are you guys happy with the story and the photos?”
“Yes, everything turned out great.” She put the magazine back in her purse and gave the waiter her drink order of iced tea. I ordered a glass of merlot and perused the menu.
“So, are you all packed and ready to go?” Vanessa asked.
“Just a few things to throw in the suitcases tonight and I’ll be done. MJ is packing up what we need for the office tonight and shipping that out. Hopefully it will all be set up within a few days so we can get right to work.”
“That’s great, girl. I’m really proud of you.” Vanessa raised her glass to mine in a toast. “You’ve busted your ass, and now it’s really paying off. Cheers!” The waiter returned to the table and took our orders.
“Thanks, V. You know, I can hardly believe it, but it’s really happening. You know I love New York, but I’ve also always wanted to live in DC. MJ found this fabulous real estate agent who got me this cute little town house in Georgetown to sublet and is coordinating all the elements of the move. I can’t wait for you to see it.”
“Well, now that I’ve got you back on the East Coast, I’m not going to let you get away that easily, so I hope your town house has a guest room so I can come visit.”
“Yes, it does, but you know I’ll be in New York a couple days a week as well.”
“And is it work or pleasure that will be bringing you back to New York?” Vanessa asked coyly as she took another sip of her tea and winked at me.
“Whatever. You know you better come and bring my godson to DC to see me. Although I know you can’t do too much right now with your man taking his team to the championship.” Marcus had come back to the court with a vengeance, lighting up the boards and rallying his teammates to step up their games as well, and it had paid off. For the first time in ten years, the New York Gladiators were playing in the championship. But facing the New Orleans Dragons would not be easy.
“Isn’t it exciting? Marcus and his team are so focused right now. They are really determined to win this and bring New York
a championship.”
“That’s great, Vanessa. I’m so happy for you both. How are things going between you guys?”
“Well, you know it was hard when we had to face all the news about Kareem, Laila, John, and Diablo. I think Marcus felt betrayed by everyone and like he had been played for a fool, and it nearly cost him everything. We’ve continued to see the therapist at least once a week, which has helped, and we are both committed to making our marriage not only work, but better than it ever was.” As she continued to talk about how their weekly therapy sessions were bringing them closer together and their plans to try to have another baby after the season ended, I could see the pure happiness in her face. I hadn’t seen my girl look like that in a long time. She and Marcus seemed like they had a real fighting chance.
“I’m really happy for you, V.”
“But you know none of that would have been possible if you and Terrence hadn’t found us in that warehouse. I was never so happy to see Terrence in all my life!”
“And I was never so happy to see the three of you and Marcus when you all came busting out of that warehouse. I was scared to death.”
“You were scared? Try being carried out strapped to a chair, not knowing if bullets were going to cut you down at any moment.” Vanessa shuddered with the memory of that wild night as she dove into her entrée. “I still have nightmares.”
“I was glad you called for dinner. Now that you’re a Jersey resident, what brings you into the city this evening?” The waiter cleared our entrées, and we both passed on dessert, so Vanessa asked for the check.
“I had a potential endorsement meeting for Marcus this afternoon, and after dinner I’m meeting him at the Habitat for Humanity event at Cartier where the Glam crew will be following us all night.” Miki had convinced Vanessa that it would be a good idea to start taping the reality show as soon as possible as they rebuilt their lives after the kidnapping and Marcus led his team to the championship. Clearly that woman had the golden gift of the gab, because normally Vanessa was such a private person that I couldn’t believe she had even agreed to allow the cameras to follow them during this intimate moment in their lives.
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