The Cartel 4: Diamonds Are Forever Read online

  She closed her eyes and composed herself, taking a deep breath. She had no right to ever raise her voice, not with Carter. He was a victim of her betrayal. She lowered her voice to just above a whisper as she continued. “That’s what started it all. What was I supposed to do, Carter? I kill. That’s all I’ve ever known.” She raised her hands and looked at them; although they were clean, in her mind they were covered in blood. “I’ve taken more lives than I can count. It’s who I am, and your brother took my sister from me. So I did what I do best, but then you happened. We happened.”

  Carter smirked sarcastically and said, “Big coincidence.”

  “It was, Carter,” Miamor replied, breathless because her heart was beating so intensely. “I didn’t mark you. Meeting you was the best thing that has ever happened to me and it was not planned. You weren’t on my shit list. What we had was the realest thing I have ever known. I’m in love with you, Carter, and I need you to save me from myself,” Miamor sobbed.

  Carter’s grip loosened around his gun as she melted his resolve for vengeance. His eyes were focused on the nape of her neck where delicate tendrils of curls lay perfectly against her skin. Anger surged through him like an electrical current, but he couldn’t will himself to pull the trigger.

  He lowered his gun and wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, burying his face in the crease of her neck. It was at that moment that her legs gave out as she wept. Carter lowered her to the ground and kissed the back of her neck while her sobs of regret filled the room. They both were being smacked with the reality of the mistakes that they had made.

  “If you can’t forgive me just kill me, Carter, because I can’t live without you. I’ve tried and it’s too hard,” Miamor cried.

  Carter tossed the gun out of arm’s reach and held her tightly. She leaned back against his chest and allowed herself to become weak as he rocked her slightly. They sat in the middle of his extravagant foyer, clinging to each other desperately, because neither of them knew how long this moment would last. There was so much deception between them that love could transform into hate within the blink of an eye, and when it did, Miamor would have no one to blame but herself.

  She felt him lift her from the floor and she buried her face in his chest as he carried her up the stairs. When they reached one of the rooms, he stopped and placed her on her feet.

  “Look at me,” he said, his voice steely and despondent, yet commanding.

  Miamor could barely look Carter in the eyes, but upon hearing his request she lifted her head.

  “Take a shower and meet me downstairs. We have a lot to talk about,” he said.

  Miamor nodded her head and then retreated inside the room as he walked away from the door.

  Carter’s head was so clouded that he didn’t know if the choice he was making was right or wrong. He wasn’t a man of indecision, but when it came to Miamor he was stuck. He wanted her in the worst way, but with a ruthless history like the one she possessed, how could he ever trust that he wouldn’t fall into her crosshairs? Love hadn’t stopped her from betraying him before. He couldn’t trust her, but it didn’t stop him from wanting her by his side all the same.

  Tears stung the lids of Miamor’s eyes as she stood under the steaming hot water with her head hung low. She wept, biting her bottom lip to stop her cries from being audible. Her chest heaved and her mind spun. The slightest sound caused her to jump as she pulled back the shower curtain in paranoia. She half expected for her brains to be blown out while she washed her body. A seasoned killer, Miamor knew that the most convenient place to murder someone was in a bathtub. That way all the blood and evidence could be easily washed down the drain. To her surprise no Grim Reaper stood waiting to deliver her fate.

  Miamor quickly stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in a towel. Wiping the condensation from the mirror she stared at herself. Miamor silently condemned the woman who stared back at her. She didn’t deserve Carter’s forgiveness. Anything less than a bullet to the head would be generous of him.

  Her sixth sense told her to run, but her heart kept her still. Miamor was tired of running in the opposite direction of the love of her life. She wanted to run toward Carter—more importantly, beside him.

  She wiped the tears from her red and swollen eyes, then exited the bathroom.

  Warm colors decorated the large master bedroom. This was home to Carter, and she had never thought she would be welcomed into his life again. Just being in his proximity made her feel lightheaded, grateful, and terrified all at the same time. She quickly dressed, throwing on one of Carter’s button-up shirts, then hesitantly made her way down the stairs to meet her fate.

  Carter stood in the dining room staring into the flickering fireplace as the amber flames danced and crackled before his eyes. Although his back was to the entryway he immediately felt Miamor’s presence when she entered the room. He sucked in a breath and held it for a brief second before releasing it along with the tension that burdened his shoulders. Turning toward her he stared, coldly, in confusion. Carter had been through a lot, had seen a lot, had lived a lot, and no one had ever affected him the way that she had. Her disappearance from his life had cut him deeply, but her reemergence was like salt to a bleeding wound. It burned.

  “Carter,” she said with a hint of desperation in her tone, and in an instant he was across the room, standing in front of her. His hand wrapped around her fragile neck, and his body weight pushed her against the wall. His powerful presence humbled her, and standing before him she felt small, like a chastised child who was awaiting punishment for a bad deed.

  Miamor breathed erratically. He could snap her neck easily, take her life in a split second and get his revenge for the things that she had done. Somehow she knew he wouldn’t, or rather, he couldn’t.

  “Carter,” she repeated. She had thought of him often over the years, but had never dared to speak his name. The syllables felt odd falling from her lips. He had been a memory for so long, someone she was supposed to let go of and forget, but he was such a prevalent force in her life that she couldn’t. His face haunted her dreams every night.

  He caressed the side of her cheek. He was weak and vulnerable to this one woman. The street code that he lived by wasn’t complex enough to analyze his current predicament. To love a woman like Miamor was dangerous, but to not love her was torture. The hate dissolved from his stare, and against his better judgment he kissed her. His full lips covered hers as their tongues did a slow, seductive tango. Carter pulled her lips into his mouth roughly, passionately, pouring his wanting into her as their bodies pressed together.

  She could feel how much he missed her and she creamed her panties thinking of the way he used to slow stroke her. Miamor’s heart was stuck on Carter, and there had not been another man for her after him. His shoes were too large to fill, and as his hands gripped her face she knew why. They were designed for one another. Carter couldn’t kill her if he wanted to.

  His hands moved south from her neck to her collarbone, discovering her breasts, and eventually finding the wetness that flowed between her thighs. His fingertips awakened her nerve endings, causing her nipples to harden and her thighs to clench together in anticipation. He groaned as his own erection swelled. He roughly lifted her off her feet and she wrapped her legs around his waist. She reached down, her fingers fumbling as she pulled at his belt and unbuckled his designer slacks. They moved with intensity; with the passion of star-crossed lovers who had been deprived of one another. Four years was a long time to be disconnected from the one you craved. Carter had an insatiable hunger that only Miamor could fulfill.

  Miamor gasped and her mouth fell open in pleasure as his thickness parted her southern lips. He filled her up and made her breathless as he discovered the deep valleys of her womanhood. Miamor’s brows dipped in pleasure as Carter handled her roughly, taking out his frustrations as he hit the back of her pussy. His rhythm was slow, but powerful as he fucked her deep, long-stroking her into a frenzy as she creamed a
round him.

  “Carter,” she gasped.

  His mixed emotions caused him to handle her differently. He wasn’t as gentle as she remembered. He was punishing her love box, and Miamor loved it as she arched her back and brought her hips forward to match his stroke. Her shoulders balanced on the wall as Carter ripped open her shirt, revealing her perky breasts. Her nipples were hard, rippled, and Carter palmed one breast, rolling her nipple gently between his thumb and index finger.

  Miamor’s head fell back and her eyes followed suit as they rolled in the back of her head. Ripples of ecstasy flowed through her body as Carter sexed her into an orgasm. It quaked her body from head to toe as she held him tightly.

  He buried his face in the groove of her neck, planting gentle kisses on her delicate skin as he felt the blood surge to the head of his dick. She felt his nut building. The strong veins that ran through his shaft pulsated inside of her, and Miamor clenched down on him, as she wound her body slowly, grinding her sex into him. Miamor had beaten Carter to the finish line, but she was determined to make him catch up.

  Carter gripped the back of her hair and pulled her neck back slightly, taking complete control over her. Their sweaty bodies grinded harder. Faster. Harder. Miamor exploded again. She squirted all over him, and her wetness caused Carter to release. He came so far in her belly that she screamed his name and clawed at his back before finally letting the wave of ecstasy wash up on the shore.

  Spent, Miamor rested against the wall as Carter leaned into her, breathing erratically, heavy as their foreheads met. He cupped her face with one hand and her knees went weak as she stared into his pained eyes.

  “Forgive me,” she whispered, their lips only inches apart.

  Carter shook his head from side to side, closing his eyes as he memorialized Mecca in his mind. Could he possibly pardon her?

  “Look at me,” she said, her voice small and distressed. He did as she asked. “Forgive me, Carter.” She could see the inner battle that he was fighting in his mind. To trust her or not, that was his dilemma.

  He cleared his throat and stood upright as he sniffed and flicked his nose quickly, gathering himself. He adjusted his clothing and shot her a look that was filled with disappointment. He walked over to the fully stocked bar and poured himself a glass of expensive cognac. He wasn’t a drinking man, and he usually gave himself strict limits. He indulged in nothing that had the ability to affect his reasoning, besides Miamor. She was his only vice, the addiction that he couldn’t quite kick. But tonight he needed something to take the edge off.

  He shook his head and stared at Miamor from where he stood. He scoffed slightly, thinking of everything that she had done, all the lies that she had told him. Holding his glass in his hand, he extended his pinky finger and pointed at her mockingly.

  Miamor stood still as she let him go through his emotions. She was afraid to speak, because she knew that nothing she said could make things right between them. Carter brought the glass to his mouth and in one swig he downed the rest of the Louis and then tossed the crystal glass against the wall nonchalantly as he walked out of the room. Miamor flinched when it shattered into a thousand pieces against the wall. She didn’t call for him. She simply stood there devastated as she thought, He’ll never look at me the way he used to.

  Defeated, she walked over to the shattered glass and began to pick up the pieces, wishing that her life were just as easy to clean up. Overwhelmed, she collapsed against the wall and cried out tears of regret. Part of her wished that she had never met Carter Jones. Then she wouldn’t be so lost and stuck in such a dark place. Whoever said that it was better to have loved and lost obviously didn’t know her story. To lose a love like Carter’s hurt tremendously and would surely fill her days with regret as long as she lived. No one understood her plight. The game had her loyalty and she was in it to win it, but since the moment she saw Carter across a crowded casino, he seized her heart.

  Suddenly, Carter reentered the room. “I want to hear it from you. I want to hear it from your lips what happened and everything that you’ve done. You’ve got to show me who you are, Miamor, because right now I have no clue,” he said. He pulled out one of the dining room chairs and motioned for her to come to him. “Sit down. Tell me your story.”

  Miamor and Carter stayed up all night as he listened to the candid tale that was her life. She left nothing out, admitting to it all, even the death of Taryn, as she spilled her guts to him. She watched as shock, anger, and sadness filled his eyes. Certain parts enraged him while others made him sympathetic. He grilled her, asking questions that he had pondered on for years, and she answered him honestly.

  It took hours for her to tell it all, but only seconds for him to decide that he loved her despite it. No one would understand the connection he had to her, but he was the boss so no one needed to. He answered to no one, and as he heard her hidden truths he realized that he couldn’t pass judgment. The same way that she had taken life, he had taken life, Mecca had taken life, and his father had taken life. It was a part of the lifestyle they led. They all had their burdens to bear and their own crosses to carry. Killing his brother would weigh down his heart for the rest of his days, but he couldn’t let Miamor disappear from his reach once again. The first time had crippled him. The second time would kill him. His only resolution was to forgive.

  As the sun rose above the clouds, Carter reached across the table and grabbed Miamor’s hand. She was emotional, frenzied, and weak as she trembled from his touch. Her red eyes met his.

  “You hate me?” she asked.

  “No,” he replied simply. He stared into her soul and concluded that she was his. Jaded past, faults, and all, she belonged to Carter. “Can you be loyal to me?” he asked.

  “I want to be loyal to you, Carter. I can be,” she replied as she lowered her gaze.

  “Look at me, Mia. I want you to understand what I’m asking you because should you misstep again the consequence will be severe. There will be no more room for forgiveness.”

  She lifted her head and witnessed a glint of the devil that hibernated inside of him.

  “Yes, I can be loyal to you,” she said.

  He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “Then welcome home.”

  Chapter 3

  “You’re in Miami, bitch, and mi familia quisiera matar tu . . . lentamente.”

  —Breeze

  “Look at what you did to me!” Breeze screamed as she stood over Illiana, the woman who had almost taken her life. Her shirt was open and a long scar ran from her sternum to her navel. It bubbled gruesomely and its red hue stood out against her bright skin. It was the only imperfection on the perfectly pampered Diamond princess. It was her war wound, a reminder that she had been involved in one of the worst street beefs that Miami had ever seen.

  “It suits you. I just wish I had cut a little deeper; then you wouldn’t be standing here right now,” Illiana replied slickly as she spit at Breeze’s feet. Breeze looked down at the now ruined Giuseppe pumps. Breeze hauled off and slapped Illiana, causing her head to snap violently to the right. The two goons who held Illiana in place didn’t flinch as they stopped Illiana from lunging at Breeze, restraining her by the arms.

  “My family is going to kill you,” Illiana said with a sneer as she jerked against the two goons who held her in place.

  Breeze smiled mockingly and replied, “No, dear, I think you have that the wrong way around. Let me put this in a way you can understand. This isn’t Mexico. You’re in Miami, bitch, and mi familia quisiera matar tu . . . lentamente.”

  The threat of a slow death at the hands of The Cartel was enough to instill fear into Illiana’s cold heart. Her face drained of all color as she blinked away tears. Zyir stepped up and placed a hand on the small of Breeze’s back. “It’s time to go. You don’t need to see what’s about to occur,” Zyir said. He kissed the back of Breeze’s neck and she turned to face him.

  “Make it hurt,” Breeze said. She put her Burberry glasses on her face and
then walked out of the warehouse with a model’s precision.

  Illiana’s eyes followed Breeze and her temper flared. The click-clack of Breeze’s stilettos taunted her. “You bitch! You fucking bitch!” she shouted.

  Zyir nodded his head to the goons as he rolled up his sleeves patiently, his face tense and focused for the upcoming task at hand. “Hoist her from the rafters, and find me a steel pipe.” The goons dragged her away kicking and screaming. “And cover the floor in plastic. It’s going to get messy!” Illiana had almost taken everything from Zyir, and now he was going to turn her into a human piñata. He had goons to put in this type of work, but this was a death sentence that he wanted to personally deliver.

  The humid, salty air blew through Breeze’s short hair as she whipped through the Miami streets. Little Breeze Diamond had done a lot of growing and was no longer the naïve little girl her father had once shielded from the streets. Unlike most, she had seen the other side. She knew what it felt like to die. The doctors had narrowly saved her after being stabbed up by Illiana. She had coded five times before they finally put her in a medically induced coma. She had sat at a table with her dead loved ones, but it hadn’t been her time to take her seat yet. God gave her another chance at life; consequently Breeze just wanted to live. She knew that she would never be able to do that as long as Illiana breathed. The world wasn’t large enough for the both of them, so when Zyir asked her what she wanted him to do about it, Breeze put in the order of extermination. She fucked with the wrong one, Breeze thought.

  Breeze had been through too much to remain the same. Her eyes had witnessed death in too many ways and it had changed her. It made her realize the lifestyle that her father, brothers, and even her mother had led was more dangerous. They weren’t living the lifestyles of the rich and famous; they were living the life of American gangsters, and she had learned the hard way to move accordingly.