The Cartel 4: Diamonds Are Forever Page 5

  He took the little boy into his arms and held on to him tightly as he fought the emotion that was threatening to spill out of him. He couldn’t imagine how hard her life had been in the time he had been gone. She had buried him and had still chosen to keep his seed knowing that he would never be able to help raise him. His love and appreciation for her doubled in that moment. She was a good woman, a woman he deserved. He pulled Leena close and whispered in her ear, “Thank you.”

  “I can’t believe that you’re here. I prayed for God to bring you back to me so many times,” Leena whispered.

  “I haven’t always done right by you, Leena, and for that I’m sorry,” he said. Monroe could see years of insecurity and hurt in Leena as she stared into his eyes. He had put those things on her heart by forcing her to keep their relationship a secret. In an attempt to spare his brother’s feelings he had destroyed hers, and yet she still kept his child when she could have easily gotten rid of any memory of him. When the world had put him to rest, Leena kept him alive by giving him the greatest gift . . . a son to continue his name.

  “My son,” Monroe whispered in awe as he kissed his mini replica on the cheek. He was in a state of disbelief, but his heart had never felt so full. He wondered if his own father had felt the same way when he had first laid eyes on his own children.

  “Pack your things. I’ll be back to get you and my son tonight,” Monroe said.

  “I feel like when you walk out that door you’ll disappear again,” Leena said as she lowered her head and gasped in emotional turmoil. She knew that there was no guarantee that Monroe would end up with her, but she needed him to take charge in her son’s life. A boy needed his father, and she would fight for the chance for her son to know his.

  “There is nothing on this earth that can stop me from coming back for you. I just have to make a few arrangements. I’ll be back before you can even miss me, ma,” Monroe assured.

  Leena nodded and then took her baby from him before ascending the steps.

  Monroe gathered himself and then turned toward Breeze and Zyir. “Thank you, Breeze, for keeping her close and taking care of my son when I couldn’t,” Monroe said.

  “Of course, Money. She is a part of this family now,” Breeze replied.

  “We wouldn’t have had it any other way,” Zyir spoke up.

  Monroe turned toward Zyir, and his face soured in contempt. He gave Zyir a cold stare but didn’t acknowledge him with words. The tension placed an uncomfortable aura over the room, and Monroe scoffed and sucked his teeth in irritation as he walked past Zyir and out of the house.

  His distaste for Zyir was evident, and had he been any other nigga, Zyir would have bodied him for the disrespect. Zyir tightened his jaw, reminding himself that Monroe was his brother by law. He would have to use patience when dealing with Monroe.

  “He’s been through a lot, Zyir,” Breeze said as she rubbed her husband’s face. “Give him some time to come around. Our father didn’t like outsiders, and to him you’re a new face.”

  Zyir could see the concern on his wife’s face, and he kissed her lips tenderly. “Don’t worry yourself, baby girl. We’re all on the same team,” he said. The words were true, but he knew that Monroe didn’t see it as such and treachery from within was not an option. Zyir would cut the cancer out before he ever let it spread. He just hoped that it didn’t come to that. He made a mental note to place a phone call to Carter, to see if he could bring his newly revived brother into the fold.

  The smell of new leather permeated Monroe’s senses as he pushed his brand new Maserati off of the lot. He spared no expense when it came to the whips he pushed. He enjoyed the feel of the engine as it leapt underneath the hood while he pressed his feet on the brake, gunning the gas simultaneously. The car leapt as if it were a pit bull on a leash as Monroe floored his new toy.

  He checked his rearview mirror and saw that Carter followed him in the brand new Mercedes GL he had copped for Leena as well. Monroe was determined to establish a new life, an affluent life for his family, and Leena was a permanent part of his world now. A car and a home were the least he could provide for her. With the help of Carter’s realtor, Francesca, Monroe had found a steal on a property in a posh, secluded neighborhood of Coral Gables and a condo in Aventura. He could never have too much real estate. He would put Leena up in the large estate and use the condo whenever he needed to be closer to the action of the city.

  He pulled into his new home, opening the security gate, and drove down the long driveway until he was finally in front of the massive mansion. Carter pulled up behind him and got out of the car, approaching Money as he looked around.

  “Leena’s going to love this, Money. I’m proud of you, bro. This was a good choice for your family. It’s damn near perfect,” Carter said as he admired the lush greenery and elaborate fountain that sat in the center of the circular driveway.

  “I’ve got to pipe it out with security. Cameras, motion sensors, a guard at the front gate, the whole nine. I’m not sparing any expense on Leena and Monroe Jr.’s safety,” Monroe said. He was jumping headfirst back into the streets, which meant his family would be a constant target. He was aware that they were his only vulnerability. A smart man would remain single and bear no children. A hustler with nothing to lose was the only one who could win in a concrete jungle.

  “I’ve got a guy who can help you out. I’ll have him give you a call,” Carter offered.

  The men circled the property to check out all of the exterior features of the home. “My father made sure that I grew up in a house like this. Grand, magnificent, and most of all safe. I had no worries as a child. I want the same for my son.”

  “This is the first step and despite what you may think, you don’t have to protect him alone,” Carter replied. “Your family is my family and is Zyir’s family. He has uncles who love and care about him. So in the event that something happens to you, your family will always be protected.”

  “No offense, Carter, but Zyir is your man. I don’t know him like that,” Monroe said. “I don’t extend the same amount of confidence in him as you do.”

  Carter stopped walking. “I want to make sure that you and Zyir iron out whatever differences you have. He is my brother, Monroe, as are you, and that means you two are linked by a common thread. You just have to get used to there being someone new inside of your circle. Don’t worry. Zyir has passed my tests of loyalty time and time again. He will pass yours too, I’m sure,” Carter replied. Monroe didn’t respond as he drifted deep into his thoughts. Carter patted his brother’s back and said, “Trust me, Money.”

  Monroe nodded and slapped hands with Carter, embracing him before they went their separate ways.

  “Where are we going?” Leena asked as she sat shotgun next to Monroe.

  “Just sit back and enjoy the ride, Lee,” Monroe responded as he steered the car with one hand and held her hand with the other.

  Leena admired Monroe, watching him as he nodded his head to Jay-Z’s classic anthem, “Can I Live.”

  They drove forty-five minutes out of the city until they pulled up to her soon-to-be residence. Monroe entered a code into the keypad and the gate opened, allowing them access.

  “Whose house is this?” Leena asked as they pulled up to the front entrance.

  Monroe got out of the car as Leena looked around and watched him walk around the car to her door. He opened it and held out his hand. Reluctantly, she took it.

  “This is your house, a place where you and my son can always call home,” Monroe said.

  Leena’s hand shot to her mouth, covering it in shock. “This is not my home. This house is mine?” she shrieked in disbelief as her eyes scanned the massive gift.

  Monroe removed a key chain and held it up for her. “It’s yours, Leena, and so is that.”

  He pointed the key to the Benz that sat in front of the attached garage, and Leena couldn’t contain her happiness. She actually laughed because a smile wasn’t enough to express how much joy sh
e felt. For so long she had depended on others to take care of her. First Estes, then Breeze and Zyir. She was always dependent on someone else, and she never had a place to call home. Now Monroe was offering her something that was hers, something that she could decorate, something that she ruled. He had given her a kingdom of her own to do with what she pleased.

  “So what does this mean for us?” she asked.

  “It means that I want to take care of the ones that I care for. Things have always been complicated between us. You understand more than anyone else the sense of loyalty that I had for Mecca. Death doesn’t erase that. I still feel like loving you is wrong,” Monroe admitted.

  Leena lowered her head and shook her head at the statement. Just like that Monroe had taken her into her past. Her past of being torn between two brothers, loving them both but wanting one more. They had been like night and day.

  “Just because it’s not right doesn’t make it wrong, Money. I loved both you and Mecca. I was in love with you and your brother too. Mecca and I had a thing. We tried to make it work after you died. He helped me with Monroe. He was there when I needed him, and I loved him because he understood that I loved you too. He accepted the fact that I was, am, will always be torn between two great men. When I look at our son, I see you both.

  Mecca was high the night that he caught us. He wasn’t in his right state of mind, Money. He would have never sent bullets flying our way if he had been. He loved me, yes, and I loved Mecca. He will always have a place in my heart, but nothing can ever compare to the way I felt when I was with you. I can tell you that love has no rules, Monroe. It isn’t so black and white,” Leena said.

  Monroe nodded his head. “It’s gray,” he responded as he kissed her lips.

  Leena pulled away and peered up at him. “I won’t love you, Mecca, or anyone else in secret, Money. I’ve been down that road and I won’t do it again. I love you and I want you. I want you to live here with me and to raise our son with me.”

  Monroe stepped back from her and put his hands in his pockets. “You don’t know what you want, Leena. You say you had this do-over with Mecca . . . that you loved him and he accepted your faults. Well, let me ask you, Lee. If Mecca was still alive, which one of us would you choose?” he asked.

  Leena’s chest heaved as her stomach knotted. There was the fated question. Which brother did she love more? This was the showdown that had been postponed for years. They were airing out all of their issues—issues that had put tension between them since day one. Tears filled her eyes but she didn’t let one fall.

  “I’ve always chosen you. You just never had the courage to choose me back. You wanted me to be a private affair. You had me in the streets strutting on Mecca’s arm, but you were the one in between my legs at night! Do you know how that made me feel, Money? I felt like a plaything, like your whore,” Leena shot back.

  Monroe looked at her in exasperation. “You were never my whore, Leena. You were the classiest chick I’d ever met. The only one fiery enough to handle my hotheaded brother, but the only one beautiful enough both inside and out to intrigue me. Mecca needed you more than I did. That’s why I never wanted you to leave him. You made my brother better! You made him happy! He just didn’t know how to show you, but he always told me! My whore? Nah, you weren’t my whore, Leena. You were the love of my life, ma,” Monroe said.

  “But I never felt that you would truly choose me over Mecca. The two of you together weren’t perfect, but on the off day when you were, the entire city saw how you both shined. On those days, jealousy ate me up inside. You were his bitch, Leena. You never would have chosen me. You asked me to tell Mecca about us, but you were asking for something that you didn’t really want. If you wanted it then you would have stopped fucking with Mecca on your own. You chose him.”

  “I wanted you!” Leena snapped, feeling angry, overwhelmed, and vulnerable all at once.

  “Then prove it,” Monroe said, his voice calming.

  He pulled a black satin box out of his pocket and got down on one knee.

  Leena’s eyes widened in surprise as her tears now made a trail down her cheeks.

  “Marry me,” he said.

  Leena was speechless as she got on her knees in front of him and clasped his wrists as she looked at the flawless, princess-cut diamond and platinum ring.

  “Really?” she asked in disbelief.

  “You would make me a very happy man, ma,” Monroe replied with a charming crooked smile.

  Leena nodded her head as she smiled happily. “Yes. Monroe Diamond, I will marry you.”

  Chapter 6

  “You need to leave Miami. Disappear. If you don’t, the next time we cross paths I will cut your fucking head off.”

  —A ghost from her past . . . Mecca Diamond

  Miamor closed her eyes and retreated inside of herself as her body endured the brutal beating Fabian put on her. Physically she was present, but her mind was a million miles away. Detached from the reality that loomed over her, Miamor no longer felt the pain. Each blow was absorbed into a woman who was mentally and emotionally drained.

  This had been her entire life. Death. Destruction. She was a terrorist and out of all her years on this earth, she had never known true happiness. A killer by nature, she had been so focused on revenge, on efficiency, on the money, that she had never truly lived. Miamor was well acquainted with death and the ills of the world, but she knew nothing about life.

  Fueled by her thirst for revenge, she had hunted Mecca relentlessly, but as she sat looking into his eyes, she couldn’t help but wonder if it was all worth it. In this final moment it all felt so pointless. In a normal life he was supposed to be the brother of her future husband. They were supposed to be connected by a man they both loved dearly, but her existence was far from normal. Her world was not so black and white, but instead a shade of gray where nothing made sense to her but green and red . . . money and blood.

  Miamor’s head hung low as her chin hit her chest. Visions of Young Carter filled her mind as her soul slipped slowly away. Her heart ached of sorrow as she remembered his smile, his confidence, his energy. She recalled how it felt to fall head over heels for his undeniable charm. It was his face that kept her mind strong as her body began to fail her.

  Miamor knew that if she let Mecca into her head then she conceded defeat. He could beat her until no breath flowed through her body, but he would never conquer her mentally; she wouldn’t allow it.

  Her cunning wit was what separated her from the average chick. She had always been able to outthink those around her. Prideful and ruthless, Miamor couldn’t be conquered, but Mecca was determined to make her break. With every vicious blow that Fabian dealt, she forced herself to take it. Her body was painted in red as if Basquiat himself had used her as his canvas. Blood flowed from her wounds like water as the irony of her impending death haunted her.

  Mecca stood in the background watching intensely as Miamor was tortured slowly. The average man would have given into the pain by now, but Mecca could see in Miamor’s eyes that she would not give up her life easily. She didn’t want a quick death. She wanted to feel until she couldn’t feel anymore.

  For the first time ever, Miamor was realizing how valuable life was. She was saddened that her value had been wasted. The way that she had led her life would not earn her a spot in paradise. Her eternity would be spent in hell, and it was a fate that she feared.

  A tiny voice inside of her told her to beg, plead, and bargain for her life, but the killer she had become wouldn’t allow it. She was overdosed on pride and refused to ruin the hood legacy that she had built by dying on her knees. She had lived by a code that only a murderer could understand. When the streets recounted her story, she wanted them to speak the truth. She was ruthless and calculating, even when staring into the eyes of the Grim Reaper. No one, not even Mecca Diamond, had been able to break her. Miamor was the greatest to ever do it, and she refused to let Mecca take away her power.

  “You fucking heartle
ss bitch,” Fabian seethed through gritted teeth as he pulled her head back. She felt the cold kiss of the gun as it met the back of her skull, and tears involuntarily welled in her eyes. Fabian’s finger danced on the trigger. There weren’t many people who could kill without remorse. It was a specialty that Miamor and Mecca had perfected.

  “Put the bitch down and get it over with. I’m bored with this shit,” Mecca stated, his voice sending chills of hatred up and down Miamor’s spine. “Fuck you waiting for, nigga?”

  Fabian looked up at Mecca, the unsteady grip on his pistol giving away his uncertainty as his hand shook slightly.

  “You still scared of this bitch? She’s tied up and you the one with the gun, but she still got you shook? Pull the fucking trigger!” Mecca ordered, shaking his head in disgust.

  Fabian stood, his lean torso shaking as his bottom lip trembled in uncertainty. “I . . . I . . . can’t,” he admitted.

  BOOM!

  Without warning, Mecca sent a bullet through Miamor’s shoulder.

  “Aghh!”

  “Fuck you mean you can’t?” Mecca barked at Fabian. “See, it’s simple.”

  BOOM!

  With precision he sent another shot in Miamor’s direction, this time hitting her midsection.

  “Aghh!” she howled through gritted teeth as she balled her fists tightly. The bullet ripped through her organs, making it feel as though she were on fire.

  Fabian backpedaled until his heel hit the bottom step of the basement. He was in over his head. Fabian dabbled in the streets every now and then, but he wasn’t major. He had never led the lifestyle that Mecca had and knew nothing about this heartless side of the game. Revenge had sounded so sweet, but when it came down to it, Fabian couldn’t put in the work. As Miamor gasped for air, Fabian shook his head back and forth. Jailhouse blues filled his soul as he became overwhelmed by the possible consequences of his actions. Suddenly, he wanted no part of this murderous plot.