“The connect ain’t fucking with us because we got that federal eye in the sky on us.”
– Zyir
Mecca sat back in the large meeting room of the Diamond family mansion. Pretty soon it would belong to someone else. Mecca had put the beautiful property up for sale. It was too hot, and now it was time to rebuild the Diamond legacy somewhere else. Everything had been cleared out except for this one room.
He closed his eyes as his mind drifted back to the days when his father used to hold court for his head lieutenants in that very space. It seemed that his father had run things so smoothly. The Cartel of today was a far cry from the organized crime family his father had started. Now everything around them was chaos, and with Young Carter in jail, Mecca was unsure if he could fill the shoes of the leader and effectively run The Cartel.
It was no longer a family operation. Only one Diamond was left standing, and although Carter was his half-brother, it wasn’t the same. They had suffered too many casualties, and loyalty was a rarity nowadays. His father had ruled with love, whereas now Carter, Mecca, and Zyir were holding down their spot in the streets with fear.
With the spotlight of the feds shining on them, nobody wanted to deal to closely with The Cartel. The streets were talking, and word was out that Carter just might lose his case. Niggas from the bottom to the top were shook, including their coke supplier.
The sound of the foyer door opening snapped him out of his reverie, and he stood to welcome Zyir.
“What’s good, fam?” Zyir greeted as he embraced Mecca briefly.
“You tell me. How’s that paper looking?” Mecca asked.
As The Cartel’s most trusted lieutenant, Zyir’s ear was glued to the street. There was nothing that got by him. Mecca had been forced to lay low because of his beef with Emilio Estes, so it was up to Zyir to ensure that their presence remained known in the streets.
“Shit is slow. Carter’s case got everybody running scared. The connect ain’t fucking with us because we got that federal eye in the sky on us, nah mean?”
“What about the niggas that owe us money?” Mecca asked irritably. It seemed as if everything they had built was now on the downfall.
“Oh, I got that cake… believe that. Ain’t nobody skipping out on the bill, but nobody’s re-upping. It’s like niggas is cutting ties. Nobody wants to be associated with a sinking ship. Niggas only loyal when the getting is good. I mean, we still got a few men who standing tall, but I ain’t gon’ lie. Shit ain’t sweet,” Zyir informed. “With everything seized, that shoebox money running real low. Carter’s lawyer expecting another payment today, and even my stash is hurting.”
Mecca knew that things would get tight for everybody with Carter locked up. The government had frozen all of their legitimate accounts; even Diamond Realty profits could not be touched until a resolution to Carter’s case was reached. Everyone, including Mecca, was living temporarily off of whatever money had flown under the radar; but random money that had been stashed in safes wasn’t enough for men who spent it as if it grew on trees. Between the two of them, they had a little over a million dollars, but with Carter’s case eating into their finances and a paranoid cocaine connection, that large sum of petty cash was dwindling by the day.
“What time do you have to meet the lawyers?” Mecca asked.
“In about an hour. After that, I plan on checking in with Carter. I need to let him know what’s going on, and he’s been asking me to check for his chick, Miamor,” Zyir replied.
“Tell him to stop looking,” Mecca stated coldly.
“What?” Zyir questioned. “You know he ain’t gonna stop looking for her. That’s his bitch.”
Mecca removed the scowl from his face and replied, “I heard she left town, so tell him to stop worrying about a bitch. We gotta keep his mind right so he can beat this case.”
Overwhelmed and worried about the state of his family’s empire, Mecca sighed. “I’ll drop that payment off to the lawyer. You holla at Carter. Let him know what’s been going on. See what he want us to do to stay afloat.”
As Mecca watched Zyir leave, he collapsed back into his father’s chair. The throne that he had sat on for many years seemed too big for Mecca, the responsibilities of heading The Cartel too daunting for a hothead like Mecca. Mecca was built to be in the game. He was a goon, a killer, and his natural born hustle was innate, but being the leader had never been his forte. That role had better suited his twin brother, Money.
The thought of Monroe brought tears to his eyes. He had hardened himself to insanity after he had murdered his brother, but the extreme guilt that still plagued him over his actions always broke him down. On the rare moments when he was alone and had time to reflect, he remembered that fateful night, and he mourned the lost of his other half. Monroe was his only weakness-and his murder was a secret that Mecca would take to his grave.
Zyir sat across from Carter, six inches of glass separating them from one another, and Zyir felt a sense of despair on behalf of his mentor. Carter was his brother, and in a way, the only father figure that Zyir had ever had. It pained Zyir to see him confined, his usual designer threads replaced by an orange jumpsuit.
Carter had taught Zyir everything he knew about the game. Carter had groomed him for this exact moment because he understood that the game did not last forever, and once he met his downfall, he was confident that Zyir would be able to take his place.
“How you holding up?” Zyir asked as he gripped the telephone, obviously uncomfortable within the confines of the federal penitentiary. There was something about being behind those walls that terrified Zyir, despite the fact that his own freedom wasn’t at risk.
“Wipe that sad look off your face, li’l nigga. You look like you’re standing over my casket or something,” Carter joked charismatically while smirking.
Zyir loosened up a little and chuckled a bit before replying, “Just don’t feel right, nah mean? Looking at you through this glass. We working on that as we speak. Got your legal peoples working around the clock on your case.”
Carter respected Zyir for his loyalty and support. Carter wasn’t an optimist, however. He was a realist, and he wanted to prepare his little nigga for his potential conviction.
“Zy… Carter cleared his throat and rubbed his growing goatee as he stared intently at his protégé. You know there’s a possibility that this could all end badly for me.
Zyir shook his head in denial and replied, “Nah, fam. Shit is going to work itself out. Before you know it, you’ll be home.”
Carter nodded his head and didn’t press the issue further. He just wanted to put it out there. He knew Zyir like the back of his hand. He had planted the seed in Zyir’s head, and knew that Zyir would make the necessary plans just in case.
“Why hasn’t Miamor been to see me? I can’t reach her by phone. Have you heard from her?” Carter inquired.
Zyir shook his head. He hated to be the one to tell him the news, but thought he deserved to know. “Mecca heard she skipped town right after your arrest,” Zyir stated.
Carter frowned and replied, “Skipped town?” The news was disturbing to hear. Nothing about it resonated as true in his heart. His case had nothing to do with her, and he knew that the only time a bitch was leaving town was if she was running away with a bag full of money. Miamor never had access to his paper, and he had never involved her in his illegal dealings, so she had no reason to run. It didn’t make sense to him, but he knew that he was in no position to worry about her whereabouts. If and when he got out of prison, he would handle the situation; until then, he stored the information in his mental Rolodex.
After Zyir informed him of the state of The Cartel, their visit was cut short. He had a lot to think about. He had played the game for many years, and now it seemed that it had finally caught up to him. His judgment day had arrived.
Mecca emerged from the family mansion cautiously as he looked around him in paranoia. He knew that his grandfather, Emilio Estes, would not stop until his head was on a platter, and that his power was far reaching. Mecca had no idea who Estes was going to send at him, so he watched his back wherever he went. He slid into his Lamborghini and left rubber in his path as he sped off toward the lawyer’s office.
Alton Beckham was a defense attorney who had been on retainer from the very beginning. A friend to his father, Mecca knew that Beckham was Young Carter’s best chance of getting off. His unscrupulous morals and greed for money were the main reasons why he was so beneficial to his clients.
Mecca walked into his office, where Beckham’s receptionist greeted him. She stood to greet Mecca.
“Hello, Mr. Diamond. If you’ll have a seat, Mr. Beckham has another client in his office, but-”
Before she could even finish her sentence, Mecca bypassed the secretary as if she were invisible and walked directly into Beckham’s office.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Beckham,” the secretary stated as she rushed inside behind Mecca. “I told him he had to wait.”
“I don’t wait,” Mecca stated simply as he took a seat next to the client that was already sitting, with no regard for the meeting that he was interrupting.
Beckham stood up from behind his desk. “It’s okay, Tracy. Mr. Diamond is always welcome.” He then turned to his client and extended his hand. “I apologize, but I’m going to have to cut our meeting short. You can reschedule out front.” Knowing exactly who Mecca Diamond was, the other client didn’t protest before walking out of the room.
Once the office was clear, Beckham got down to business. He loosened his tie and sat back in his plush leather chair as he reached underneath his desk, pulling out a bottle of cognac. He poured two glasses and then held one out to Mecca.
Mecca smirked at the Jewish lawyer before him. “Every time I accept a drink from you, bad news follows.” Mecca was only half joking. He knew that Beckham was a beast in the courtroom, but he was a snake outside of it. He offered his expertise, but it came at a hefty price.
“Carter’s case requires more time than I previously anticipated. The federal prosecutor really has a hard-on for your brother. He’s doing everything he can in order to send Carter away. They don’t just want a conviction; they want a life sentence, and they want to make an example out of The Cartel. In order for me to prepare the best defense, I’m going to have to go up on my price.”
“Don’t beat around the bush, Beckham. The bottom line is money. How much do you want?” Mecca asked. “I brought a payment here for you today.” Mecca placed a money-filled manila envelope in front of the lawyer. “Fifty thousand dollars.”
Trusting his long working relationship with the Diamond family, Beckham did not feel the need to count it. He put it in his desk drawer and replied, “That’s a start.”
“What price will finish it?” Mecca questioned.
“Double,” Beckham responded.
Mecca did not have a problem paying the fee. It was worth Carter’s freedom, but he wanted to make it clear that if he was going to spare no expense, then Carter’s freedom better be guaranteed.
“You know, with that type of paper, you’ll have new responsibilities. I will personally expect more from you. You accepting that type of money tells me that my brother will walk. Things could turn out real bad for you if you don’t live up to these expectations. You understand?” Mecca asked boldly.
Beckham was well aware of who he was dealing with, and he knew that by charging The Cartel double for their leader’s defense, he was playing with his own life. If he lost, the consequences would be devastating for him, but greed outweighed his reason. “I understand,” he replied as he extended his hand.
Once Mecca accepted it, the new deal was done. Getting Carter out of prison would not be cheap, but it was worth it, because only Carter had the foresight it took to get The Cartel out of its slump. He could re-establish their cocaine connection. Once Carter was out, everyone would eat again, and the balance of power would be restored.
Mecca emerged from the attorney’s office and removed his car keys from his back pocket. When he was halfway across the street, he hit the remote starter on his keychain.
BOOM!
Glass and metal flew everywhere as Mecca’s car exploded, knocking him from his feet and sending him flying backward onto the pavement.
“Oh shit!” he yelled out in panicked alarm as he scrambled to his feet and backpedaled away from the blaze. He looked around in bewilderment as flames engulfed his five-figure car and a crowd began to draw around him. “Fuck!” he yelled as he put his hands on the side of his head. He knew that only one person would have the balls to come after him-Emilio Estes-and as he looked on in pure rage, he knew that this was far from being over. His grandfather would not stop until he put Mecca in a grave-right next to his twin brother.
Leena sat in the opulence of the oceanside villa that was now her home. She could not believe that her life had come to this point. She had played a dangerous game by falling in love with two brothers, and the end result had proven deadly. She could still feel the ache where Mecca’s bullet had penetrated her, but it didn’t hurt nearly as much as the fact that she had sparked a beef between two brothers.
She had created a divide between two men who should have been inseparable… impenetrable… invincible, but because of her, everything had been torn apart.
She smiled as she looked at her child, Monroe’s only son, as he sat playing quietly on the floor beneath her feet. The only living seed of the late Monroe Diamond sat so innocently, so unaware of his status. He was the heir to so much power and money. Her son was a Diamond, and it was that fact that kept her safe. It kept her alive. It had made her untouchable.
She had been whisked away from the hospital to this world of luxury. She had been there for over a year, and now she sat eating nervously, silently, across from Emilio Estes, the man who had made it all possible. Her child had given her access to the throne, a throne so much bigger than she had ever been appointed.
The Dominican born Estes was more powerful than anyone she had ever met, including the Diamond brothers. He was their grandfather, and now he was her provider.
As she picked at the chef-prepared meal before her, she kept her eyes on her plate. She could feel the power emanating from him all the way across the table. He intimidated her; there was a mysterious nature to him. He was a man of few words, and during the time that they had spent together, he asked more questions than he ever answered. He observed her, and although she felt sheltered around him, she still feared him.
What does he want from me? Why am I really here? she asked herself.
He insisted that she stay with him, but in spite of the time that she had been a guest in his house, she still did not know him. Estes spared her nothing and lavishly showered her with gifts. She was his unspoken possession, one that was well kept and polished. He had expressed his interests in her by giving her material things and security. He ensured that her every need was attended to, but for Leena, love was elusive. She knew that she could never give Estes what he sought.
He kept her around as the lady on his arm, but the only reason she allowed him to was because she had no other choice. How could she turn down the man who had taken her in after she had been shot? He had nursed her back to health and saw her through her entire pregnancy. He had treated her well, and because of this, she felt indebted to him.
“What is it that you want from me?” she asked as she finally mustered the courage to look up at him across the long dining room table.
He was reading the daily newspaper while sipping coffee, and he took his time before he acknowledged her question. Her stomach was in knots as she watched him. He always moved in his own time, and his silence caused her heart to gallop in anxiety.
“I just want you to care for my great-grandson. That’s all I require of you,” he replied without looking up from his newspaper.
“That’s my responsibility as a mother. I understand that you want your great-grandson to be here with you, but why am I here?” she asked.
“I hoped that you would allow me to share in his life with you. I told you that my lineage would always be taken care of. You are the mother to my grandson’s first born. Monroe would have taken very good care of you if he could have. In his absence, I plan to ensure that you want for nothing; that my great-grandson wants for nothing. I have become very fond of you since you have been here. I know that you are reluctant to return my affections, but you are young, and your heart is still broken from losing Monroe. In time, I hope that your heart will warm to me.”
Leena nodded, but could not find the words to respond. Her emotions were so mixed when it came to her situation. She was more appreciative than anything. He was so kind and so generous, but she could not help but to walk around on eggshells.
To be in the presence of a man so great would take some getting used to, but Estes had already established that he wanted her around, and she was silently relieved to have his support. In honesty, she was still afraid of Mecca. She knew that he had cared deeply for her, and her betrayal had pushed him over the edge. He did not know that she had survived, and she was afraid that if he ever found out, he would finish what he started. By choosing to be with Estes, she knew that Mecca couldn’t touch her, and that alone was reason enough for her to stay, despite the fact that her heart was not fully invested.