The Cartel 3: The Last Chapter (5 page)

“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.

“It doesn’t feel as good as the first time.”

—Breeze

The chaos around her was overwhelming as the devastation of the earthquake displayed itself all around her. Escaping Ma’tee’s imprisonment should have brought some type of relief, but being free was overshadowed by the catastrophe that had occurred. Her bruised and cut up body was nothing compared to the dead bodies that littered the streets, decomposing before her terrified eyes. The overwhelming heat mixed with the smell of death in the air caused her insides to erupt. She had thrown up so many times that she had lost count, and with no clean drinking water in sight, she had nothing to replace the energy that was leaving her body. She could barely breathe because the stench was so horrifying. She had never yearned for home more than she did at that moment.

Her heart raced every second because she did not know what to expect next. The unstable ground beneath her threatened to crack every time the earth shook. How had she come to be so far away from the safety of the Diamond mansion? Her life had been a living hell, and Mother Earth was taking no prisoners as it destroyed everything in its path. The people of Haiti had just had everything stripped from them, and Breeze was amongst them. The little bit of hope that she had left had been buried underneath the rubble. She was going to
die in Haiti. What Ma’tee did not finish, Mother Earth surely would.

As Breeze lay on the blood-stained cot out in the open sun, it felt as if she were baking alive. Her light skin had burnt badly, causing her open wounds to crust over with infection. It was so hot that the vision before her eyes was hazy, as if steam was rising from the cracks in the ground. Circumstances had never been so dire. Breeze’s survival was out of her hands, and as the bodies continued to drop like flies around her, she silently feared that she would be next.

Breeze could barely lift her head as she watched those around her. She noticed a white woman going around with water-filled canteens. Too weak to even call out, she silently prayed for the woman to come her way. She noticed how the woman picked some of the younger ladies to follow her as she made her way through the thick crowd. It was as if the woman was looking for someone in particular.

When the woman finally crossed Breeze’s path, she reached out her arm and grabbed the woman’s leg in desperation. The woman turned to Breeze and stared down at her in sympathy.

“Please. I need water,” Breeze whispered, her eyes pleading.

“Of course,” the woman replied as she knelt beside Breeze. She motioned for the young women who followed her to halt, and then she lifted the canteen to Breeze’s lips.

Breeze greedily gulped the water, the coolness of the liquid soothing her dry insides. She closed her eyes. Nothing had ever been so satisfying.

The woman could not see Breeze’s face through all of the dirt and ash that covered it. She smiled slightly as she wiped the dirt from Breeze’s ashen features, trying to show her a friendly face amongst the debris and turmoil.

“I’m Ms. Beth,” the woman stated. “What is your name?” she asked.

“Breeze,” she responded as she continued to drink the water, hydrating her soul as much as her body.

“Breeze, where is your family?” Ms. Beth asked.

The thought of her loved ones brought tears of pain to her eyes. She had not seen them in so long. Her heart broke to pieces as she began to sob. “I don’t know. I’m not even supposed to be here,” she cried.

“Come on, sweetheart. I can take you somewhere safe,” Ms. Beth stated as she helped Breeze to her feet. Feeling a sense of trust for the first time since she had been taken away from her family, Breeze stood on her shaky limbs and joined the small group of young women as they walked behind Ms. Beth.

“Where is she taking us?” Breeze asked one of the girls who walked beside her.

“She came through here yesterday and helped a lot of people. She gave them water and food, then she took them somewhere safe. I think she works for a charity in the States. I hope that she is taking us there. I’ve always wanted to go there,” the young Haitian girl said whimsically.

“She’s taking us to the Unites States?” Breeze repeated. Her heart fluttered as visions of home flooded her mind.

The girl nodded her head, and it was all the confirmation that Breeze needed to continue to follow Ms. Beth as if she were the shepherd leading her sheep. Breeze looked back at what was left of the city of Port-au-Prince, and she was just grateful that an opportunity to get out had arisen. She had thought that she would be forever lost in the buried city, but Ms. Beth had just come to her rescue.

They walked for miles before Breeze finally saw the boat. It looked like a large military ship. The massive piece of steel that sat in the water sent shivers down her spine, and as Breeze looked on at the group of girls she stood amongst, she recognized the same glimmer of hope in everyone’s eyes. All they wanted
to do was get to a better place, to feel safe. Even though the boat was daunting, it was their only way out, and none of them was going to deny it.

Breeze’s eyes fell upon the side of the medium-sized vessel. The word
MURDERVILLE
had been graffiti-painted on the ship’s starboard side.

Breeze wanted to call her family so badly to let them know that she was alive and that she was safe. They were the first people she wanted to see when she finally made it to the States.