The Conglomerate: A Luxorious Tale (24 page)

             
“You love it though,” Sincere stroked his wife’s face, he then looked at Cee. “I’m sorry for your loss and I apologize for missing the funeral, but-,”

             
Cee cut him off, “Kane already explained.”

             
Cee attempted a smile, but her face muscles fought against it. Tears coated her eyeballs and stung the corners of her lids. Most times when people extended their condolences it didn’t bother her. Then there were the instances like this one when one expression of sorrow completely overwhelms her. “Thank you,” Cee said to Sincere.               “Excuse me everybody I need to go the ladies room.” The tears fell as she turned to walk away.

             
“Oh no,” Joey proceeded to follow.

             
Jason grabbed her by the arm, “that’s okay Joe, I got her.

             
“Damn I didn’t mean to upset her,” Sincere remarked.

             
“Don’t worry Sin,” Joey assured. “It wasn’t you, she’s touch and go.”

             
“She’s doing a lot better than I would be doing if I were in her shoes,” Kisa admitted.

             
“I know exactly what you mean,” Joey replied. “Kane I’m so glad that

you’re here we really need to catch up. What table are y’all seated at?”

Kisa opened her beige Evening in Versailles clutch and peeked at her gala ticket.               “We’re at table twenty-five.”

             
“Damn, we’re at seventeen.”

             
“Don’t sweat them tickets,” Zay told them.” Asaad will make sure we’re at the same table.”

             
“Okay baby.” Joey intertwined her arm with Kisa’s. “Let’s go take a peek at the auction items.” Walking away from their husbands, Joey said to Kisa, “Kane you have no idea how glad I am to see you. I need to talk to somebody and you’re the only one that I can tell everything to.”

             
“What’s bothering you?”

             
“It’s too much to go into here; we’re going to KOD’s after the gala. You guys should come with. We can talk over drinks before going.”

             
“If I wasn’t so tired, from all the overseas traveling I would go. I don’t think I’m going to make it through this gala. After the auction I may be out. Where are y’all staying?”

             
“We’re staying in one of the yachts. I would invite you over there, but I can’t have this conversation anywhere around Zay or Cee. I need to talk to you about Evan-”

             
“Oh yeah,” Kisa interrupted. “I saw her two weeks ago at Diamonds of Charlotte with Reza LaCroix.”

             
“Reza, big time coke dealer back in the day out of Hartford. He just came home from a ten year bid.”

             
“I remember him vaguely. Evan was with him?”

             
“More like all over him. We were in the same VIP section for Simone’s birthday and she was so fucked up that she didn’t even see me.”

             
“Evan?”

             
“Yes Evan.”

             
“It’s like she’s living a double life, that’s the same type of shit that’s been going on for years that she’s been keeping secret; the exact stuff that I need to talk to you about.”

             
“Well, we’re staying here at the Fontainebleau, why don’t you come there and we could have lunch at LaCote around one.”

             
“Cool,” Joey replied eyeing a rare purple crocodile Hermes Birkin bag encased in glass sitting atop a white post, valued at $85,000.

             
“This is what I want,” Kisa peered into the security glass. “Are you going to bid on it?
”



            
 
“I sure am.
”



            
 
“What if the bid gets up to eighty racks or more?
”



            
 
“Sincere is going to buy it! He owes me. He’s been dragging me around

the world with this import business he’s started and I’ve been doing most of the foo
twork.”

             
“I hear you,” Joey sighed. “The bag is dumb nice, but imagine me telling Zay to buy it for me.”

             
“He would get it,” Kisa answered confidently. “Zay could buy you ten of these at eighty grand a pop and it wouldn’t hurt him one bit.”

             
“Kane, it isn’t like that. I know Zay still got some money on the streets, but most of his income is from his legitimate businesses now.” With a screwed face Kisa asked Joey, “are you serious right now?”

             
“Yes.”

             
Realizing that Joey wasn’t playing coy Kisa said, “I know I schooled you to the game better than that. You do know what’s going on in your house? Niggas don’t rub elbows with Asaad because they have
some
money on the streets. Zay got the east coast streets locked with that boy.”

             
“Boy? Fuck outta here Zay don’t fuck with that heroine.”

             
“You really have no clue.” Kisa shook her head.

             
“I guess I don’t. You’re here so do that mean Sincere is back in the game?”

             
“No, Sin is here because his family has ties to Asaad’s family and Asaad is helping with this importing business. Let me be clear though Asaad is getting something out of it, because any favor that Asaad gives he expects something in return.”

             
Joey looked across the room at Sincere and Zay. The two old buddies were in deep conversation when Asaad came up to them.

             
“Ah two of my favorite gentlemen,” he announced with wide grin. He placed an arm on each of their shoulders.

             
Asaad was draped in a wonderfully designed black Ralph Lauren Purple Label tuxedo, and patent leather Louis Vuitton dress shoes. He was a gorgeous specimen, Afghanistan native; Asaad had smooth dark olive skin, jet-raven curly hair, a full beard, black eyes and teeth so beautiful that they looked like veneers.

             
“What are you two guys up to?” he spoke with perfect English diction not a trace of Middle Eastern dialect could be heard.

             
“Just catching up,” Sincere replied.

             
“That’s wonderful,” Asaad beamed. “Haven’t seen you two in the same room in so long I tend to forget that you know each other.”

             
“I see you’re in a comedic mood tonight.” Zay responded.

             
“Business is very good so life is good. Did Sincere tell you about his new venture into the import -export world?”

             
“Yes he was just telling me all about it. Sounds like a good thing.”

             
“It is a very good thing. It will enable us all to earn money from yet another avenue.”

             
“I’m hoping so,” Sincere said reading a text on his smartphone. “Excuse me for a minute, Butta and his fiancé are at the entrance and I have their invites.” Sincere walked off.

             
“So,” Asaad said. “Did my people help you to take of your problem today?”

             
“Yes they got it done.”

             
“Without any problems?”

             
“It was completely smooth.”

             
“I’m happy to hear that. This means we have a deal correct?”

             
“Of course,” Zay replied assuring. “I gave you my word and you know I don’t break that.”

             
“To be clear you’ll keeping running the distribution for the next year and transition Jason in to take over for you when you step down.”

             
“I’m clear on it.”

             
Asaad extended his hand and Zay took it. The two men shook firmly cementing their deal.

***

              In the dead of night, cloaked in black from head to soles, John Doe held his breath as he squatted behind a wide five foot bush on the side of a suburban two-story home. It had been a busy night for him. He’d already hit two of Zay’s stash houses.               Between the two homes, John Doe made out with five and a half kilos of heroine. Bricks of pure high grade heroine would be a major come up for any robber, but John Doe wasn’t out for a lick. There was a method to his madness.

             
Taking down the first two houses wasn’t hard because they were occupied by females, whom John Doe took down easily. The house that he was currently sitting on wasn’t going to be so easy to infiltrate. This house was the money spot. Four men rotated twelve hour shifts; two of them were in the house at all times. Unless one of them made a store or food run. Fortunately for John Doe, the two guys on the night shift were creatures of habit. They made their dinner run the same time every night. John Doe’s intention was to catch one of them slipping when they were leaving out, but he’d gotten their after one of the men had left. Now he had to wait for the return.

             
Continuing to wait on the side of the house, John Doe knew that he might have to scrap his plans to rob this spot. Timing was imperative and at any time one of the girls at the other houses could be discovered and alert the men at this home. Just as John was about to give up, headlights illuminated the house as a silver Challenger turned into the driveway.

             
Donavan— a six-foot, brown skin, mid twenty-something dude, hopped out the car with an Outback carryout bag while talking on an iPhone that he had cradled between his chin and shoulder. “Look baby you want me to fly you out here or not?”

             
Cutting across the grass he dug in his pockets for the house keys, “Ayo shorty it’s a yes or no question,” he barked into the phone. “You want me to fly you out here or not?” Annoyed by his inability to find his keys and frustrated by the female on the line, he snapped. “Aye talk to you later.”

             
He hung up the phone and dropped it into his back pocket. He sat the bag on the second porch step and pulled all the items out of his pocket. “This is some real live bullshit. I know I got the keys off the table.”

             
Donavan found the three house keys wedged between a stack of banded hundreds. Snatching the bag up, he climbed the rest of the stairs, opened the screen door, and unlocked the two top bolt locks. He pushed the key into the knob lock and turned it. Fear gripped him when he felt the barrel of the gun pressing against the back of his neck

             
Through clinched teeth, John Doe spoke, “You better not move.” With his free hand John Doe pulled a pistol from the small of Donavan’s back and tucked it in his waist. “You do any funny shit I’m going to blow your neck right off your shoulders. Now open that door real easy like.”

             
Donavan followed John Doe’s orders and they went through the door. With the bottom of his foot, John Doe pushed the door shut.

             
Isaac, the other man on shift, yelled out, “Gad God damn boy bout time you got back. I’m hungrier than a muhfucka.”

             
Keeping the gun on Donavan’s neck, John Doe spoke in a low, but authoritative voice. “Put your hands behind your back and clamp your fingers together.” Completely shook Donavan did as he was told, John Doe slid a zip tie over his hands onto his wrist, and tightened it to the point of almost cutting his circulation off. “Move,” John Doe nudged Donavan with the gun.

He walked
helplessly through the hall as sweat excreted from every pore on his body.

Perched on the edge of the couch, with 350 grand or more on the coffee table in front of him, Isaac placed stacks of green bills into a money counter and organized them as
they came out. “Yo Don it took you forever to get back, now you taking damn near as long to bring me my food. You better not be texting that bitch begging her to come see you and-” Isaac went silent when Donavan appeared with John Doe holding the toolie on him.

             
John Doe pulled the gun that he’d taken from Donavan and aimed it at Isaac.               “Don’t do no dumb shit and you’ll keep breathing,” he looked at the table. Eyeballing the money, John Doe could tell that is was a few hundred thousand. “Bag that paper up. Use that,” he pointed the gun at the soft leather duffle next to Isaac’s feet.

Coldly staring at John Doe, Isaac slowly reached for the duffle. “Hurry the fuck up,” John Doe hollered.

              Isaac grabbed it, opened it wide, and using his forearm he raked the cash into the bag. Rushing, he knocked quite a bit of the money onto the floor angering John Doe.