La Bella Mafia (10 page)

“Please . . .” the woman's eyes were wide and filled with tears as her bottom lip trembled.

“Look bitch let me make this perfectly clear,” Aries interrupted as she placed her gun to the woman's head. “You're going to inject Mona Lisa with a shot tomorrow directly before the race. Simple, quick, and easy. If you refuse by the time you leave the tracks little miss blondie up there . . .” Aries pointed to the picture of the woman's daughter. “and those two ugly little grandkids of yours will be dead before you get home. Don't think we can't find them. We've done this for quite some time. I assure you, we're quite good at it,” Aries threatened.

Miamor stepped up. “All you have to do is inject one shot. It'll be the easiest $75,000 you ever make,” Miamor finished. “Do we have a deal?”

The woman nodded in trepidation as her tears finally broke free and fell down her face.

“Relax. You do this and you'll never hear from us again. You don't and we'll be back, next time for blood. You tell anyone about this little visit and you'll be burying your entire family by the week's end,” Aries threatened. Miamor handed the woman a shot of a drug called Lasix. Some breeders used the drug to stop their horses lungs from bleeding while racing. It was three times the normal amount that breeders usually give their horses before a race. It would dehydrate Mona Lisa so badly that the horse would most likely die before ever meeting the finish line. Once Broome was broke and desperate, Miamor would have him right where she wanted him. It was only a matter of time . . .

 

 

Odom pulled his Aston Martin out into traffic as he loosened his necktie. The day had been long and stressful. Gathering the money that the Cartel had stacked for a rainy day had required all of his focus. He had needed to ensure that he didn't leave a paper trail that would lead him to the big house. He had set up two trust accounts, one for Miamor and the other for Leena. Because they weren't directly related to the Cartel he could create whatever financial history he wanted them to have. Since Miamor had practically lived under the grid since her teenage years, her credit was non-existent. Leena had worked in cash so her credit was neither good or bad. It was easy for him to manufacture perfect credit scores for them both. Breeze on the other hand was another story. Her family was deeply rooted in the drug game and any trust that he set up for her would have been immediately seized. Her money was placed in Leena's account for safekeeping, but he wasn't ready to hand over the key to their new fortune just yet. Odom was smitten with Leena and wanted nothing more than a shot to court her. She had accepted the dinner invitation but he knew that once she had access to her own money she wouldn't need him anymore. He needed a little bit of time to show her that a legit life wasn't so bad. His attraction was strong and he was trying to get to know her. The late night text messages that he would send her were always politely returned. His early “Morning beautiful” lines answered immediately, but always safely. He understood her hesitance. She was a new widow. Her last relationship had left her lonely, overwhelmed, and hurt, but Odom was determined to crack her. He wanted to introduce her to something new. Her consistent no's only made him more persistent. A man of the upper class, he was used to getting his way. Most women let him have his way with them with just the flash of his black card. He was attractive, successful, important, but he lacked the raw edge that Leena was drawn too. In the end when she was around him she didn't feel that familiar pulse in her pussy. Mecca had made her feel it at first sight and Monroe had made her wish she didn't. Odom knew that he had his work cut out for him, he was up for the challenge. He was hoping that the unexpected bouquet of roses he had sent over to her home would at least be rewarded with a call. He had been anticipating her response all day. He picked up his phone and saw that he had no missed calls.

“Fuck it,” he whispered to himself as he took matters into his own hands.
There's nothing wrong with going after what I want,
he coached himself.

The phone rang twice before the husky melody of her voice filled his ear.

“Hello?” she answered.

“Just the sound of that voice brings so much joy to what has otherwise been a shitty day,” he said.

“Oh really?” Leena replied. He smiled because he could hear the laughter in her voice. “It couldn't have been that bad. You had the time in your schedule to send flowers to my door.”

Odom chuckled and replied, “You're quite a distraction Ms. Devereaux. You don't quite seem like the roses type of girl, but they are beautiful all the same. I thought I'd play it safe.”

“They aren't my favorite flower,” she admitted. “But the arrangement was beautiful. Thank you. When can we expect to have our affairs in order?”

“We can arrange an affair anytime you are ready,” he joked.

“Odom . . . you are a really nice man, but I'm . . .”

“Easy Leena. Don't stick me with the fork yet. I'm not done. It was only a joke. I understand your situation. I just want it to be known that I plan to wait. As long as it takes for you to get over your loss. I'm very interested in making you mine.”

Her sigh was heavy on the other end of the line.

“Maybe I can take you to lunch. We can discuss the trust. All of the money is in two accounts. I can explain everything to you tomorrow. Maybe just maybe you will tell me your favorite flower. That way next time I know what to send. You pick the place this time and I promise I'll stick to your plans.”

“I'll think about having lunch with you,” she said after a long pause. “After we close out our business. I'll meet you at your office at noon.”

“I'm looking forward to it,” Odom said, flirtatiously.

“Good night Odom,” Leena finished.

Odom could hear the sweetness in her tone and he ended the call with a half smile, feeling hopeful. Hope quickly faded into alarm when he saw the hooded figure rise out of his backseat.

“I don't know what the fuck you smiling for playboy. That little lunch date ain't happening,” Fly Boogie retorted as he pressed cold steel against the back of Odom's neck. “You was putting all your game down too. My bosses feel that is a bit disrespectful. Slime-ball mu'fucka.”

“Look you can have whatever you want. I have money . . .”

“I don't want your money. I have a message from Monroe Diamond,” Fly Boogie said “His bitch ain't on the market.”

Odom's eyes doubled in size as he realized this goon had been sent by a ghost himself. “I meant no disre . . .”

Fly Boogie hit Odom hard against his skull causing him to wince as his head jerked forward and the car momentarily went off course.

“Pull this mu'fucka over!” Fly barked.

“Please . . .”

“Dig this,” Fly Boogie said calmly as the car rolled to a stop on the side of the road. “Tomorrow you're gonna hand over the money to Leena and cut off all communication with her going forward. If not I'm going to visit your mama out in Aventura off of Biscayne Blvd. Am I clear?”

“Crystal,” Odom replied. He didn't have to ask how Fly knew his mother's address. He knew exactly who he was fucking with. The caliber of the Cartel's reign hadn't been seen since the days of the New York and Chicago Italian mobs. The Diamond family was heavy in Miami. He didn't know what he was thinking approaching a widow of The Cartel. He had let his little head get him into a beef when in actuality he wasn't built for that life.

“Good, now get out of the car,” he ordered.

Odom stepped out of the car and out into the shower of rainfall that fell from the sky. Fly Boogie got out, gun trained on Odom.

“Please don't kill me,” Odom said calmly, realizing that he was fucking with an entirely new type of drug dealer . . . one that neither the Feds nor death could catch.

“Get on the ground,” Fly Boogie hollered as he kicked in the back of Odom's knee causing it to buckle. He fell to the wet ground, gritting his teeth and kicking himself for being so unaware of his surroundings.

“Better cut Leena loose tomorrow mu'fucka or its lights out for you,” Fly Boogie said. “Sincerely, Monroe Diamond.”

Fly Boogie climbed into the driver's seat and rolled down the window. “Ol' pussy ass nigga,” he spat an insult before pulling off recklessly. Water back splashed onto his expensive suit as he watched Fly Boogie speed away from the scene.

“Fuck!” Odom shouted as he climbed to his feet throwing his fists at the air in frustration. He had clearly fucked with the wrong man's wife.

Carter erupted out of his sleep, immediately reaching for the handgun that lay at his bedside. It was instinct for him, especially during times of high stress. He would rather pop first and ask questions later than to be caught slipping. Only this time it was only Yasmine's face he saw. Her expression was fearless and held a bit of impatience as she raised an eyebrow at him. “You're going to shoot me?” she asked.

Carter lowered his weapon and swiped his tired eyes with his hands as he shook his head to wake himself up.
What the hell was she doing in his suite?

“My fault ma. Its habit,” he said as he climbed out of the comfort of the plush bedding, exposing his shirtless body. “You don't knock huh?”

“People knock when they are guests. I own this entire property. No need for me to tip toe around my own establishment,” she replied with a smile. “I didn't mean to alarm you.”

He could see the amusement in her eyes. “I'm funny?”

She shook her head. “Not at all Mr. Jones,” she replied. “I find you quite intriguing. Men here, don't carry the same air of confidence that you do. You're . . . dangerous.” She said.

“You shouldn't sneak up on dangerous men than,” he replied.

“I happen to like danger,” she answered flirtatiously. “How did you sleep?”

“Well.”

“My father explained to me the circumstances that brought you here. I can only imagine the stress that you've built up. I've arranged something for you and the others. I think you'll find it very pleasing Mr. Jones,” she said.

“Call me Carter,” he corrected.

She nodded. “Carter,” she said. She walked up on him, standing closely as she placed a finger on his chest. “Shower, get dressed, and then follow these instructions. It's my job to fulfill your needs.”

He felt his manhood jump at the insinuation of her words. He would have to tread lightly around this siren. Images of her petite body bent over in front of him flashed through his mind, causing him to harden. It had been awhile since he had been inside of a woman. Miamor had been recovering from the delivery of their child. He had been on the run for his life. He hadn't realized how backed up he was until he felt his desire building in this moment. She stepped closer, pressing her body against his, feeling his wanting. “Hmm,” she moaned softly. “You are definitely not like the men in Saudi Arabia.”

Not one to let his little head do the thinking for him, Carter stepped back, putting room between them.

“I'll see you in half an hour. Monroe and Zyir have already received their invitations,” she said. She turned and strutted out of the room and Carter couldn't help but wonder about what was underneath the clothes that she wore. He shook his head, hoping that he hadn't just run from one problem only to bump right into another. It was obvious that Yasmine was trouble just waiting to happen. He wasn't a young man. The potential for lust didn't distract him for the task at hand. He needed to lay low and he was interested in finding out more about Baraka's business practices. He wouldn't allow a woman to get in the way of a potentially fruitful partnership. He would keep her at arm's length because he had a feeling if she ever got her hands on him, he wouldn't want her to take them off. She was a temptress but he was a man of principle. He didn't shit where he slept which meant that the beautiful Arabian women around him were off limits, especially Yasmine Baraka.

 

 

The smell of vanilla filled the air as the smoke from the lit incense floated mystically into the air. The lights were dimmed as Zyir walked into the suite, surveying his surroundings. Women were everywhere. Hedonistic, sexy, uninhibited, as they partook in various sexual activities. A magnificent spread of food was presented on a long dining table. Fruits, wines, cheeses, meats . . . it was a king's feast.

“I hope this is to your liking.”

He turned to see Yasmine enter the room with a friendly smile as Monroe followed her. “I arranged a bit of convenience for you gentleman. These harems are here to service you in any way. Your every desire, your every wish is their command,” she said.

Zyir was led away by a naked woman just as Carter walked into the room. It was a full out orgy of woman on woman action. The scent of sex lingered in the air, hidden by the musk of the vanilla fragrance. Monroe looked back at him with a raised brow. “You see this shit?” he asked. “They treat us like kings over here.”

“You are a king Money. Make sure you act like one. Take care of those who take care of you. Tip well for good service. These women work hard for their money fam,” Carter said. Paying for pussy wasn't his thing and although this was being gifted to him, he still wasn't too interested. He liked to pursue a woman, wine and dine a woman, sweet talk the panties off a woman as she tried her hardest to resist. He enjoyed the art of the chase. This wasn't his vibe. “Enjoy brother, we all could use a release. Strap up,” he warned.

He turned to leave.

“You don't like?” Yasmine asked.

“Its not my thing,” he responded.

“What is your thing?” she asked curiously. The moans that filled the air caused him to look over his shoulder. Two of the most beautiful designed women he had ever seen were feasting on one another. One of them capturing the other's swollen clitoris in her mouth, sucking gently. Carter definitely needed a stress reliever but this wasn't his idea of a conquest. These women were following orders for the sake of a dollar. They weren't his type. Physically they were flawless but mentally they were weak.

“I've got a thing for a woman with aggression,” he replied.

“Well I'll have to see if I can accommodate that?” she said. “Since this isn't your type of party, maybe you'll join me for the evening. I can show you around.”

Carter reluctantly agreed. The last thing he wanted was to offend Baraka's daughter. They were his hosts and if it hadn't been for them he would be in police custody by now. He nodded and followed her out of the room. She led him to the front of the resort and out to the valet where an armed body guard waited for her.

“I don't think I'll be need you tonight Aki,” she said to the Six foot nine inch, threatening presence. “I think Carter can protect me just fine. Although you will have to drive.”

“Why is that?” he asked.

“Women aren't allowed to drive in Saudi Arabia. I have an SUV and a driver to escort me at all times, but I thought you would like to test out my Lamborghini?”

“Your father instructed me to escort you whenever you leave the property Ms. Baraka,” her bodyguard spoke. He was a mammoth of a man and Carter didn't doubt that he provided excellent protection. His menacing looks alone would probably deter anyone from pushing up on Yasmine.

“I've got it homie,” Carter said coolly as he placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her into the car. He walked around and jumped into the driver's seat before speeding away from the resort.

“Why do you have a lamb if you can't even drive it?” he asked.

“Because I can ride it,” she responded seductively. “Big toys, fast toys, they're
my
thing. I get off on the finer things in life.” She maneuvered in her seat as if her thighs were on fire and in actuality they were. She yearned to be touched by a man like Carter. The darkness of his skin, the confidence in his stride, the smoothness in his words . . . it all made her panties wet. She wondered what it was like to be the girl on his arm, to feel his hands on her ass as she rode him slowly. Saudi men were too damned docile. She wanted a man that would pull her hair as he slid into her from the back. One who would bust his gun if another lusted after her too openly. She desired a man with swag and Carter Jones was dripping with it.

“You're bad ma,” he said with a chuckle.

“I'm so good at it too,” she replied.

He shook his head and increased his speed, feeling the horsepower of the engine. “These ain't the kind of problems you want ma, trust me,” he said, his thoughts flashing to Miamor. She was a live wire and he loved it. It was her touch, her companionship, her wit that he was craving. Even if he used Yasmine in the bedroom, she could never make up for the other roles that Miamor served in his life. Without her he felt a void . . . sexually and otherwise. He was missing his lady and it showed.

Yasmine noticed the look of concern on his face and couldn't help but to pry. “Did you leave a girlfriend behind? Perhaps a few?”

“There's only one,” he responded. “And she's not up for discussion,” he replied vaguely. He didn't want to bring Miamor into his thoughts too much. She was his weakness and he didn't want to expose that fact.

The look of pure adulation in his eyes couldn't be hidden. A man who truly loved his woman couldn't deny it if he tried. Yasmine didn't know Miamor, but she couldn't help but envy her slightly.

She's not here. What a fool of a woman to let him venture so far away from home. Especially when there is a woman like me, waiting for her to slip up,
Yasmine thought.

Yasmine guided him to the local market where rows and rows of the cities finest craftsmen set up shop each day to sell their goods. Carter stood out amongst the sea of cloaked men and women. The heat beat down unbearably on him, causing him to remove the jacket to his Gucci suit and unbutton his Oxford shirt slightly.

“I should have warned you about the temperatures,” Yasmine chuckled. “This isn't America. Its like a melting pot in this desert climate.” She removed a linen scarf from her purse and reached up to wipe the sweat from his brow. Their eyes connected and she gave him a coy smile before withdrawing her hand and leading him through the rows of vendors.

The people of Saudi Arabia flocked to him as he walked the streets. Barefoot kids ran behind him offering to sell him goods that he didn't need, or even wanting to perform tricks for tips. Carter's heart went out to all of them. He purchased from every one who stopped him because he knew that the small change he was spending meant nothing to him, but so much to them.

“America! America!” they called to him, trying to lure him over to their shops and small stands. They spotted him from a mile away. His ritzy Rolex and shiny shoes gave away his wealth. He didn't mind spreading it however. He was having the time of his life. He held babies, and shook the hands of the local men as if he were the president himself.

“They like you,” Yasmine said. She was highly impressed by the humility of this man. Not only was he a boss, but he had compassion and it only made her infatuation for him thicken.

He shot her a smile as a little boy behind him fell down suddenly. “Oww!!” his yelp was ear piercing as Carter turned his attention toward him. The kid couldn't have been older than six or seven. He had been trampled by the older ones trying to keep up. He was holding his bare, dirt covered, feet in agony. Carter bent down, resting his elbows on his knees so that he was eye level with the kid. The rest of the kids circled around the two them as Carter helped him up. “You okay li'l man? Looks like you could use some shoes,” he said. The boy looked at him in confusion and Yasmine quickly stepped up to interpret for Carter.

When the boy responded, Yasmine relayed the message. “He said his mother doesn't have money for shoes.”

Carter picked up the young kid and placed him on his back, not caring that his thousand-dollar suit was now soiled in sweat and dirt. “Tell them all to follow me,” he said.

Carter took over the streets of Riyadh Providence as he led a bunch of street kids from booth to booth picking them out whatever they wanted. He made sure that each child left with a pair of shoes.

He was so distracted by the crowd that had accumulated around him that he never saw the men that had been lurking in the distance. Saudi Arabia was known for its oil. Many households lived in extreme wealth because of the industry but in this part of the city they were surrounded by nothing but poverty. It was where the poor resided and with him coming around flaunting his money, he became a quick target. Kidnapping was the name of the game. Wives of rich men were often held for extreme ransoms and with Yasmine as his escort she was in jeopardy. As the crowd thickened he lost sight of her. It wasn't until he heard her screams of distress did he realize that something had gone drastically wrong.

“Carter!”

Her voice broke over the crowd as Carter instantly turned to look for her. He spun left then right as he pushed through the crowd. It wasn't until he broke the edge did he see her being stuffed inside a raggedy van. She was fearless as she resisted the entire time, kicking and screaming as the man tried to force her into the car.

“Shit,” he uttered as he ran, full speed back to the lambo. If he lost sight of the van there would be no getting Yasmine back. This wasn't his country, he didn't know the land or the language. All it took was for them to get away from the scene of the crime for her to be lost forever. He couldn't afford to have her abduction on his conscience. He would be solely to blame and the hospitality Baraka provided would quickly turn to hate, putting not only himself but his brothers at risk. He hopped into the car and sped off recklessly, burning rubber as he pushed the gas to the floor. Carter was sweating like a pig and he was slightly irritated. It had been a long time since someone had come at him on some rah rah shit but even though he was out of practice it was like riding a bike . . . he always remembered how to pop off. His temper flared as he caught up with the van with ease. There was no way the raggedy contraption could outrun the half-a-million dollar car. He passed the van and cut it off, stopping sideways in the middle of the deserted street. The van came to a screeching halt and before the driver could reverse in the opposite direction Carter hopped out the car and let his canon bark.