La Bella Mafia (13 page)

“Then that's all that matters,” he said.

 

 

Miamor looked over at Carter and smiled. He gave her a wink causing her to blush as they sauntered through the desert atop of the humps of brown camels, wearing all white. Monroe rode in front of them and Zyir behind them. The day was slowly slipping away as the sky transformed from blue to beautiful mixtures of orange and red. The tan sand dunes around them served as the only backdrop. Dusk was upon them and happiness was in the air.

Leena rode last. She was carried on a canopy-covered platform, escorted on the shoulders of four men. Her identity concealed as they made their way into the desert where her wedding ceremony awaited. She couldn't believe that this was happening and so suddenly at that. She peered out of the canopy to see the imam, who stood patiently, waiting for them to arrive. Although she wasn't a practitioner of Islam, the Muslim religious leader, was the only option. There wasn't enough time to fly her own priest out so she would be wed under the blessings of the Muslim tradition. Her heart beat out of her chest. She was nervous but nothing about her was unsure. The connection that she shared with Monroe was incomparable to anything that she had ever felt for another human being. Their friendship was deep like a bottomless ocean. Not even they had explored all of its depths and secret places. She looked forward to embarking on the journey of intimacy together in the years to come.
Damn, I'm about to become someone's wife,
she thought. A few tears built up in her eyes. She had never been a princess. She didn't know what it felt like to be entitled, to be royalty. Her entire life she had always dreamt of the day that her prince would come. The reality was so far from the dream that it made her emotional. She always envisioned marrying into a traditional family. She imagined baking cookies with her mother-in-law or giving corny sweaters to her father-in-law for holidays and birthdays. Monroe's family was incomplete however. His mother, his father, and Mecca were pieces to the family puzzle that would forever be missing. In a perfect world, they would have been front row at the wedding but today their absence was blatant. She could only imagine how hurtful that was to her man. She wiped her eyes. She didn't want to ruin her flawless make-up or put a damper on the day but she couldn't help but wish that they came from a more traditional world. A world where street wars and chaos didn't exist. She let the fabric close and took a deep breath as she felt the four men who acted as her carriage, stop moving.
This is it,
she whispered. “You're about to be Leena Diamond,” she whispered. Leena knew how big of a responsibility came with the name. Carter Diamond's children had been raised to believe that diamonds were forever. The name rang bells in the streets of Miami. She was about to take on the legacy of another man . . . of her husband, and while it was one of the most joyous things she had ever felt, she also felt overwhelmed. She realized that she was about to make this thing official and that there was no turning back. Once she was in, she was in and the only out was death. Leena wondered if she was making the right choice. Their love wasn't perfect, but life was not a fairytale. It was time for them to solidify as one. She couldn't ask for a better mate. The curtain opened and she stared into the eyes of Zyir.

“Hey Lee,” Zyir greeted with a smile.

“Hey Zy,” she replied with an equally dazzling grin. She was a woman in love and it showed. She was truly glowing on this day.

“You ready?” Zyir asked.

She nodded. “Doesn't feel quite right doing this here without Breeze and the babies. My parents,” she admitted.

“Right now all that matters is that you and Money are here. Everyone else is just extra,” Zyir schooled as he extended his hand.

Leena placed her hand in Zyir's. For years he had acted as brother to Leena and uncle to her son. He was truly loyal and Leena was glad that he was there to escort her to her awaiting groom.

“Here goes nothing,” she said as she beamed while Zyir reached up and lifted her into the air before placing her on her feet. Her Carolina Herrera dress was long, made of soft silk. It was simple. No poof, no train; just a long flowing fabric that hugged her body just right. The thin straps held it up against her lean yet cur-vacious frame. She stood next to her Zyir as she hooked her arm within his. All eyes were on her. Carter and Miamor stood lovingly to the side while Monroe stood beside the imam. If she had any qualms before they were all erased the moment she saw his face. He calmed her soul with just one glance and she knew that it didn't matter who wasn't in attendance. All they needed was each other. That's what true love was all about. Zyir escorted Leena all the way to Monroe. A sense of peace washed over her. The closer she got to him the more her smile brightened. Zyir stopped and extended his hand to Monroe.

“Congratulations . . . family” he told Monroe with a nod.

“Thank you bro,” Monroe replied. The gestures were a far cry from the bullets that had been flying at each other the last time Leena had attempted to wed Monroe.

Monroe turned toward Leena and grabbed her hand as they stepped in front of the imam. Her fingers merged with his as if they were two pieces of one puzzle coming together. They turned to one another as electric compatibility sparked through them. The imam cleared his throat and began speaking in Arabic. The English translator who stood behind him brought clarity to his words.

“We stand here under the laws of Saudi Arabia and the blessings of Allah to join this man with his first wife. The couple has requested to recite their own vows as they enter into this union,” the translator expressed.

Monroe stepped toward Leena closing the small space between them as he gently caressed the side of her cheek. His eyes drank her in, admiring her. “You've never looked so beautiful,” he said. He was overcome with emotion as he peered at his bride and she could see tears accumulating in his eyes. She wiped them away for him as he began his vows. He pressed his head against her forehead as he cupped her face and closed his eyes. He was visibly overwhelmed. “No woman has ever given me what you give me Lee. I promise to protect you and keep you well because when you are safe, I feel whole. When you hurt, I hurt, and I promise to never do anything to hurt myself. You give me a reason to breathe Leena. You're the air in my lungs. You fill my spirit. You steer me straight and bring morality to the world of wrong that I live in. You have intrigued me from the first day I met you. I promise to never let that intrigue die. To always reinvigorate our love and keep it fresh as the years go by. I promise to appreciate you, to nurture you, to support you, to honor the woman that you are. I will cherish you and walk with you faithfully. I vow to never burden your spirit with disloyalty. You have my fidelity until the day that my body fails me and I am no longer of this world. Even still my spirit will always walk with you. I will forever love you ma, from day one until the death of me.”

Leena was filled to capacity with joy. His words were so heartfelt and unrehearsed. They weren't perfect, but they were Monroe. They symbolized everything that embodied the man he was and she loved them. No vow had ever sounded so sweet. His words sent the sentiment of love into the air.

Leena's mouth fell open. At a loss for words, her tears finally freed themselves. It was his turn to wipe hers away. “I don't know how to follow that,” she said overcome with a small chuckle, causing Monroe and everyone witnessing the ceremony to laugh and erupt in applause.

“I'm simple Lee. You know what I need to hear,” he whispered while gazing lovingly at her.

“I will love you,” she whispered. “I vow to love only you until I die.”

“That's my girl,” Monroe said with a coy grin. “That's enough. That's all I'll ever need from you. I've got the rest.” He turned to the imam and nodded his head.

Again in Arabic he spoke as the translator assisted. “By the powers given to me by Allah, you may kiss your lovely bride.”

Monroe's lips graced hers so delicately that she melted into him. They were now husband and wife. A new family, a subsidiary of The Cartel, had just been forged . . . not by blood, not by money . . . but by love.

Monroe and Leena were surprised by the elaborate reception that had been paid for and gifted to them by Baraka. Although they didn't know most of the guests there, they partied all the same. There were belly dancers, and flame spitters, and more presents than they could possibly open. The day couldn't have been more perfect, but as it wound down, they all knew that sunrise would bring about a new era. Carter sat alone at the bar as he watched Breeze dancing drunkenly on the floor with Miamor. The two women looked so carefree . . . genuinely at peace, even if it were only temporary. Carter knew that they both deserved for this feeling of contentment to be permanent and he vowed to give it to them, especially to his lovely Miamor.

“So that is your girl friend?” Yasmine said as she slid into the barstool next to his.

Carter smiled. “That's her.”

“Looks average to me,” Yasmine commented as she sipped from her champagne glass. She was obviously irritated and slightly intoxicated, equaling a loose tongue.

Carter smirked as he removed her champagne flute from her hands. “I think you've had enough,” he said. “You're talking reckless. Besides, green doesn't look good on you ma. You're bigger than that.”

Yasmine cut her eyes at him playfully. “Everything looks good on me Carter, even nothing, but you know that already, don't you?” she asked seductively as she rolled her eyes and walked away, clearly pissed.

Zyir and Monroe approached him next as they all watched Yasmine make her exit. “You better be careful with that one bro,” Monroe said.

“And you better reign her in before Miamor catches wind,” Zyir added.

“There's nothing to catch wind of,” Carter assured. He looked at the glass of champagne that he had taken from Yasmine and downed it.

“Just watch out for that one. She's been at your side since we got here and she don't seem too happy to find out about Miamor,” Monroe said.

“I've got it under control. Luckily this is our last night in Saudi. Tomorrow morning we will be on a plane back to Miami. We've got to be prepared for the arrest. Get your heads together. We'll be going inside for a few years. Doesn't sound like much compared to the life sentences they were trying to throw at us, but I promise you it won't be a cake walk. We'll need protection. In prison its all about numbers and reputation. I'll make sure we have that,” Carter said. “I need you two to be on the same team . . . we don't have time for division from within.”

“That's water under the bridge. We're good,” Zyir said as he extended his hand to Monroe. Monroe pulled Zyir in for a hug and Carter nodded his head.

“Good,” he said. “Kiss good-bye to our freedom for awhile gentlemen. Tonight will be the last night you'll enjoy for a long time.”

“Zyir,” Breeze whispered as she saw the caravan of black, chauffeured, SUV's pull into the gates of Leena's home. “Thank you God.” She held her nephew, little Carter in her arms. Monroe Jr. clung to the ends of her skirt. “Come on boys, your daddies are home,” she said happily. She was so eager to see them all that she could barely contain herself. When the cars stopped before her in the circular driveway she descended the steps. Miamor and Carter emerged from the first car.

“Welcome home brother,” Breeze greeted with a wide smile.

“Thank you B,” Carter replied. He reached down and scooped his son from her arms. “He looks like me,” he whispered. The infant had grown in the months that Carter had been away and now his features were clearly visible. Carter felt pure pride as he admired a mini-version of himself. It was every man's greatest desire to have a son and Miamor had given him that. He would be forever grateful to her for such an amazing gift. This little person he held in his arms was his heir . . . the carrier of his last name, of his legacy. Miamor stepped to Breeze's side and kissed her cheek. She then bent down to pick up Monroe Jr. knowing that Breeze was eager to get to Zyir. “Go get your man,” Miamor said with a wink.

Zyir emerged from the second vehicle and Breeze ran to him full speed. He picked her up and kissed her lips sensually. “I should kill you,” she whispered as tears flooded her eyes. “I really thought you were dead. Do you know what you did to me?”

“I know,” Zyir replied as he held her tightly. Nothing but love pulsed through him as he realized how incomplete he had felt without her. “I'll never make you a widow Breeze,” he promised. He moved her hair out of her face and placed her on her feet. “I love you.”

As soon as the words left his mouth they were followed by the sounds of sirens. Breeze peered over his shoulder in alarm as she saw the many police cars pulling onto the property.

“Why are they here so soon?” Monroe asked as he emerged from the car. He rushed over to his son and pulled the toddler into a warm embrace.

“Daddy!” his son shouted in excitement.

“I love you Money,” Monroe said. Tears built in his eyes because the short lived reunion was hardly enough. He had hoped to spend a few days with his son before turning himself in. “Take care of mama for me okay? You're the man of the house. Daddy has to go away for a little while longer, but I'm always thinking about you man. I'll always come back for you. You're my strong man?” he asked. His son nodded his head. Monroe knew that the young boy couldn't comprehend exactly what was happening, but he felt obligated to say all these things before he was taken away. Monroe was becoming emotional at the fact that he was about to miss the next five years of his son's life. It was a long time to miss of a young child's upbringing. This was a long good-bye and he only hoped that one day his son would understand. Leena knelt down next to them.

“Tell daddy you love him Money,” she said. She grabbed Monroe's hand as they embraced their son.

“Love you daddy,” the toddler spoke.

“We both love you Monroe and we'll wait . . . for however long it takes,” she promised.

Monroe kissed both of their foreheads and then stood to his feet. Carter and Zyir came to his side as the wives and children stepped back.

Carter handed his son off to Miamor and etched her face into his memory. He kissed her lips. “Everything will be okay. I'll be there, visiting you, writing you, whatever you need,” she assured. Carter nodded and in that moment held so much respect for her. A lot of women made the promise to ride it out but very few actually came through. He knew that this was one thing he didn't need to worry about. If Miamor said it, she meant it and suddenly he was plagued with guilt for betraying her with Yasmine. A part of him wanted to confess his sins to her but he knew her too well. She would hate him forever because while she had been back in Miami fighting for him, he had been fucking the next chick. That resentment would only grow while he was locked up and it would tear them apart. He needed her. He loved her, even when his actions spoke otherwise. Miamor would be his motivation to keep his nose clean inside. Prison was a whole new world. Once you went behind the wall there was never a guarantee that you would emerge. five years could easily turn into forever if they caught a new charge. Miamor nodded her head and blew Carter a kiss as he was taken into federal custody. It was now up to the three of them to keep The Cartel afloat and to move them into the next era.

Leena picked up her son and turned around. “I'm not staying to witness this. We're done with this street shit,” Leena said firmly. “When they get out, I want them to come home to something legit. I never want my son to see his father off to prison again.”

Leena stormed into the house as Breeze and Miamor shot each other a glance of sympathy. The two women huddled close to each other as Miamor cradled her son. It was a new day and as their men were carted away like common criminals Miamor knew that Leena was right. It was time to move forward in a different direction. It was time for maturation.