The Cartel 5: La Bella Mafia

“Dig deeper,” Miamor stated coldly as she stood over the two burly men that were unearthing the desert soil. Their shovels clanged loudly against the earth as their grunts filled the air. “It can’t be shallow. We don’t want any mangy coyotes coming along and digging the body up.” Miamor was livid and her heart pumped violently as her emotions went haywire. Her Cavalli sunglasses masked her watery eyes as she thought of the motivation behind her actions. She had murdered many times before. Fuck it. It was nothing for her to go boom on a nigga. She was in the business of extinction, but when business became personal it always played a tug of war with her mental.

Her judgment hadn’t been this clouded since she had lost her sister at the hands of Mecca. She had promised herself that she would never let her emotions get so tangled again, but yet here she was . . . devastated . . . heartbroken . . . confused all over again. She should have been taking her aggression out on the root of the problem. Her man. Carter ‘muthafuckin’ Jones. He was the perpetrator to the crimes that had been committed against her heart. It was he who deserved to be buried in this shallow grave but instead it was his pretty little mistress who was in her crosshairs. Miamor saw red when the blacked out SUV pulled up a few yards away, because she knew who was hidden inside. They were in the middle of nowhere . . . Thirty miles into the Mojave on uncharted land. It was an unofficial graveyard. Many a mobster had held court in these deserted lands. There was no telling how many bones were buried beneath the hot sands. Miamor was about to host a funeral and the guest of honor was a Persian bitch named Yasmine.

The most dangerous thing in the world was a woman scorned, but a Miamor scorned was deadly. No one had seen the kind of damage that Miamor could do. She hadn’t had to deal with groupies in Miami. Carter had always walked a straight line. Their love story had been so complicated that he hadn’t found the time to entertain anyone but her. Even during her absence from his life he had remained true, but Yasmine . . . Yasmine had distracted him. She had seduced Miamor’s man and there was a price to pay for that. The bitch clearly doesn’t know who she’s fucking with, Miamor thought, her temperature rising as she stalked across the desert. She was heated . . . not from the sun that blazed down on her, but from the hatred that burned in her heart. As an unsuspecting Yasmine climbed from the backseat of the car, Miamor approached.

“What the hell is the meaning of this?” Yasmine asked.

Miamor was feminine as ever in designer clothes and five-inch heels. She hadn’t anticipated getting too dirty. She had men who followed orders at her discretion now. When she wanted someone to bleed, it never dripped on her shoes now. But this bitch Yasmine was a bit too pretty for her tastes. The smug, entitled, expression she wore irked Miamor to the point where she couldn’t stop herself from slapping the taste out of her mouth. Before she could stop herself she struck her violently and muscled her to the ground. Miamor’s vice grip on Yasmine’s jet black hair caused the girl to scream in alarm as she tried to tear Miamor’s hand from her scalp. Sweat started to form on Miamor’s forehead as she spoke through gritted teeth. “There are plenty of men in Vegas. You should have chosen somebody else’s,” she said. She didn’t even care about getting her hands dirty anymore. When her temper flared it took nothing less than murder to calm her down. She was on ten, it was too late to be rational now. She pulled Yasmine through the desert, destroying along the way, the all white dress that the girl wore.

“Agh!!” she screamed as she clawed at Miamor’s wrist while kicking her legs violently as she tried to break free.

Miamor mustered strength that she didn’t even know she had and she didn’t stop until she had pulled her from the car to the hole that was now complete.

As soon as Yasmine laid eyes on the ditch, terror filled her. She turned to Miamor. “Do you know who I am? You can not get away with this!”

Miamor smirked as she shook her head incredulously. “I know exactly who you are. You’re nobody. You live off of your daddy’s name to get by. You think because you’re a pampered little bitch from Saudi that you can do whatever you want, but you made one mistake. You didn’t know who you were offending. You didn’t check my resume. You see me in the casino in my fancy clothes, prancing around as Carter’s arm accessory and you got me confused. You thought I was just a wife . . . just a mother perhaps? You didn’t do your homework. Should have checked my resume.”

“Please! You can have Carter . . .” the girl began to plead.

“Bitch I already have Carter. There ain’t a woman alive that can take Carter away from me. I own that nigga. That’s my dick, my houses, my cars, my everything.”

“Okay, okay. I won’t even look at him. I swear to you,” Yasmine pleaded as she held her hands out in front of her. “Just let me go. This isn’t necessary.”

“You fucked my nigga. This is very necessary. I hope it was good,” Miamor said. Suddenly she snatched one of the shovels from her bodyguard’s hands and swung it full force, hitting Yasmine in the side of the face. She fell to the ground as blood poured from her ear. Miamor’s rampage exploded as she hit her repeatedly, again and again and again and again. She showed no mercy as she took her frustrations out. Miamor knew that ultimately it was Carter’s fault for sleeping with Yasmine. She wasn’t married to Yasmine. Yasmine owed her nothing, but the fact that she was so smug about it had earned her this fate. Miamor didn’t care that she was literally beating the life out of the girl. Yasmine’s efforts to block the blows were futile. There was no protecting herself from this ruthless assault and as the excruciating beating continued she could do nothing but pray. Miamor’s chest heaved as she felt her clothes begin to stick to her skin. She held the shovel high above her head as she prepared to bring it down once more, but the sniffling, bloody, mess of a woman before her was no longer worth the effort. This beating wasn’t making her feel any better. It didn’t dull the pain that plagued her. She was still aching inside. The unbearable emotion haunted her, making it hard for her to breathe. Tears clouded her vision as she tossed the shovel to the ground. “Should have never crossed me,” she said. She turned to her men. “Put the bitch in a box and bury her while she’s still breathing. Leave a little air hole for her. I want it to be slow. Let her feel every single moment of what’s left of her miserable life.” Miamor left two of her men behind to clean up her mess as she headed back to the car with her driver. She had a meeting to attend. Yasmine was only the first to be punished. Carter would feel her wrath as well. As she climbed into the back of the car she knew that no matter what fate she delivered to him . . . she would always suffer behind his betrayal. Nothing she could do to him would ever make this right because even when she hated him . . . she loved him.

Carter was a man of little patience and as he checked the presidential that occupied his wrist he had to contain his anger. Tardiness was a sign of disrespect and Carter clenched his jaw as he folded his hands, placing them on the conference table in front of him. He was all business as he sat with a stern expression. The tailored Tom Ford suit he wore proved that he had graduated from the streets. He was no longer chasing hood fame; he was chasing them M’s . . . the legal way. Owner of The Davinci, Las Vegas’ newest resort and casino, he was a man with little free time. He had no hours in the day to waste. Miamor knew that. She had been by his side for so long that he already knew that her late arrival to their meeting was intentional. She was purposefully showing him that no matter how large he became, she would always run the show. He had given her the throne beside his. She was his queen and because of that he was on her time, like it or not. Carter leaned into the attorney that sat to his right. “We need to wrap this up.”

Einstein looked across the table at the opposing counsel. “Mr. Levie, if your client doesn’t show up in the next five minutes, we will have to reschedule this mediation session,” he spoke. “Clearly she isn’t taking this situation very seriously. Mr. Jones has asked her numerous times what she wants. We have yet to receive a response and today she doesn’t even show up . . .”

Davison Levie drummed his fingers on the oak table as he leaned back in his chair with one hand placed underneath his chin. “She will be here . . .”

“I am here.”

Miamor’s voice caused all three men to turn their attention toward the door. Standing in a Carolina Herrera bodycon slip dress and five-inch heels, each of them were mesmerized by her beauty. Her hair fell in an asymmetrical bob around her face. Beautiful wasn’t quite the right word to describe Miamor. She was dangerous, enticing, and alluring. Miamor was simply a bad bitch. The curves of her body were so sharp that they were deadly. Her face so pretty that it was deceptive. She was like a black widow. It was easy to get caught up in her web and very few escaped it. She took a seat beside her lawyer, sitting directly across from Carter. Her heart thundered in her chest. Seeing him made her blood boil, but oddly she loved him so much all at the same time. She could not believe that she was sitting across from him, when her place had been next to him for so long. Once lovers, they were now adversaries and it was still so hard for Miamor to believe. As she sat silently, soul bleeding, love dying, she wished that she could turn back the hands of time. Her eyes were cold, dark, and distant as she sat stiffly, trying to remain strong. There was no way she would give Carter the satisfaction of seeing her break, not over him, not over his infidelity and lies. She had thought he was so different. Carter had promised her a unique love, but in the end he had turned out to be just another nigga. He had broken her heart and now there was no turning back. They had survived many things, but his one mistake had brought their love to a screeching halt. Now they sat, at the divorce table, enemies as they each watched their love slip away.

“Glad you could make it,” Carter said sarcastically.

Miamor nodded her head but didn’t respond with words. She had nothing to say to him. She knew that if she opened her mouth to speak that nothing but tears and sobs would fall out. No, it was best if she remained composed and let her attorney do the speaking. She and Carter were beyond words at this point. She leaned into her lawyer and whispered, “Lay out my demands.”

Levie cleared his throat. “Mrs. Jones wants everything. She wants to keep the fifty percent stake that they currently share in ownership of The Davinci Resort and Casino, she wants the house in Summerlin, and she wants the $10,000,000 that is in the joint savings. According to our records, Mr. Jones has another savings account that he opened last year. In that account is $50,000,000 that he had hidden from Mrs. Jones. She wants that as well. She wants to keep all vehicles that are currently parked at the home in Summerlin. She also wants all stocks and bonds that they have purchased since being married. The estate in Miami, he can have and the home in Flint, MI she has no interest in.”

Carter scoffed as if he had just heard a joke.

“This should not be amusing Mr. Jones. Mrs. Jones is very serious about her demands. Considering that there was no prenuptial agreement . . .”

“She’s not getting my casino,” Carter interrupted coolly, with a calm but serious tone.

“That is my casino,” Miamor said. “While your ass was hiding out from a Fed case in Saudi, I was here with Breeze, with Leena, establishing The Davinci.”

Carter stood to his feet and Einstein followed his cue. “Let us know when you have a serious offer. Mr. Jones is willing to offer a generous settlement. He has no intention of putting Mrs. Jones out in the streets. He wants to ensure that she is comfortable. But these demands are ludicrous. No judge will grant them,” Einstein stated.

“A judge won’t have to,” Miamor replied. “I’ve got more than enough dirt on you Carter. It’s in your best interest to give me what I want.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Carter stated. He could see the hurt in her eyes. No matter how hard of a front Miamor put on, Carter knew her. He could feel the disappointment and resentment radiating from her heart. He turned to Einstein. “Take Levie and step out of the room.”

Levie objected. “I don’t advise my client to speak with you without me.”

Carter’s eyes turned dark as he turned his attention to Miamor’s attorney. “Leave the room,” he demanded, his shoulders squared in authority as his baritone banished both men from the room.

He turned toward Miamor when they were alone. It was the first time he had seen her in weeks. She had accepted no phone calls from him and hadn’t been home since she had found him cheating. Carter had no idea where she was even staying. “Can we talk?” he asked.

“No,” she replied, stubbornly.

“It’s not what it looks like. If you let me explain . . .” Carter started.

“I caught a bitch half naked in your bed, it’s exactly what it looks like. There’s nothing more to say,” Miamor spat. Her words were so sharp that they cut Carter to the core. He could hear the contempt lacing her words. She was scorned, dejected, and scarred by all of the promises that he had broken. So many apologies sat on the edge of his tongue, waiting to leap out of his mouth, but he held them back. She was too full of anger to hear anything that he had to say at the moment.

“I want it all,” she continued. “Every dollar, every business, every asset.”

“You’re pushing me Miamor,” Carter warned. “I’m trying to be patient with you because I know that I hurt you, but don’t take that as weakness ma. You out of everybody know what it is. You know exactly what I’m capable of.”

Miamor cut her eyes low in disgust. “Yes I do know Carter, but clearly you have forgotten what I’m capable of. You’ll soon find out. There is a price to pay for breaking my heart. I’m going to ruin you nigga.”

Miamor stormed out of the conference room, bypassing both Levie and Einstein as she made her exit. Heat pulsed through her as she made her way to her chauffeured vehicle. She was so full of emotion that it felt like she would combust. The history that she shared with Carter made it so hard to let him go. She had made him her everything and now that he had let her down, she was left with nothing but resentment. She looked at the world through bitter eyes as she slid into the plush interior of the Cadillac truck. The driver closed the door and Miamor leaned her elbow against the windowsill. Rest. Contentment. Peace of mind. She wondered if she would ever feel those things again. Turmoil had taken over her world and a sick knot was always present in her gut. She was sick from grief as she mourned the loss of the greatest love she had ever known. She let her head fall to the side as her chin rested against her balled fist. Tears came to her eyes. How did I let another woman sneak into his bed? she pondered, miserably. She tried to think of where she had gone wrong. What had she done to deserve the disloyalty that Carter had shown her? She hadn’t even seen the signs or had she seen them and just ignored them? She had trusted Carter and he had burned her. Miamor was lost. She was once a woman who needed no one until Carter had changed that. He had convinced her to trust him, had gotten her dependent on his affection. Now that they were at odds all she felt was pain. Her pain made her want to cause pain and she had her cross hairs focused on the man whom had wronged her. Killing his little jump off wasn’t enough. Miamor wanted Carter to pay for making her feel like just another lovesick girl. Taking his empire was the only way to make him feel as small as she did right now. Despite her hate for Carter, she couldn’t bury her love. It had been too strong. It would take years for her to get over Carter Jones. He was undoubtedly the great love of her life. Miamor knew that the type of bond that they had shared would never exist again. As her mind drifted down memory lane she looked for someone, something to blame.

She couldn’t blame anyone but herself. She had gotten lost in love and had trusted too much. Miamor had broken her number one rule. She had let her guards down.

“Where to boss?” the goon asked.

Before Miamor could respond a tap on her window caused her to look up. Carter stood, calmly with one hand tucked in his designer slacks, impatiently waiting for her to roll down her window. She did and for the first time she allowed him to witness her tears.

The anger was peeled away like the layers of an onion and she reeked of hurt. Her story of heartbreak was written in her eyes.

“Mia,” he whispered.

“You ruined me Carter,” she sniffled. He opened the car door and leaned into her.

“I don’t know what I was thinking ma, and I’ll tell you I’m sorry everyday for the rest of my life if I have to. Just come back home Miamor. I don’t want this. This ain’t us. We’ve gotten through worse right?” he said, trying to get her to remember their history of overcoming the odds against them. He wasn’t pleading. Carter wasn’t the begging type but he could feel her slipping away. The way she looked at him . . . the glow in her eye that was strictly reserved for him was fading. He was losing her. Or had he lost her already? He didn’t know, but he couldn’t see himself letting his pride get in the way of saving his marriage. Miamor was the very best part of him.

“We got through worse because at the end of the day I knew you were mine. It was me and you against the fucked up world. I don’t know that anymore. You broke your vow Carter and you pulled the switch that shut everything off for me. I’m not this girl. I should have never been this girl. Stupid in love over a nigga that will never give back the amount of loyalty I give to you. All you do is take Carter. Now I’m taking from you. Apparently I’ve been too nice. I’ve got to murder a bitch to make you remember who I am?” she asked.

Carter’s face fell. “What are you talking about Miamor? What did you do?” he asked. The evil smirk on her face answered his question. “Where is Yasmine ma?” She slapped him swiftly.

“She’s not dead yet,” Miamor said with a condescending laugh. “A bullet to the head would have been too kind. I’ve been hurting for months behind the bullshit that you two pulled so I thought a slow death would be more appropriate.”

“Where is she?” Carter asked.

“Don’t ask me about your whore. Nigga if you wanted her alive you shouldn’t have fucked her. You already knew what my reaction would be. Should have controlled your actions. Her death is on you,” Miamor sneered.

“Miamor this isn’t one of your Miami hits. You can’t . . .”

“You want your whore alive . . . you take your ass out to the desert and dig her up,” Miamor said passive aggressively as she thumbed through her phone, blatantly giving Carter no kick it. “I’m sure she’s not out of air yet . . . better hurry though.”

Carter grit his teeth, feeling as if he could snap Miamor’s neck. “Do you know what you’ve done? Tell me you didn’t bury that girl alive?” Miamor shot him a look that showed just how cunningly cruel she was. Carter hit the top of the car in frustration. “Do you know who the fuck her father is going to send our way when he finds out?” Carter exhaled sharply as a weight settled over his shoulder. “I’m talking terrorists Miamor. Fucking assassins. You just signed your death certificate. We have a son! You killed that man’s daughter you think he won’t take our son,” Carter was so livid that he spit as he chastised her. “You should have checked that jealousy at the door and brought your hot headed ass home. You not ready for the type of consequences that Baraka is going to deliver.” His tirade only pissed her off more and she pushed him back so that she could shut her door.

“You should have thought about that before you fucked the bitch,” Miamor spat. She then stubbornly turned her head as the car rolled away. She couldn’t stop herself from looking back at him but when she did, the red dot that illuminated in the center of his chest caused her mouth to drop in horror. Someone had a beam on him and regretfully she knew what was to follow. It all happened in a split second, their eyes met but before she could warn him . . .

BOOM!

“No!!!!!!!!”

The gunshot was so loud that it pierced her ears, causing a slight ring and interrupting the stillness of the day, mixing with the screams that erupted from her soul. Her driver hit the breaks in reaction to the blast. Miamor hopped out of the car and instinct caused her to run full speed to Carter’s side. “Oh my God! Somebody help me!” her shrill cries were desperate . . . fear filled. Her love was leaking out of her, betraying her in this moment. She couldn’t help but care. She hated him, but the line between love and hate was so vague that she loved him all the same. It was a double-edged sword and as she pressed her hands against his bleeding chest, adding pressure to his wound she wailed. Tears clouded her vision as they ran down her nose and dropped onto Carter’s face.

He gripped her wrists as he gasped. “I’m . . . Mia . . . ” Tears of excruciation filled his reddened eyes.

“Help me!!!” she screamed. She felt hands pulling her off of him as she struggled to stay near him. “No!! No! I have to be with him! Get the fuck off of me! I need to be with him!” Sirens were heard in the distance and curious bystanders filtered out of the casino. She heard Zyir and Monroe fighting their way through the crowd.

Carter motioned for Zyir as he opened his mouth, attempting to speak. Zyir kneeled by his man. “Don’t talk bro, just hold on,” Zyir coached. Carter was persistent how-ever and used the little strength he had to pull Zyir.

“Leave . . . town . . . go back . . .” he grimaced as he grit his teeth as blood filled his mouth. “home. Live . . . through . . . this.”

Zyir nodded, but Carter seemed to be talking in circles. Live through what? Hadn’t they already survived the worst. Carter was speaking as if he knew that today was his day of reckoning; as if this was only the beginning. “Where’s the fucking ambulance?!!!” Zyir screamed, fearing the worst.

Pure horror crossed their faces as Monroe sprang to action. “We not waiting on the fucking ambulance. Help me get him in the car!”

Leena rushed out and hurried to Miamor’s side, but Breeze paused as she looked at Miamor in doubt. “Did you do this?”

Miamor squinted her eyes in confusion and shook her head in denial. How could she ask me this? Why would she . . . “Did you shoot him?!”

The question came out like an accusation, smacking her in the face and suddenly all eyes were on her. Leena placed her hands over her mouth in shock as everyone waited for her to answer. Miamor had no response. She was stunned into silence as she shook uncontrollably. Did Baraka do this? How did word get back to him so fast? Miamor had known that there would be repercussions for killing Yasmine. Her rage had prevented her from caring, but now that she was covered in Carter’s blood, fear seized her. Zyir helped her from the ground. He didn’t know what had gone down, but Miamor was Carter’s wife . . . his everything. He knew Carter well and if today was his day to die, Miamor’s face would be the last one he would want to see. “Let’s go. Figure this shit out later. Carter needs you.”

Miamor stood shakily to her feet as she was escorted to his car. She looked up at him with terrified eyes. “Zyir, I fucked up,” she whispered with tears in her eyes. “I think I just started another war.”

“What did you do?” he asked.

“I killed Yasmine,” she replied.

Zyir’s eyes widened at the revelation and his jaw clenched as he grit his teeth. He put the car in drive and sped away. Now he knew why Carter had told him to shake town and he knew that his days in Las Vegas were numbered. As soon as he got the chance he and Breeze would kiss sin city good-bye and start their lives over somewhere else. Zyir didn’t know how to clean up this mess but he was sure of one thing. There was a storm coming and he didn’t know if The Cartel could weather another disaster.

Fly Boogie quickly dismantled the M-24 sniper rifle with speed and placed it in a large duffel. Not wanting to draw attention to himself he strolled casually to his Range, tossing the duffel in the backseat before getting in and driving away.

Fuck that nigga, Fly Boogie thought. She better off without him anyway. Fly Boogie had just risked it all for Miamor and she didn’t even know it. Carter had crossed her and broken her heart but that wasn’t enough. Fly Boogie knew that a man like Carter never lost. Miamor loved him too much and as long as he was breathing she would have taken him back. Fly wasn’t standing for it. He wanted to throw his hat in the ring and in order to do that he had to get rid of the competition. He only wished he had a better shot. His nerves had caused him to aim low. One to the head would have put a tag on Carter’s toe for sure. Now he would have to wait and see how Carter fared before making his move. Malice hadn’t been his intention when he first followed the Cartel. In fact, he had nothing but respect for Carter but five years of being next to Miamor had him fiending to make it forever. She would never admit her feelings for him as long as Carter was breathing. All was fair in love and war. When it came to Miamor he would do whatever to ensure that he won her heart . . . if it meant going against the grain and biting the hand that fed him . . . than so be it.