“You may take your seat, Ms. Miller,” the judge instructed.
Zya closed her eyes and breathed deeply to calm her nerves. Anari looked at her, and could see that Zya was stressed. She smiled smugly to herself, knowing that she had caused Zya to lose sleep.
“Could you please state your name for the court’s transcript?” Rachel Evans, the District Attorney of New York, asked.
“Zya Miller.”
“Ms. Miller, were you directly involved with Supreme Clientele?”
“Yes,” Zya answered as she sat poised in her seat, her eyes directly on the prosecutor.
“What was your involvement?”
“I was the member of the table that had the coke connect.”
“Coke connect? By that you mean you got the cocaine for the table?”
“Yes,” Zya replied.
“Approximately how much cocaine?”
“I transported five hundred kilos of coke every month from overseas to the United States,” Zya admitted.
“Daaamn!!” someone shouted from the crowd. There were gasps and chatter throughout the room, and the judge banged his gavel to get the crowd under control.
Anari sat back in her chair, knowing that the jury was watching her every move. She stared intently at Zya and shook her head in contempt. She hated snitches, and couldn’t believe that Zya was getting ready to give her up.
“Ms. Miller,” the district attorney said as she walked over to the defense table. “What part did Anari Simpson play in this drug transaction?”
Anari looked at Zya, and as their eyes met, Zya felt the tears threaten to fall. They stared intently at one another, and Zya opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.
“Ms. Miller, answer the question,” the judge instructed.
“What part did Anari Simpson play in this drug transaction?” Ms. Evans repeated.
I can’t do this. I’d rather go to prison than be a mu’fuckin’ snitch, Zya thought.
Zya shook her head and replied, “None.”
“Excuse me?” the district attorney asked as she looked from Lonnie Wade to Zya and then back to the judge.
“She played no role in the drug transaction. It was all me. I don’t even know the defendant,” Zya stated firmly.
The courtroom erupted in conversation, and Lonnie Wade stood up angrily and shouted, “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Ms. Miller, do you know the penalty for perjury?” the D.A. threatened.
Zya snapped back, “Yeah, bitch. It can’t be any worse than the penalty for murder. I do not know the defendant. I was responsible for the drug transactions.”
Rachel Evans turned red and yelled, “And Supreme Clientele?”
“Supreme Clientele consists of myself, Torey Smith aka Snow, Tyrone Watson aka Black Ty, Julius Carter aka Jules, Arvita Simmons, and Lonnie Wade. All of the members are now dead or doing life in jail—all except for myself and Detective Lonnie Wade. Say hi, Wade,” Zya stated with a smirk as she waved at Lonnie Wade.
All of the people sitting in the courtroom looked back at the Lonnie Wade and began to speculate about what Zya had just said. With her statement, she had just exonerated Anari Simpson and all the other members of the table from any involvement in Supreme Clientele. She had just taken the fall for the whole cartel.
“And Ms. Simpson’s involvement was?” Rachel Evans was pushing to connect the dots between Supreme Clientele and Anari. She could feel the case slipping right out of her hands.
“The defendant was not involved. I disguised my identity by using the name Tony when I conducted business,” Zya said, taking the blame for all of the charges. News columnists wrote frantically, trying to keep up with every word, and the crowd was unable to contain their astonished comments.
Anari’s expression remained cold as she stared at Zya sitting on the stand. She leaned over to Anderson Wallace and whispered, “Get Snow taken care of. Make sure the hit is right.”
“Your Honor!” Ms. Evans yelled. “I would like to request a three-month hold on this trial. This witness has hurt our case significantly.”
Anderson Wallace stood up and said, “Your Honor, I must object. My client is guaranteed a speedy trial by the United States Constitution. If Ms. Miller is the only witness that the prosecution has against Ms. Simpson, that is their mistake. In fact, I would like to ask for an immediate dismissal.”
The judge shook his head in disgust as he realized that the trial had just taken a turn for the worse. “I’m sorry, Ms. Evans. I cannot grant your request. Mr. Wallace, I also deny your request for a dismissal. Ms. Simpson will still be tried based on the evidence that the State has presented, no matter how little.”
He looked down at Zya and yelled, “Remove the witness from the stand!”
Lonnie Wade got up and walked over to Zya. He was livid. “You’re going to rot underneath the jail by the time I’m finished with you,” he threatened as he placed her in cuffs and shoved her out of the courtroom.
Torey Snow sat in the prison cell, staring at the letter he had received from Zya. She had told him everything about Lonnie Wade, and told him that she had decided not to snitch. She told him that she would include his name as a member of the roundtable, but it didn’t matter since he had two consecutive life sentences.
Snow was proud of Zya for maintaining the code of the streets, but he was also worried about his unborn child. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to be a part of his child’s life, and was sure that Lonnie Wade was going to send Zya Upstate. They would be locked up for the remainder of their natural lives, and he didn’t want his child to be thrown into the system. He contacted his mother, who decided that she would adopt the child right after Zya gave birth.
Snow thought about Zya often. She was his woman, and he loved her more than he loved himself. Thinking about her hurt him to the depths of his soul, so Snow quickly learned to block out all thoughts of his life on the outside. There was no point in thinking about what his life used to be like because it would never be like that again. He had to get used to life on the inside. He slept, ate, and even showered when another man told him to. He was truly state property, and he was slowly adjusting to the fucked up circumstances that his life had become.
Snow got up and followed the line of inmates from their cell blocks into the shower. He stepped into the foggy area and carried his soap on a rope to a shower head and began to wash his muscular body. The steam from the hot water made it hard to see. As he washed his body, he felt a sharp object puncture his body. He grabbed the hand that held the object and slammed the white man repeatedly against the hard brick wall. His fist pummeled the man’s face, but he was restrained by prison guards quickly. The man took advantage of the opportunity. He picked the shank up from the shower floor and stuck Snow with it repeatedly, causing him to fall to the ground. Blood came from Snow’s mouth as his naked body lost consciousness.
Wade picked up the newspaper and read the front page headline. SUPREME CLIENTELE MEMBER TOREY SMITH STABBED IN PRISON FIGHT: BODY DISAPPEARS FROM HOSPITAL.
Wade smiled to himself. I wonder if Zya’s heard the news. Anari probably had her little boyfriend hit after she took the stand against her, Wade thought. He was glad that Zya had gotten what was coming to her. After that shit she pulled in the courtroom ...
His thoughts were interrupted as his Lieutenant came walking into the room with two rookie cops standing by his side.
“I warned you, Wade!” he yelled.
“What are you talking about?” Lonnie asked. The two officers walked around Wade’s desk and pulled him to his feet. “What the fuck is going on?” Wade asked as his eyes bucked open.
“You’re under arrest,” one of the officers said.
“For what?” he yelled as he jerked wildly, trying to free himself.
“For your illegal participation in Supreme Clientele,” the Lieutenant answered harshly as he threw pictures of Wade standing next to Zya on the table.
Jones continued, “We ha
ve your phone records, showing that you were contacting Zya Miller frequently. Calls that weren’t authorized or documented.”
“Wait! Lieutenant Jones!” Lonnie yelled as he was handcuffed and escorted out of the police station. “It’s not what it looks like.” Those were the last words Wade said before he was hit over the head with a billy club and was carried off.
Anari walked through the crowd that had accumulated outside the courthouse. Everyone was anxiously awaiting the jury’s decision. Dozens of people followed her with cameras. Reporters from almost every news and entertainment station in the country were trying to get an exclusive interview.
“What up? This is Sway from MTV News, reporting live from the Anari Simpson court case in New York City. The courthouse is packed today as everyone waits to see what verdict the jury will come back with. As soon as the decision is in, you’ll know first. We’re going to keep you, the people at home, updated on what’s going on here at the trial of the century,” Sway said as he walked alongside Anari, her entourage, and the dozens of news reporters.
He looked to Anari and said, “I’m behind you all the way. Good luck.”
Although Anari didn’t know him personally, she smiled and replied, “Thank you.” Anari made her way into the courtroom and took her seat at the defense table.
The judge entered the packed courtroom and an abundance of “shhh” echoed throughout the place. The jury filed in one by one, and Anari gripped Wallace’s hand as she looked at the people who held her life in their hands. She was breathing erratically as she tried to remain calm. She crossed her fingers and looked back at Von, who was sitting in the back of the courtroom with their five-year-old daughter sitting on his lap. Anari smiled as her daughter, LaTanya, waved innocently. Anari had named her daughter after her best friend who had died at the hands of the game. She raised her head to the sky, knowing that Tanya was looking down on her.
“Will the defendant please rise?” the judge asked.
Anari stood, closed her eyes, and lowered her head to the table, beginning to pray.
Please, God, I have been through so much in the past seven years. My heart was broken with the death of my son, and it took me a long time to rebuild my life. I know that everything I do is not right, but no one is perfect. I know that I am not without sin, but I am asking You now to give me another chance. I played the hand that You dealt me, and did what I had to do to survive. Let no man judge me, because I feel that You are the only one great enough to do so.
Please . . . if I get out of this, I will retire from the game. I will never touch another drug in my life. I will sit back with my family and enjoy my life with them. I will leave the game alone and be a mother and wife to my family.
Anari raised her head, and tears graced her face. It was the first time in a long time that she had shown weakness. She had buried her emotions when her son was murdered and she first entered the game, but she had meant what she said. If she got off, she was going to get out of the game and leave the malicious, fucked up part of the world alone. She planned on enjoying her money and spending as much time as possible with her beautiful daughter and husband. I’ll let Von handle the drug game, and I’ll finally be able to just be wifey, she thought.
The foreman of the jury stood, and the courtroom was so silent you could hear a pin drop. “We, the people of this jury, find Anari Simpson . . .” Anari held her breath as she waited for the last words. An eternity seemed to pass before she heard the foreman say, “Not guilty on all counts.”
Everyone in the courtroom roared in applause and congratulations. Anari fell back into her chair in disbelief, and a tear of joy slid down her face.
Anderson Wallace embraced her and said, “You really are untouchable.”
Anari laughed and replied, “You really are as good as you say you are.”
Lights and cameras flashed as everyone took picture after picture of her. She ran to the back of the room, where her daughter was waiting with her arms outstretched. She picked her up and kissed her cheeks a thousand times as Von wrapped his arm around his wife.
“I love you, Mommy,” her daughter said sweetly.
Anari laughed to release some of the joy she felt and replied, “Mommy loves you too.” She looked around at all the people cheering for her, and her heart was finally soothed. The cold front that she had to build after her son was murdered dissolved, and she finally felt a sense of healing and happiness. Her struggle and heartache was finally over. She didn’t have to hide out or conceal her identity anymore, because the world already knew.
“You ready to get out of here?” Von asked her.
“Yeah, let’s go,” Anari replied. Anari made eye contact with all of the Supreme Clientele members.
Jimmy Ross from Miami nodded his head, acknowledging her acquittal.
Khadafi Langston from the Midwest smiled and slowly clapped as he watched her walk by.
Emilio Estes from the West Coast kept his serious expression, but the slight wink he gave her and the look in his eyes revealed his happiness for her.
Mr. Castello raised a cigar in the air and laughed heartily.
Anderson Wallace held up his briefcase and signaled for her to call him. The only member of the roundtable who was missing was Zya, and Anari knew exactly where she was headed. She looked back at the courtroom one last time and promised herself that she would never be put in that situation again.
I am done with the game. It’s time for me to retire. I just have one more thing that I need to handle. One more score to settle, then I am out . . . for good.
Chapter 19
This Can’t be Life
Federal Agent Matthews escorted Zya on the bus heading to Bedford Correctional Facility for Women. Zya couldn’t stand the sight of the person she knew as Buggy. He seemed like he was enjoying every bit of Zya’s incarceration.
Matthews stood at the steps as the future inmates loaded the bus. When Zya approached the steps, Matthews looked at her and said, “I wouldn’t miss this for the world. I can’t wait until you step inside your new, permanent home. Make sure you sit in the back, where I can keep my eyes on you!” He watched Zya load the bus with a pleased expression on his face. It was about time that she received what she had coming to her, and he was glad that he would be the one to introduce her to her fate.
Zya remained silent, but smirked as she stepped onto the bus. She knew that Matthews was upset because of what she had done to Wade. Detective Lonnie Wade had been kicked off the force, and was now under investigation for his involvement with the Supreme Clientele drug cartel.
She was the last one to board, so Matthews walked behind her with a shotgun. “Keep going until you reach the back seat, Miller,” he ordered.
Zya didn’t say anything to Matthews. She just followed his orders and sat at the back of the bus, where he stood posted with his weapon. Zya looked at the two guards standing at the front of the bus and then at Matthews, who stood next to her in the back.
I know he is itching to shoot me. I better not make any sudden movement. I would have paid a million bucks to see his face when Wade was arrested. I don’t know why he’s so angry, but I guess it’s true what they say. All pigs stick together.
Zya rubbed her swollen stomach and wished that she could have made things different. She was seven months pregnant and on her way to prison.
Zya looked around at the other women on the bus. She was surrounded by killers and thieves. Her only crime was that she was a born hustler. It wasn’t her fault. It was what the streets had raised. She was a product of her environment, and this little Harlem girl turned into one of the most notorious drug lords of her time. She was sentenced to a life sentence, with no chance of parole for her involvement with the murder of Keyshawn King and her admittance to her involvement with Supreme Clientele. Zya not only ruined the lives of Snow and herself, she had ruined the life of their unborn child.
My son will have to be born behind bars, and I will never have a chance to raise him. I can n
ever teach my child not to make the same mistakes that I have made. This can’t be life. They are going to take my baby away from me. I’ll never get the chance to be his mother.
Zya dropped her head while she caressed her belly. She closed her eyes and began to cry, hoping that her unborn child would have a better life than she did.
All of a sudden, she felt the bus jerk, and she heard the sound of the tires screeching. Matthews fell down from the jerk, and the whole bus was in chaos. The guards immediately pointed their guns on the inmates and yelled, “Remain calm! We caught a flat. Any unauthorized movement by the inmates will result in you being shot!” That comment quieted the bus down almost instantly, and the guards regained control.
Matthews got back to his feet and looked at Zya. “Do not fucking move!” he warned as he pointed his shotgun. Matthews took his gun off of Zya and exited the bus to see what the problem was.
Boom! An explosion blew up the front half of the bus, instantly killing the occupants that sat in the front, including the guards.
Oh God, my baby, Zya thought as she clenched her stomach and held her breath, not trying to breathe in the fumes from the explosion. Her only thought was to protect her unborn child. She dropped to the floor, trying to find some oxygen.
Zya tried to breathe, but every time she inhaled, she sucked in more smoke. Her heart began to pound harder and harder as she began to slip in and out of consciousness. Zya knew she wouldn’t make it. She saw her whole life flash before her eyes. She thought about when she left her foster mother’s home to run away with Jules. She saw Jules shoot King in the hotel. She saw when Jules was being escorted to jail. She saw herself sitting at the Supreme Clientele roundtable. She saw the boxes full of money, stacked up to her ceiling. She saw Vita, lying on the floor, lifeless, her soul-less eyes staring up at her, haunting her with a junkie’s gaze. She saw a baby boy that looked just like Snow, with gray eyes and a dark complexion. She saw her casket being closed, with no one at the funeral.
Supreme Clientele Page 27
