The Conglomerate: A Luxorious Tale

by Santiago, Danielle

  Not much for a lot of jaw jacking, Zay retrieved a fourteen inch knuckle guard combat knife with a serrated blade and shoved it into Dawhar’s abdomen repeatedly at least ten times then dropped the knife next to his near lifeless body. The Cubans picked up Dawhar’s limp body and tossed him into the water making a dull thud on contact. The sound attracted two massively humungous alligators lurking nearby.

  Creeping over to the body, the gators positioned themselves at opposite ends of Dawhar. As if coordinated, they simultaneously opened wide, and sunk their teeth deep into his flesh. Twisting and pulling Dawhar like a rag doll.

  Zay stared in silence as the alligators devoured their human meal. It felt good to avenge the attack on his wife. He wasn’t happy that he’d had to kill again. Zay didn’t take pleasure in killing because for him murder was a necessary means to an end when there was no other remedy. When someone harmed his family in the manner Dawhar had, murder was the only solution.

  An approaching airboat took Zay’s attention away from the horrific scene in the water. Zay looked down at the older Cuban who was rolling up the blood soaked tarp, “Ay my man someone’s coming.”

  Without looking up he replied, “That’s your ride back. Take your clothes off.”

  “Huh?”

  He nodded at Zay’s clothes.

  Zay looked down, his shirt and shorts were cover in blood. Hurriedly he began to remove his clothes.

  The younger Cuban opened a metal insulated box affixed to the deck. Steam rose from the box, he dipped his hand, and pulled out two scalding hot damp towels. He gave the towels to Zay. “Use these to clean your skin while I get your clothes.”

  Jason leaned over to Zay and muttered, “Damn these muhfuckas is thorough.”

  The younger Cuban came back with a set of clothes identical to what Jason and Zay were wearing.

  “I’m good,” Jason said, “I don’t have any blood on me.”

  “You must clean up and change too,” the older Cuban spoke. “Little spots that the eye can’t see could be on you.”

  ***

  Asaad Nyfeed’s annual gala was an extravagant fundraising event that he held every spring in Miami. The one-thousand dollar a plate affair was a mix of old money, new money, politicians, socialites, A-listers, and king pin level dealers. The proceeds from the yearly event went to the campaign funds and personal pockets. All of the politicians in attendance were in Asaad’s pocket.

  Asaad’s heroine entered the country through three major port areas: California, Florida, and Louisiana. In each state he had high ranking police officials, judges, mayors, senators, and congressmen that he took good care of financially. In return through their connections the politicians made sure that the heroine made it into the country without interruption.

  Joey spared no expense when it came to dressing for the gala, because the women that attended the gala were couture and atelier type. Joey was astonishing in a seven thousand dollar lilac, one shoulder chiffon Marchesa gown. The gown’s strap was wide and embellished with Swarovski crystals, fitted at the waist it flowed eloquently from her torso to the floor.

  Cee was equally impressive in a black lace cap sleeve Marchesa gown, a gift from Joey, who’d begged her to come with her. She thought that it would be good for Cee to get away and to keep her company while Zay and Jason wandered the room networking. Usually she’d be stuck with a dingy vixen that Jason brought as a date. To Joey’s surprise this year Jason didn’t bring a date but judging by the way Cee and Jason were playing one another closely she understood why.

  During the cocktail hour Joey and Cee people watched while playing fashion police. The friends giggled at a middle aged woman displaying a horrible set of legs in an outrageously short tight dress.

  “Who told her that was okay with that horrible shape?” Joey joked.

  “I don’t know, but um um,” Cee stuttered distracted by something over Joey’s shoulder. “Who is that chick with all that ass in Zay’s face?”

  Joey turned to see a female with infinite curves in an emerald green lace and silk Versace gown that hugged her like a second set of skin. A young Joey would’ve flown over and said, “what the fuck is this?” Now older and refined she didn’t even flinch, the woman could easily be a business associate, and Joey wouldn’t dare embarrass Zay or herself by flipping out like a first rate hood rat. She was no fool though, from the distance she monitored carefully. Zay and sexy mystery women’s interaction seemed to be harmless, but if it veered towards flirty lane; Joey would most definitely check the situation. A familiar man soon approached the woman and Zay.

  “Isn’t that Sincere?” Cee asked Joey.

  “Yeah it sure is.” The woman turned toward Sincere and from her side profile Joey realized that it was her good friend. “Oh my God Cee that’s Kisa Kane.”

  The two women walked over just as Jason was walking over. Joey eased up behind Kisa with her index finger over her lips so that no one would alert Kisa to her presence. Disguising her voice in a deep bass tone, Joey leaned into Kisa’s ear from behind and said, “All I want for my birthday is a big booty hoe,” then squeezed Kisa’s ample ass with both hands.

  Kisa whipped around ready to spaz on the man who dared to try her. When she saw Joey’s face a smile spread across her face.

  “Hey baby girl,” Kisa squealed excitedly wrapping her arms around Joey hugging her tightly. “How are you?”

  “I’m good,” Joey beamed just as excited.

  “No, how are you really doing?” Kisa raised her brow. By Kisa’s expression, Joey knew that she was referring to the Dawhar incident.

  “I’m okay. Honestly I’m okay.”

  “We’ve been out of the country. As soon as we got back, I went to your house first then I went to the Luxe looking for you and Bev told me that you were in Dubai.”

  “Yes girl I had to go to Dubai and get away from all the chaos.” Kisa reached around Joey and grabbed Cee by the hand.

  “Damn Cee, I didn’t see you.” Kisa embraced her, “I’m so sorry about Petey and that Sin and I were not able to make the funeral. We’d just left the country when he passed. Did you get the flowers?”

  “Yes Kane, I got the flowers, the cards, and the money which was a bit much.”

  “The money was for the kids,” Kisa winked. “How are you holding up?

  “I have good days and a lot of bad days, but I’m making it.”

  “You already know if you need anything and I mean anything, you better pick up the phone and call me.”

  “Man, don’t hate ‘cuz you niggas are the second and third flyest dudes in the building,” Sincere, Kisa’s husband, teased Zay and Jason animatedly. He was spectacular in a beautiful Dolce and Gabbana tuxedo, a white jacket with black lapels. Beneath it a black shirt, black suspenders, black pants, black diamond cufflinks, and black Mauri ostrich and suede loafers.

  “I guess your flashy Harlem ass supposed to be the flyest man in here,” Zay said flashing his high wattage pearly whites, incredibly handsome himself in a navy Tom Ford tuxedo.

  “To show me a dude flyer you gotta put a mirror in front of me.”

  “You are still the slickest talking nigga I know.” Jason shook his head smiling.

  “Blame it on my old head,” Sincere laughed. “I know one thing for sure the three baddest women in the building are standing right here.”

  “Always the charmer,” Joey said. Kisa rolled her eyes.

  “Always the flirt is more like it.”

  “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 s
aid 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 footwork.”

  “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 cradl
ed 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.