The Cocaine Princess Part 5 (Cocaine Princess Series #5)(10)

“You don’t know how many times I’ve made that exact statement.”

T-Walk turned. “Green light?”

“It’s not that simple.” Reesie Cup pointed a remote control at the flat-screen monitor on the mahogany wall beside his desk. He scanned through several security-camera vantages, located Blake in the downstairs crowd, and zoomed in on him. “You see, since this past October, I’ve been doing business with his Dub Life crew, and they’ve proven to be the sweetest drug connect I’ve ever run across. A thousand kilos of soft for fifteen million. A hundred bricks of heroin for five million. Pounds of Kush for two racks apiece. I got half the city on lock, joe. I need Blake.”

Grinding his teeth together, T-Walk stared at the camera monitor for a moment, then said, “Man, f*ck that nigga. He tried to kill me over a bitch. That’s damn near the fakest shit you can do.”

“You had him shot ten times, T-Walk. You’re lucky he only put two bullets in you.”

T-Walk swept his eyes back over to Reesie Cup and left them there. In urban lexicon, the two men were often referred to as “high-yellow” niggas, the handsome type that women of all ethnicities drooled over. Both of them were clad in expensive suits; dapper young millionaires in their Sunday’s best.

Trintino was the producer, executive producer, director, and creator of television’s two most-watched, reality TV shows: Brick House of North Palm Beach and Brick House of Jupiter Island. The shows were similar to MTV’s Jersey Shore, only the Brick House cast members were black women with pretty faces, slender waistlines, and tons of junk in their trunks. They were Straight Stuntin’ Magazine models, rap video vixens, adult film stars, high-paid pole dancers, and they were making T-Walk a lot of money. He owned a high-rise condo in Miami, a Bentley coupe, and a bank account that contained a little over $19 million.

“I know what you’re pissed off about.” Tyrese pressed some buttons on the remote, and seconds later they were watching Alexus Costilla as she tossed dollars at the dancer on her table. “It’s her, isn’t it? You’re still in love with Alexus.”

Following a contemplative pause, T-Walk murmured, “Yeah…I still love her. I’ll always love her. But that’s only part of the reason why I’m upset.” He crossed the room to the camera monitor. “I tried to do what you did, and I failed.”

“You tried to what I did? What are you talking about?” Reesie Cup asked, bunching his thin eyebrows together.

“The kidnapping scheme. I heard about the fifty million dollar ransom you got from kidnapping Blake’s daughter, so I had some of my folks help me kidnap Alexus’ son. But somehow they found the apartment where we had the baby. We had just left. They killed my li’l guy’s girlfriend and his son, got the baby back, and that was that.”

Reesie Cup gazed fixedly at T-Walk, and T-Walk kept his eyes on Alexus. Just seeing her flawless face warmed his heart.

“Who said I kidnapped Blake’s daughter?” Cup sounded leery.

“Does it really matter?”

“Hell yeah, it matters! I spend twenty-four million dollars with Blake every month. If word gets back to him about that kidnapping, I’ll lose my connect.”

T-Walk shrugged. “He already knows. At least that’s what I believe. Why else would he have gunned down those two guys down the street from here last year? This is your neighborhood; he knew that.”

“All he knows is that his daughter was kidnapped from an apartment on Douglas and Albany. The ransom money went to an untraceable offshore account in Panama, and the police were never even contacted. He may think I had something to do with it, but there’s no way he’ll ever really know.”

“Come on, now, Cup,” T-Walk said, walking to the door. “It’s twenty-twelve. Nothing is untraceable.”





Chapter 5

“Mmm, boy, you are so damn fine.”

“Thank you. Appreciate the compliment.”

“I’m so serious, Bulletface. I never in my wildest dreams thought I’d get to meet you face to face. I have all of your mix-tapes. I have a framed picture of you hanging over my bed. Oh, my God, I’m actually talking to Bulletface!”

With an infectious grin on his face, Blake studied the beautiful young woman standing in front of him. Blonde curls framed her yellowish brown face. She had on a tight purple dress and sparkly high-heel shoes. Her breasts were large, her stomach was flat, and her enormous ass was just as fat as Alexus’, if not fatter. She began walking beside him as he made his way back to his table.

“What’s your name again?” he asked.

“Nona Malden. I’m originally from Detroit, but I’ve been living here in Chicago for the past six months, modeling and waitressing at Reesie Cup’s other club.”

“The Visionary Lounge?”

“Yeah. I have a bachelor’s degree in biology, but since nobody’s really hiring, I went ahead and started working at the club.” Nona’s voice was soft and melodic, and her perfume was tantalizing. “Where are we going?”

Blake stopped to hug and take a picture with Olivia. Then turned to Nona and cracked another grin. “We? Who said we were going anywhere? I’m about to get my wife and go home.”

“Bulletface,” said Nona, “please don’t do me like that. I’m sure you’re probably thinking I’m just another bad li’l groupie, but I swear I’m not. I meet celebrities every night at The Visionary Lounge. This past Thursday, Common and Kanye performed at the club, and both of them were trying to get with me all night. It’s not that I don’t like them, I’m just more into gangsters like you, gangsters like Yo Gotti, you know what I’m saying?”