The Cocaine Princess Part 5 (Cocaine Princess Series #5)(29)

Chapter 18

Jennifer Costilla looked excellent for a woman in her mid-forties, like Selma Hayek with a slightly darker complexion. Her long hair tumbled down around her back and shoulders in lustrous black curls. Although she was dressed in the threadbare sweatshirt and jeans that had been given to her before she was released from Guantanamo Bay, she still managed to retain the same regal posture she’d always possessed.

Legs crossed, back straight as an ironing board, she was sitting alone on the Gulfstream VI jet that Papi had sent for her, reading Robert Greene’s The 33 Strategies of War on a Nook computer tablet.

A million thoughts were running through her mind, the first of which pertained to her missing son, Savio Costilla. She was almost certain that Papi had murdered Savio in response to her attacks on Alexus and Rita. But she had a remedy for that transgression. She would take from him what he’d taken from her, and since Alexus was the new head of the Costilla cartel, Jenny was left with only one alternative solution.

Mercedes Costilla had to die.

Two other more pressing thoughts bullied their way to the front of Jenny’s mind. The first was her fear that the two U.S. Fighter jets that were flying on either side of Papi’s jet would shoot her down before she made it into Mexico. The second was her fear that Papi would murder her the moment she stepped off the plane.

A vulpine smile grew on Jenny’s face as she envisioned a fifteen kiloton uranium bomb exploding near Alexus’s family. If such a thing were to happen, the Costilla Family fortune would have to be left to either Jenny or Flako—unless Alexus had a written will leaving the fortune to some kind of charity. And, sure, the U.S. government would assassinate Jenny once they learned that she’d actually been behind the HEU thefts, but that didn’t matter. As long as Santiago, her second child, inherited at least ten billion dollars, she knew he’d be the next leader of the cartel. And that’s all she wanted. No more half blacks running the show.

Jenny set the Nook aside and poured herself a glass of Cristal champagne, wondering where she was going to find a nuclear physicist that would build the bomb for her without sneaking off to report it to the U.S. government.

She had a remedy for that, too.





Chapter 19

Two Months Later, June, 5, 2012…

Blake’s debut album sold a million copies the week it was released, a feat that hadn’t transpired since Lil’ Wayne’s The Carter III. The unexpected success of his album—the media attributed it to his relationship with Alexus—galvanized concert-goers nationwide and sent MBM Street King Tour ticket sales through the roof. By the first day of June, Blake’s album had sold 2.8 million copies, and he’d performed at twenty-seven sold out venues, mostly stadiums and amphitheaters. Due to him being the CEO of Money Bagz Management, he received seventy four percent of the proceeds from his album sales, which, after fifteen percent in tax deductions, added up to twenty-one million and some change he’d accumulated off the twelve-dollar records, and he was averaging $1.2 million every show after taxes. Not to mention the $4.9 million off the mix-tapes his other artists had dropped and the $62 million he’d made in drug money. Last week’s Forbes had named him “Hip-Hop’s Six Hundred Million Dollar CEO,” completely unaware of his other $232 million.

Today was his off day, and he was sitting courtside at the Celtics and Heat game inside the American Airlines Arena in Miami; clad in a white tee shirt with MBM printed on its chest in big black letters, baggy white Akoo jeans, and, of course, lots of Louis Vuitton, from his white, left leaning skull cap, to his shades, belt, and sneakers. An assortment of white diamond jewelry blinged on his neck, wrists, pinkies and earlobes.

Alexus was seated next to him in a white Roberto Cavalli jumpsuit and white suede Giuseppe Zanotti booties. Birdman of Cash Money Records sat a few seats down from them, dressed in all black with his fitted cap pointing backwards.

“I really don’t see what’s so exciting about basketball,” Alexus said, staring down at her iPad. She was watching the season finale of BET’s The Game on the thin computer tablet.

Blake chuckled. “Baby, this is game five of the Eastern Conference Finals. I got a million dollars ridin’ on this game.”

“So what?” She shrugged her shoulders. “It’s still stupid.”

“You could’ve stayed home if you didn’t wanna come. I told you that before we left.” By ‘home’ he meant the twenty-million-dollar Miami mansion he’d purchased last year during their brief split.

Alexus sucked her teeth and then said nothing for the rest of the game. Her attitude didn’t surprise Blake. She’d been speaking flippantly to him ever since his music manager had phoned them with the news that his album was certified platinum. Even on the twenty first of April, when he had rented out the entire Six Flags Great Adventure in Jackson, New Jersey and spent the day there with Alexus and a handful of their closest friends, having fun and celebrating her twentieth birthday, she still had spoken bitterly, arguing with him over the most frivolous, insignificant things.

And slowly but surely, he was getting fed up with her bullshit. He was bossed up, sitting on eight hundred and thirty million dollars. Bad bitches, movie actresses, sexy models from all over the world—all of them were practically begging to give Bulletface some *. Yet here he was, being faithful to a woman that didn’t even appreciate his presence; turning down hundreds of women at his shows only to be berated over the phone once he made it back to his tour bus.