
Polo and Carter had known each other since they were young and hardheaded coming up in the trenches of Dade County. They quickly formed a brotherly bond as they took over the streets and inevitably entered the drug game. The Cartel was what they were labeled, a notorious, criminal-minded organization that was willing to stay on top by any means necessary. Carter and Polo had put in work for many years and worked hard to surround themselves with thoroughbreds that respected the hustle of the streets as much as they did. They earned money, power, and respect.
That is, until the Haitians from Little Haiti discovered the money that was being made and tried to muscle them out of town.
Carter’s demise proved to Polo that the Haitians weren’t to be taken lightly. He just hated that it took the death of their leader to figure that out. Nobody was untouchable. Now he had a nagging pain in his heart, and the stress of retaliation on his brain, but he knew that his hurt didn’t compare to that of Carter’s family.
When he pulled into the driveway to the ten-room, 7,000-square-foot home, he prepared himself for the heartache that he was about to encounter. Polo personally made sure that Carter’s wife and children were taken care of. He knew that they would be okay financially, but he was determined to ensure their safety. No expense was spared when it came to the security of their family. There were about ten armed henchmen stationed outside of the house, and he acknowledged them with a nod as he passed by and walked into the Diamond home.
