There was an eerie feeling in the air, and everyone there could sense it. As the preacher held the Holy Bible tightly in his hand and read from the book of Psalms, a stretch limo with tinted windows rolled up slowly about fifty yards away from the service. Many people didn’t notice it, but the trained eyes were glued to the approaching vehicle.

Emilio Estes looked back and saw the limo pull up, and he watched as it came to a slow stop. Estes knew exactly who it was; it was the crew responsible for the very funeral he was at. Emilio, being in his mid-sixties and not willing to step back into the streets, conceded defeat and pulled his white handkerchief from the top pocket of his suit.

To many, it looked as if Emilio was just removing a hanky, but veterans of the street game knew what that small gesture meant. Emilio wanted the bloodshed to stop, and signaled that he would not retaliate. The war was finally over and The Cartel was no more. Literally, he was waving a white flag. It was officially The Cartel’s last chapter.

Chapter One

“Bad girls die slow.”

– Fabian

The blood in Miamor’s eyes blocked out the image of Fabian standing over her, and her shallow, desperate breaths drowned out all sounds in the room. Death loomed over her. She knew it was near. The chill in her lovely bones was every indication that her life was slipping away.

A breathless Fabian stood over her. Her tormentor, her grim reaper leered at her menacingly. The smug grin on his face sickened her as her heart filled with hate for him. It pleased him to watch her die. It was vindication for the hell that she had once put him through, and she knew that the lifestyle she led had ultimately determined the cruel way in which she was about to die.