Mecca knew that things would get tight for everybody with Carter locked up. The government had frozen all of their legitimate accounts; even Diamond Realty profits could not be touched until a resolution to Carter’s case was reached. Everyone, including Mecca, was living temporarily off of whatever money had flown under the radar; but random money that had been stashed in safes wasn’t enough for men who spent it as if it grew on trees. Between the two of them, they had a little over a million dollars, but with Carter’s case eating into their finances and a paranoid cocaine connection, that large sum of petty cash was dwindling by the day.

“What time do you have to meet the lawyers?” Mecca asked.

“In about an hour. After that, I plan on checking in with Carter. I need to let him know what’s going on, and he’s been asking me to check for his chick, Miamor,” Zyir replied.

“Tell him to stop looking,” Mecca stated coldly.

“What?” Zyir questioned. “You know he ain’t gonna stop looking for her. That’s his bitch.”

Mecca removed the scowl from his face and replied, “I heard she left town, so tell him to stop worrying about a bitch. We gotta keep his mind right so he can beat this case.”

Overwhelmed and worried about the state of his family’s empire, Mecca sighed. “I’ll drop that payment off to the lawyer. You holla at Carter. Let him know what’s been going on. See what he want us to do to stay afloat.”

As Mecca watched Zyir leave, he collapsed back into his father’s chair. The throne that he had sat on for many years seemed too big for Mecca, the responsibilities of heading The Cartel too daunting for a hothead like Mecca. Mecca was built to be in the game. He was a goon, a killer, and his natural born hustle was innate, but being the leader had never been his forte. That role had better suited his twin brother, Money.