The Cartel - Ashley Antoinette Snell [101]
Chapter Twenty-three
“Yuh a long way from Miami.”
—Ma’tee
Ma’tee moved around the kitchen swiftly as he prepared a meal for his new companion. He looked at the security monitors that he had installed in each room of his immaculate home in his native land of Haiti. He had become extra cautious, some would even say paranoid, since the invasion of his home at the hands of Estes. It was the same day that fate had robbed him of his beautiful little girl.
The fresh Caribbean wind tickled Ma’tee’s neck and his paranoia kicked in full throttle, causing him to turn around with a butcher knife clasped tightly in his hand. He sliced at an imaginary enemy, and his breathing was labored as his eyes bucked wide open. He looked around in panic, but calmed himself down when he realized that there was no one else in the room.
Although he loved his homeland and its majestic tropical setting, he hated been forced out of the States by The Cartel. His entire organization had been dismantled. His most loyal soldiers were now casualties of a drug war that he himself had initiated. He was like a pariah on the streets of Miami, and to show his face right then would’ve been like committing suicide. So he didn’t have a choice but to stay low.
No one knew Haiti like Ma’tee knew it, and in order to stay alive, he needed to be in his own neck of the woods.
In fear of his life, he retreated to the Black Mountains. No one knew of his home there, and he was confident that he would be safe and could live without the intrusion of his adversaries. There were no neighbors. His 5,000-square foot home sat atop a plateau that went on for miles and miles. It was 4,000 feet above the town below, too high for sight or sound to be captured by the townspeople. He was in complete seclusion and planned to stay there until he could rebuild his empire.
He would get his revenge for the undeserving murder of his daughter. His daughter had been innocent, but she was forced to pay with her life when the Dominican mob annihilated his men. The Dominicans had taken no prisoners and felt sympathy for no one, not even his only child. When she was murdered in cold blood, Ma’tee’s world came crashing down around him because he knew that he only had himself to blame. If they can do this to me beautiful princess, what do they have planned for me? His body shuddered at the thought and he knew that he didn’t want to find out what cruelty lie in store for him.
The only time he intended to leave his fortress was when he planned to make the trip to the market for food and supplies, and his only human contact would be that of his new queen. The woman that he knew was meant for him. The voyeur in him watched her in the monitors as she slept, and a wicked smile crept across his face. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the monitor.
Since the death of his daughter, he hadn’t been the same. Something in his head, or rather his heart, was broken, and he no longer respected the social limits of right and wrong. He was no longer the composed, selfrespecting man that he once was. He was now a predator, and he was staring at his prey on the monitor. His dick hardened at the sight of her. She was beautiful, and he was well aware of his growing obsession.
He was supposed to kill her, that was the plan, but once their kidnapping scheme had gone wrong, he and the Murder Mamas decided it was time for Breeze to go. When it was time to pull the trigger, he couldn’t will himself to complete the task. He was drawn to her beauty, which was just as addictive as the cocaine he sold. So instead of killing her, he drugged her and then retreated with her, taking her across the U.S. border on a private boat.
Ma’tee fixated and fantasized over his new island beauty. He admired her slim frame, her long flexible legs, and her naturally curly hair. He was positive that he loved her,