Chapter 1
One
Cameron
I honestly can’t believe my drug money has paid for this fucking overpriced fake-ass wedding.
As I looked around at the décor – farmhouse, no less – I’m slowly counting the million-dollar price tag. Eli D’Amato did the flowers so that already was six figures. Everywhere I turn, I see nothing but roses, gardenias, and some other shit I can’t pronounce, and honestly, I don’t care about it.
Zoe D’Amato did Jamie’s custom-made outfits, so that’s another six figures. She needed four – one for the engagement party, one for the wedding, one for the reception, and one for tomorrow’s brunch. All of the bridesmaids – Taylor included – also received a custom-made gown.
Ian Ferguson was flown in with some of his staff to cater the affair; again, another six figures. I can’t front on that one, though. The food is slammin’. Filet mignon, lobster rolls, pureed vegetables, and the biggest damn charcuterie board I’ve ever seen in my life.
Everything was ethically sourced, and Jamie made sure it was.
She kept her five million YouTube followers abreast of everything.
All the digital likes and hair pats she’d received just made her more popular.
She somehow united both the leftist and conservative Karens. You know white women love weddings.
I can’t complain. I’m in a private suite by myself, and I’ve enjoyed my time.
Between family gatherings, I’ve been on the phone and online with various contacts all over the world to make sure everything still runs smoothly.
Despite what my future brother-in-law thinks and his fellow packs of bacon, none of my drugs ever touch Atlanta.
Remember when Biggie said never get high off your supply?
Instead, they’re in D.C. They’re in the Midwest. They’re in conservative pockets in the blue states. They’re in the club scene in Miami.
And these drugs are especially in Congress. Does anyone honestly think those politicians are doing everything sober? They may not be drunk but they’re definitely higher than a giraffe’s pussy. My cocaine has been the backbone of several useless bills and referendums passed.
Don’t shoot me, I’m just the supplier.
I can’t worry about any of that now. I’m here in a shared hotel suite with my daughter’s mother and our daughter. I absolutely refuse to call Taylor a baby mama; she’s much more than that. She’s my everything.
She’s also made it very clear she stays on her side, and I stay on mine.
She’s still angry with me about, well, everything. Our relationship. What happened to her family. What happened to Tesh and Ayesha. Her strained relationship with her Granny. I would be lying if I said I was part of the cause of all that.
But let me be very clear – I was not the root cause of any of it. All of that will be told in due time.
For now, I’m playing with our daughter as Taylor is in the bridal suite getting ready with the rest of the pecking hens. To my surprise, she wasn’t the only Black face in the bridesmaid group, and even Ethan’s groomsmen looked like an ad for the United Colors of Benetton.
Bobby and his wife are also in the wedding party and in their respective suites. Needless to say, I wasn’t included in the bridal party for obvious reasons. No matter how much it would look good for all of the Pages to be in the wedding party, I also know how it looks for me to be included.
Everyone knows what I do for a living and knows how much Ethan has been gunning for me ever since. Everyone also knows that if Ethan even tries one thing against me, he’ll be going against my father and his resources. Even Ethan has to admit he doesn’t want a fight with the CIA.
But for now, I have to remain calm and focused. My beef isn’t with Ethan, despite how much he wants to believe. I have bigger fish to fry and just like what Jay-Z said, I got 99 problems and a bitch ain’t one.
It’s Pharaoh.
We’ve played it cool since he and his crew took out Ayesha, and I returned the favor by taking out most of his crew in front of him.
But we’re not at a stalemate. The ball is in his court, and he’s trying to think how he’s going to proceed.
He’s waiting for me to relax and be calm before I’m caught off guard again.
That has never been my style.
The moment I relax is the moment my opps will surprise me in the worst way. I found that out with Lamont’s death. I found that out with Laurie’s and Alicia’s deaths. And I especially found that out on the day Mia was born, when I was arrested at the hospital.
The streets are restless. People are broke, hungry, and itching for payback against someone – anyone – they can find. I’m here to satisfy their needs. No, I don’t want beef with them; I want them to work for me.
Everyone always says they wouldn’t do something no matter how much money they were offered. I always call bullshit:
Everyone has a price. Everyone.
“Hey yo,” Que comes in with Roadie in tow, “we ready to hang out with the white people today and all their bullshit?”
“Ready,” I stand up with Mia and gather her diaper bag. “Did everything go as planned?”
“Smoother than a cruise ship,” Roadie promises. “It’s just a matter of time before everyone finds out.”
“Good.” I nod. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
~~~~~~
THE WEDDING WENT OFF without a hitch. Under the perfect sky and surrounded by 300 people, including Congress members, Atlanta P.D., and even a few select influencers, Jamie and Ethan got married.
After the ceremony, we all gathered for various photos. In the family photo that will be plastered all over social media and hanging above my parents’ mantle, everyone is included. I’m standing with Taylor and Mia, while Ethan’s family is also included.
The photographer does a variety of family photos with us, and Jamie and I are alone in one. We plaster the biggest, fake smiles for the camera, despite everything. We never addressed what happened on the day Mia was born and what better time than the present to hash everything out.
“You’re on your best behavior today, Cam,” Jamie compliments me as I stand with her and our brother, Bobby. “I’m very proud of you.”
“After the money I’ve spent on this wedding, why wouldn’t I behave?” I smile brightly for the photos. “It’s a beautiful wedding.”
“Still,” Jamie continues to look straight at the camera, “you didn’t have to come at all.”
“No, I insist,” I reply, “I wouldn’t miss this day for the world. My baby sister is getting married? Come on, now. Even if I had a valid reason, I would never hear the end of it from mom and Dad.”
Jamie turns to me and tries to read my face. She’s studying my eyes and little details to get a good read. I ain’t giving her shit. “You’re up to something.”
“Oh, that’s a great one! Smile at each other!” The photographer directs us.
“I’m up to absolutely nothing.” My smile is wide, but my voice is flatter than a marble table.
Jamie follows our lead. Bobby leaves to rejoin his family while Jamie and I continue with the photos.
No matter how much Jamie loves to spiel she can’t stand our parents’ political beliefs, being around politicians our entire lives has clearly rubbed off on her.
“Listen, I don’t know what you and Ethan have going on between you, but you’d better stop before someone gets hurt. ”
“Now, did he also get the same advice from you, or am I just the lucky one?” I ask.
“I mean it, Cameron,” Jamie’s voice has a bite of anger, “this has gone on too long and too far. People have died. Property has been destroyed. Enough is enough.”
“Okay, not turn around with your backs together and arms folded!” The photographer instructs before she takes a few pictures. “Yes, just like that! Perfect!”
“In case you forgot, your husband isn’t just targeting me but also Dad?
” I reply, and Jamie sighs. I touched a nerve she’s been ignoring.
Our father had already told Ethan to shut up and eat his food.
Ethan goes after me, and it’ll be our father he’ll have to deal with.
“And where would that leave Mom? Oh, maybe you don’t care about Mom like that if you think an outsider should rule what goes on in this family?
I guess it was a problem when Jacqueline did it. But with Ethan, it’s not?”
“Don’t give me that bullshit!” Jamie harshly replies in a whisper and turns around for another pose. “You damn well know the difference between the two!”
“And so do you,” I reply. “You scream Black Lives Matter until the cows come home, quote Stokely Carmichael to infinity, but the first man you marry is the epitome of Blue Lives Matter.”
“Oh, I know you’re not calling me racist when your whole group of friends are Black men who report to you.
They always seem to get caught, and you always seem to evade any charges.
But I’m not surprised. Why would you, Mr. White Man, do any dirty work when you get a Black man to do it for you? ” Jamie retorts.
“You want to talk about my bodies; how many dead Black bodies does your husband have?” I stare down at her. “Racism got your tongue?”
Jamie stares at me with a fire burning in her eyes. “I’m warning you, Cameron, leave it alone.”
“And I’m telling you, Jamie, I’ll leave it alone when he does.” I stare back at her. “Your new husband purposely ruined the best day of my life and never apologized for it,” I speak lowly, “why would either of you think I was going to let that slide?”
“You hurt him, and I’ll never forgive you.” She warns.
I smile at her. “I’m willing to live with that.”