Chapter Eleven
Xyleek
“Bring the lights down some,” I said, squinting at the tray of stones laid out across the black velvet backdrop.
The overhead lights dimmed a little more as I slid my hands into my custom gloves with TDC stitched on the inner wrist. Everything about my business was custom because I was a one of one type of nigga.
I didn’t believe in re-creating someone else’s work nor did I believe in creating the same thing twice.
Once we created a design, we archived it so that it could never be used again.
When people said The Diamond Chambers, they knew that there was a certain air of exclusivity that came with that, just how I intended it to be.
Every quarter, I released a collection at every location and once it was sold out, then there was never a chance to get it again.
Unless they bought the jewelry from the original owner, and the odds of the original owner letting one of my pieces go were slim to none.
Money always talked but diamonds appreciated over time, especially rare ones, so people weren’t trying to let those go that easy.
Stony, my lead designer, stood to the left of me and I could almost hear her heart beating wildly in her chest. The new collection we were working on, Darling Angel, had me on edge because I wanted to make sure every single piece of it was perfect.
It was the last quarter, which meant the last drop of the year, and I needed everything to be on point.
Of course, it was dedicated to Dreka, so I felt like the pressure was really on to get every cut and setting right.
Feeling the pressure meant I wasn’t the friendliest at work, but my employees understood that I expected perfection and nothing less.
They got paid a damn good salary for me to see and hold perfection in my hands.
“The cut on this is too shallow,” I told her after inspecting the first pair of earrings on the backdrop.
“We can re-cut it and—”
“No,” I shook my head and glared at her. “Re-cut sounds too much like recreate, which we don’t do. Send it back to Mumbai.”
“Yes sir,” using her stylus, she scribbled on her iPad.
Resuming my inspection of the pieces in front of me. The choker was beautiful with its alternating heart shaped and round cut diamonds. They were arranged in an intricate design that Stony had created where angel wings formed where the clasp met.
“The cut on this is fuckin’ perfect,” I beamed, ready to call Dreka to show her. “What’s the color grade?”
“Fancy vivid pink. It’s five carats that we got from the Argyle mine prior to its closure,” she informed me, still holding her breath.
Staring at it through my loupes, my jaw muscles tensed at how brilliant it was. Pink diamonds were rare, which made the choker even more rare, especially with my brand stamped on it.
“Mmhmm,” I nodded in approval, turning to face her.
“This collection isn’t for everyone, Sto.
This collection is for muthafuckas who understand what it means to be truly devoted to something.
They don’t buy diamonds for the glitz and glam of it, they buy them for how they feel,” I pointed at the tray.
“Every single piece needs to carry emotion, and I think we’re almost there.
Send that bullshit diamond on the first set of earrings back and update the insurance policy on that choker. Value it at twenty.”
“It appraised for fifteen, Xy.”
“And I said value it at twenty. For one, that appraiser be on bullshit because I’m a young, black nigga having my way.
I already feel like he be fuckin’ up, even if he is the so-called best in the business.
The piece is worth twenty, and muthafuckas would be willing to pay twenty-five, if I’m being honest,” I removed my gloves.
“Run the certification through GIA tonight, and I want For My Darling Angel engraved on every piece.”
“Yes sir,” she scribbled some more while nodding.
The best part about having Stony was that I knew she got shit done. When I gave her instructions, she followed them to a T. Truthfully, I was molding her into a mini me. I needed someone around who had a love for diamonds as I did and knew exactly what they were looking at and for.
Stepping out of the room, I took my phone out of my pocket after feeling it vibrate. “What’s the word, Big Blow?”
“All twenty carats hit the dock,” he responded, letting me know that the order of two hundred kilos of coke had made it through the water. “We’re all good.”
“Beautiful. Make sure they’re handled delicately. I only want you and Jah’s hands on them, that’s it, Blow.”
“I gotchu.”
The call disconnected and before I could even make it upstairs to my office, my phone was ringing again. This time, it was a number that I didn’t have saved, and if I’d learned anything about unsaved numbers, it was that there was some bullshit on the other end. I answered anyway though.
“Yeah?”
“H-hi, is this Xyleek Chambers?”
Just from the tone alone, I could tell the woman on the other end was a snow bunny. The difference in pitches were unmistakable. To my ears, black women’s voices and tones sounded like warm honey and love. White women’s voices sounded sharp, dry, and thin…. much like their lips.
“It is. Who is this?”
“I’m sorry, I never told you my name when you stopped by. My name is Abegail. You came by Mr. Hubert’s house inquiring about a car that was used in a robbery at your wife’s shop?”
“Miss Frizzle,” I grinned, making my way up to my office. “Yeah, I remember. What can I do for you?”
“I’ve been able to track down who has the car now.”
My eyebrows raised in amusement even though she couldn’t see me. “Yeah? You’ve been doing hella research if you were able to track them down.”
“I have…” she paused momentarily. “I have a daughter who is special needs and her medical bills are…extensive, to say the least. You said there was a reward in the information, so I’ve been working non-stop to get you what you need so that I can try to get out of this medical debt. Even if it’s just a little bit.”
Hearing the weariness in her voice pulled at my heart strings.
I knew a tired mother when I heard one because my mother used to be one.
I vowed that I’d take care of my mom so that she never had to work three and four jobs to take care of me and Vani.
We might’ve lived in the suburbs but that was only because my mother worked so damn hard to get us there.
When I was twenty-six, I officially retired my mother, and she hadn’t had to worry about a thing in life since.
It was obvious Miss Frizzle was a good mom, even though I truly didn’t know her.
“Yeah, I did say that. Um, will you be free to meet in an hour?”
“If you can meet me at Northside Park. That’s where I take my daughter on my off days.”
Checking my Rolex, I nodded. “Bet. I can be there in an hour. I’ll call you once I’m there.”
“Okay.”
My mouth was damn near salivating thinking about how close I was to getting the information I needed.
The cops hadn’t been able to find shit that was useful, which didn’t surprise me.
Dreka just wanted to put it behind her, but it was always at the forefront of my mind that someone had violated in a crazy way.
The fact that no one was talking about let me know that whoever it was that broke in knew better than to brag about it.
“I’m good,” I told Dean and Ashaun as I headed to the front door. “I’ll be right back.”
Even though I told frick and frack that I was good, they followed behind me anyway, hopping in their Suburban. Them niggas didn’t listen for shit. Starting my BMW up, I got the AC blowing to cool the interior off while placing a Facetime call to Drek.
“Wassup?” she answered on the second ring.
“Why yo phone ring twice, Angel?”
She sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes. “Nigga, you got some good ass pussy and sloppyyyy head this morning, and you wanna be on some bullshit when it’s barely noon?”
“Mm,” I chuckled at her feisty attitude. “I love when you fussing at me.”
“Yeah, I know you do, weirdo. What’s going on?”
I debated on if I wanted to tell her what I was about to go do. I wanted to keep the line of communication between us as open as possible, but I also didn’t want to tell her until I had something solid.
“Nothin’. I missed your pretty face. I just finished looking at the new collection.”
“Yeah? It’s nice?”
“Fire. It represents you so well, my darling angel,” I winked at her.
She giggled and blushed. “I still can’t believe I’ll have my own collection at the Diamond Chambers. I feel a lil’ special.”
“Mmhmm, you should, Angel. Your legacy will be etched in stones, literally, for life.”
“Yeah, that’s kinda cool,” she smiled slightly.
“I gotta handle some business, but can I pull up and eat it after I’m done?” I pressed like the fiend that I was.
“Xyleek.”
I licked my lips. “Yes?”
“No.”
“Okay. See you in a minute,” I hung up on her ass.
I didn’t give a fuck what Angel was talking about.
She couldn’t deny me access to my nourishment.
That’s the type of shit that’d get someone locked up for neglect, and I knew for a fact she wasn’t trying to go back to jail.
If she didn’t feed me though, I’d have no choice but to call the police and make a report.
Tossing my phone in the passenger seat, I maneuvered out of the parking spot and headed to the park. My jewelry store was out of the way, so it took me a little longer to get back to the main part of the city. Nearly an hour later, I was arriving and parking.
“What’s going on, Xy?” Dean rolled down the window on the truck as I got out.
“I’m just meeting with someone who has information I need. Give me fifteen.”
His head rocked once, so I stepped off in search of Miss Frizzle. I figured it wouldn’t be hard to spot her orange hair, and I was right. She was standing near the playground where a bunch of kids were running around.
“I can see which one is yours,” I stood next to her, instantly noticing the little girl who appeared to have Down Syndrome. Her hair was just as orange as her mother’s. “She’s beautiful.”
Her lips pulled into a faint smile. “Thank you. Heidi. That’s her name. She’s eight.”
“And her father?” I probed with my hands behind my back, watching kids be kids.
“Murdered when she was only two.”
Glancing down at Miss Frizzle, I started to feel bad for her. “Damn. I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Yeah. So…it’s just been the two of us. My family is disgusted by her and hate to go out in public with us.”
“That’s fucked up. I think all children are God’s gift to the Earth. Fuck your family though,” I said with a straight face.
She laughed with a sincere smile. “Right, fuck those people. So,” she cleared her throat, and her expression became serious again. “I can e-mail you the information I was able to get. I did confirm with the owner of the car that they’ve had it for the last two years.”
“Good shit, Miss Frizzle,” I smirked. “You know their name?”
She snickered, shook her head and slipped her phone from her pocket. “Cassie Cooke.”
“Cassie?” I pondered out loud, trying to remember if I’d ever fucked a damn Cassie. That was gon’ be hard though, considering that I didn’t remember the names of most of the women I fucked.
“Yes. I lied and told her that the family had been trying to track down the cars for some insurance shit. She believed it and said she would get the car put in her name,” she smiled like she was satisfied with her detective work. “Though, I don’t exactly believe she will.”
“No? Why’s that?”
“She just didn’t strike me as the kind of person that lives a lifestyle where she would want a car in her name, you know?
She lives in a sketchy neighborhood, she herself was acting sketchy when I was talking with her.
My gut is telling me that she’ll ditch the car before she puts it in her name, but I emailed you over her address, phone number, and a copy of her driver’s license. ”
Usually, white people didn’t impress me because I felt like they always had the upper hand in life anyway. Miss Frizzle, however, had just impressed the fuck out of me.
“You have no idea how much this means to me or my wife, Miss Frizzle. And if you give me until the end of the day, I’ll have your daughter’s medical bills taken care of, and you will also receive a payment for your services.”
Her jaw dropped and tears pooled in her eyes. “Wait…w-w-what? I thought…”
“I know, but I can tell how much you love your daughter, and I fully believe in supporting single mothers. I’ll give my accountant your name and number, and she’ll be in touch with you,” I told her, sending a text to my accountant, Karmen, to let her know what I needed.
“Thank you so much!” She wept, squatting down as she covered her face.
“Oh my God, thank you so much! You have no idea that I just prayed for this very thing months ago,” she turned her head to look up at me.
“I prayed for a miracle to have my daughter’s medical expenses wiped clean and… and here you are! God sent you!”
God might’ve sent me to her, but the devil damn sure was rolling with me to that address.
We chopped it for a few more minutes and after Karmen confirmed that she’d get it done, I left Miss Frizzle and her daughter to it.
Quickly filling Dean and Ashaun in on what’d just happened, I got back in my car and damn near flew to the address.
I needed to see who this Cassie bitch was, figure out if I fucked her or not, and then permanently remove the air from her chest.
Luck was on my side because two minutes after I parked, the front door opened, and a woman stepped out with a bag of trash.
Leaning forward, I studied her face that looked oddly familiar.
I knew there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that I’d fucked her though because she almost looked like a man.
If it wasn’t for the fact that she was wearing a sports bra, displaying her big ass titties, I would’ve thought she was a man.
“Gabriae,” I whispered to myself, realizing that’s who the stud looked like.
Leaning back in my seat, I thought back to the hospital when Gabriae told me that she and her sister didn’t talk.
The nigga I was looking at was clearly Gab’s sister, which meant Gabriae had to be the one behind the break-in at the shop and used her sister to do it.
Originally, I planned to kill Cassie, but I came up with a different plan that would result in hers and her sister’s death.