Read Online Tiffany and Dior: Love in Las Vegas Streets by Ameerah Cooper - Free Book Online
Authors: Ameerah Cooper
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richer. They laughed at him for wanting to make a deal like that. In their eyes he was just a pretty boy from the states. Did he really think he would be able to sell that much weight and make a million in four such short weeks?
They had seen so many hustlers come and go. They grew tired of hustlers coming to buy their drugs hoping it would buy their freedom but it didn’t. They would end up dead or in jail before they could even see one million dollars.
Black was unlike the average hustler. He was a sharp thinker, and he was determined to prove them wrong. He made a deal that if he made a million dollars in one month, they would have to supply him five years’ worth of their best product and he would have to give him the young Mexican woman, who spent a decade trapped in a dungeon underneath them. He didn’t know her but when he saw the hurt and pain in her eyes, his heart went out to her.
Black was a sincere type of man. He believed that he always had to save someone. He was very compassionate when it came down to women.
To them she was a worthless whore who belonged to them to pay off her father’s debt. They ripped away her family and took advantage of her womanhood. What more could they do? Black’s mind was made up. He wanted the drugs and he was going to save the young woman.
They shook hands and in less than a few weeks Black was back as promised. After he got what was owed they still had not release her. He ended up killing one of the leaders in Arturo’s cartel. Black let Hector Arturo know that if he didn’t let Teresa go he would go on a killing spree. But that was six bodies later. Arturo had no choice but to let Teresa go. He granted Teresa her freedom and supplied Black with his five-year drug plan.
Coming to America Teresa barely spoke English. Black’s gave Teresa an apartment and a job as his maid. All she had to do was cook and clean his house. Because he saved her life she would always remain loyal to him. She developed a motherly bond with him. It showed in how well she cleaned his house and cooked his food.
Reality had set in and I felt sorry for her, I thought to myself as I stared at her while she continued to set the table. I knew she wanted to be home with her two toddler twin girls instead of here with us. Without any complaint, she came to work faithfully and did as she was told until her shift ended.
“Good morning Demetrius,” I spoke first.
“Good morning, Tiffany,” he said as he continued to read from the newspaper, not looking up once to acknowledge my presence.
I reached under the table, plucking Mason on his knee to get his attention. I was happy he loved his new device, but I warned him to keep it in his room and not bring it downstairs.
“Ouch!”
“Put that game away and say good morning,” I murmured.
“Good morning, Uncle Black,” he uttered reluctantly.
“Mason, tell your sister Tiffany how we’re supposed to speak every time we greet each other,” he said in a sarcastic tone as he darted his eyes over at me. Black put his newspaper down, giving us his undivided attention.
“As-salamu alaikum.” Mason looked over at me then at Black.
I sat there speechless. I was born and raised a Christian and there was no doubt in my mind that my lord and savior was real, but when it came down to Black he wanted control over everything. He wanted me to take my shahada and pretend like Jesus wasn’t God in my heart. I would never convert to being Muslim without understanding what I was practicing and I damn sure wasn’t going to do it for a man. I was eager to learn about his religion so that we could bond better until he did something I couldn’t forgive him for.
My mind flashed back to a few years ago.
“You will praise Allah, in my presence,” Black said to me in
They had seen so many hustlers come and go. They grew tired of hustlers coming to buy their drugs hoping it would buy their freedom but it didn’t. They would end up dead or in jail before they could even see one million dollars.
Black was unlike the average hustler. He was a sharp thinker, and he was determined to prove them wrong. He made a deal that if he made a million dollars in one month, they would have to supply him five years’ worth of their best product and he would have to give him the young Mexican woman, who spent a decade trapped in a dungeon underneath them. He didn’t know her but when he saw the hurt and pain in her eyes, his heart went out to her.
Black was a sincere type of man. He believed that he always had to save someone. He was very compassionate when it came down to women.
To them she was a worthless whore who belonged to them to pay off her father’s debt. They ripped away her family and took advantage of her womanhood. What more could they do? Black’s mind was made up. He wanted the drugs and he was going to save the young woman.
They shook hands and in less than a few weeks Black was back as promised. After he got what was owed they still had not release her. He ended up killing one of the leaders in Arturo’s cartel. Black let Hector Arturo know that if he didn’t let Teresa go he would go on a killing spree. But that was six bodies later. Arturo had no choice but to let Teresa go. He granted Teresa her freedom and supplied Black with his five-year drug plan.
Coming to America Teresa barely spoke English. Black’s gave Teresa an apartment and a job as his maid. All she had to do was cook and clean his house. Because he saved her life she would always remain loyal to him. She developed a motherly bond with him. It showed in how well she cleaned his house and cooked his food.
Reality had set in and I felt sorry for her, I thought to myself as I stared at her while she continued to set the table. I knew she wanted to be home with her two toddler twin girls instead of here with us. Without any complaint, she came to work faithfully and did as she was told until her shift ended.
“Good morning Demetrius,” I spoke first.
“Good morning, Tiffany,” he said as he continued to read from the newspaper, not looking up once to acknowledge my presence.
I reached under the table, plucking Mason on his knee to get his attention. I was happy he loved his new device, but I warned him to keep it in his room and not bring it downstairs.
“Ouch!”
“Put that game away and say good morning,” I murmured.
“Good morning, Uncle Black,” he uttered reluctantly.
“Mason, tell your sister Tiffany how we’re supposed to speak every time we greet each other,” he said in a sarcastic tone as he darted his eyes over at me. Black put his newspaper down, giving us his undivided attention.
“As-salamu alaikum.” Mason looked over at me then at Black.
I sat there speechless. I was born and raised a Christian and there was no doubt in my mind that my lord and savior was real, but when it came down to Black he wanted control over everything. He wanted me to take my shahada and pretend like Jesus wasn’t God in my heart. I would never convert to being Muslim without understanding what I was practicing and I damn sure wasn’t going to do it for a man. I was eager to learn about his religion so that we could bond better until he did something I couldn’t forgive him for.
My mind flashed back to a few years ago.
“You will praise Allah, in my presence,” Black said to me in
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