Murderville (14 page)

“You don’t ever have to thank me. You are my son, and you mean the world to me.”

Baron smiled as he looked over at his son, A’shai, who sat across from him. A’shai had just graduated the day before in Michigan and already they were across the coast in L.A.

They sat in the back of the luxury stretch limo, sipping champagne while waiting on the “special call.” They both wore black tuxedos accented with silk bowties and diamond cufflinks. Presidential would be an understated way to describe the way the two men looked on that night. It was a special night and both of them could feel the electricity in the air. It was the night of The Gentleman’s Ball, the single most exclusive ball of the year. Only politicians, millionaires, and bosses attended the private affair. The location of the event was kept secret for up to twenty minutes prior to the start time. Each man or entourage was told that they would receive a phone call to notify them of the location and only people on the guest list would be allowed to enter. It was very private and Baron had the pleasure of attending the same ball a few years back. He thought bringing A’shai was a great way to celebrate his accomplishment. He also knew that it was a good way to get A’shai’s feet wet in the corporate black market.

“You know, your mother was very proud of you yesterday,” Baron said as he poured champagne into the flute. A’shai smiled and nodded his head as he remained silent. They sat in parking lot of the Hilton that they were staying in and like clockwork, the phone rang exactly twenty minutes before 10
P.M
. Baron picked up his phone and pushed the talk button.

“Hello,” he said as he waited for the voice on the other end. A man told him the address to the ball and hung up. And just like that, they were headed to the secret location.

The prestigious hotel was closed down for the night. The sign out front read:

CLOSED FOR CONSTRUCTION

However, the hotel was actually about to host L.A.’s most exclusive event. Limos lined up in the back of the hotel as men entered through the rear entrance. It was a black tie affair so every man wore a black tuxedo with black tie. As Baron’s and A’shai’s limo pulled to the back curb, both men admired the beautiful women who stood outside acting as personal hostesses, one for each car that pulled up. A tall blonde beauty opened the door for them and stepped to the side so they could walk on the red carpet that led to the back entrance.

“Welcome to The Gentlemen’s Ball,” the exquisite woman said.

“Thank you,” Baron said as he stepped out of the car and reached into his pocket. He slid a crispy $100 into the woman’s hand, and she accepted it gladly. She placed the bill inside of her cleavage and smiled. A’shai stepped out and fixed his cufflinks, and they headed into the building. As they walked inside, masquerade masks were handed to them, and they were ordered to put them on to conceal their identities. As soon as they put the masks on, they were greeted by another hostess who handed them each a hand-rolled Cuban cigar along with a flute of the finest champagne. She then pulled a lighter from her cleavage and lit the cigars for them both. Baron took a puff and smiled.

“This is good right here,” he complimented as he tasted the expensive cigar. He was a consummate connoisseur of cigars and could smell good Cuban smoke from a mile away. A’shai also hit his cigar and they proceeded through the room. The immaculate showroom was nothing short of amazing. An immense stage sat in the middle of the floor that had a runway attached to it. The theme of the ball was black and white. The porcelain floors on the stage were checkered black and white as well as the abundance of balloons around the stage, which made it a sight to see.

“Follow me, gentlemen,” their hostess said to them as she led them to their seats right below the stage in the first row. The sounds of Ol’ Blue Eyes, also known as Frank Sinatra, serenaded the ball.

“What you know about Ol’ Blue Eyes,” Baron asked, being a fan of a wide range of music. A’shai chuckled and nodded his head to the sounds of “My Way.” Baron took a glance around the room and although the men had masks on, he was able to recognize a lot of his business partners and associates and even some celebrities. Baron looked across the room and began to give A’shai some game.

“See that cat right there,” Baron said as he discreetly nodded his head in the direction of the man he saw. A’shai nodded his head as he followed Baron’s eyes.

“That’s the mayor of New York City,” Baron said and then looked to the other side of the room. “And over there . . . that’s one of the biggest hip-hop moguls in the world.” A’shai looked over and couldn’t believe his eyes. The flamboyant, brown skinned rapper was dapperly dressed in an expensive suit and sat discreetly amongst his entourage.

“Damn, you ain’t bullshitting. That’s crazy,” A’shai said as he looked over noting the hip-hop mogul’s attendance. He was still noticeable even though he wore a mask.

“You’re in the big leagues now, son. All millionaires travel in the same circles. It doesn’t matter how you get it as long as you got it,” Baron said as he smiled and nodded his head at his son. Just as A’shai was about to respond, a voice on the loudspeaker sounded.

“Fifteen minutes to show time,” a female voice announced over the intercom. A man was seated about three chairs down from them, also masked.

“Hello my friend,” he said discreetly to Baron. He was accompanied by a beautiful black woman on his arm. He raised his mask to reveal himself. It was Samad.

“Hello,” Baron said to his new coke connect. Samad also nodded at A’shai, who returned the gesture. Before they could engage in any conversation, the announcer stated that the show was about to start. A skinny white man with a Zorro-type mask walked onto the stage with a microphone in his hands.

“Welcome to The Gentlemen’s Ball. Let the bidding begin!”

Liberty looked in the vanity mirror as she applied mascara to her face, preparing for the biggest night of the year. Butterflies fluttered in the pit of her stomach. Abia stood behind her with her arms crossed, watching the beauty doll herself up.

“You look gorgeous,” Abia complimented as she placed her hands on Liberty’s shoulders.

“Thank you,” Liberty answered. She had heard about this ball for so long and wondered what to expect when she went out to the showroom. She could hear the chatter from the men and the soft music playing and it only added to her nervousness. Liberty’s hand began to tremble as she applied the eyeliner to her lids.

“Don’t be afraid. You are going to do great,” Abia said as she took notice of the young damsel-in-distress. “It’s just like any other trick, but it’s for a lot more money,” Abia said as she thought about the high ticket price that Liberty would demand. Hands down, she was the most stunning woman in the building and Abia understood that. Abia already knew whom she would get the attention of and that was Samad Sadat, one of the biggest cocaine distributors in the country. Samad always purchased the belle of the ball each year, and she knew this year he would be amazed. Inside Abia’s head, she knew that if everything went as planned Samad would buy Liberty, not only for the night. . . .

Since the ball was held in a hotel, it acted as a gigantic brothel for the night and soon the rooms would be filled with men. Some left wives at home, some simply needed a dinner companion, others were looking for long term affairs, but they were all there seeking one of Abia’s girls. That night they would engage in various sexual acts and all types of fetishes. Abia already began to think about how she would make $1 million in one single night. She closed her eyes and smiled and prepared for the biggest trick of the year.

The hostesses assigned each man a bidding fan as they circulated throughout the room. A’shai passed and just decided to watch. Little did he know that he was about to witness high-priced prostitution at its finest. The show began and a slim Asian woman walked down the runway with seductive lingerie that was see-through, immediately getting oohs and ahhs. The bidding started and people began to discreetly raise their fans in an attempt to purchase the girl for the night. The bidder stood at the end of the stage with a microphone in his hand.

Baron had already planned to buy his son a girl for the night and looked over at A’shai and asked him, “You want her?” as the girl walked out and stood on stage. A’shai couldn’t believe what he was witnessing. He quickly turned down the offer . . . but that would soon change when he saw the only girl that would ever hold his heart.

Liberty watched as the girls went in and out of the dressing room, and Abia monitored them like a hawk. Abia made sure that their stomachs were sucked in as tightly as they could go. She had far exceeded her expectations and nearly banked $1.5 million. Her operation was flawless and had a level of discretion that men in high places respected. Their purchases of the girls’ services would be deducted on their annual taxes as a charity donation, making their actions that night easier to justify. There were no strings attached for the men unless they wanted there to be; it was a politician’s dream.

It was time for Liberty to go onto the stage. She took a deep breath and with a small nudge from Abia she walked out with all eyes on her. She wore a silk La Perla robe that hugged her enticing frame and plump assets. Her perky breasts sat up and her long nipples seemed to protrude through the silk’s fabric. There wasn’t a soft dick in the house. Liberty was the last girl to hit the stage, and Abia knew that she had saved the best for last. Liberty saw all the masked men in the audience, which caught her off guard as she walked down the runway. The bright lights shined down on her face and every set of eyes looked in her direction.

“Let the bidding begin!” The man on stage said. That’s when the place erupted. Everyone wanted a piece of the African-born beauty with the body of a model and ass of a horse.

A’shai’s heart dropped when he saw Liberty. He was speechless and felt a lump form in his throat. As she walked down the runway with black circles around her eyes, she had the stare of a girl with no soul. It pained A’shai to see the men yelling and whistling at her like she was some sort of meat and they were starving lions. She looked older but hers was a face he would never forget . . . he was looking at his girl. He almost jumped onto the stage to snatch her off, but he restrained himself while remaining seated. He quickly leaned over to his father and whispered, “I want her,” trying to get his love so that he could save her. A’shai watched intensely as his heart beat rapidly, and he stared at Liberty, hoping she would look his way but she never did. The price got to $50,000, and Baron and Samad were the only ones left in the bidding war.

“We have to get her, pops,” A’shai urged as they bid against each other. Samad refused to lose the woman that he came for. He smiled at Baron in between bids, loving the competition. A’shai waited on pins and needles as the two continued to bid. The bidding kept getting higher and higher and everyone in the room began to get excited at the two men bidding on the belle. They were on their feet, watching the two men go back and forth. Neither of them were budging or batting an eye and the bid got up to $125,000.

In the beginning, Samad enjoyed the friendly competition, but when he saw that Baron wasn’t budging he began to grow impatient. He was tired of the games and stood up and yelled, “A half a million!!!” as he looked over at Baron and winked. The crowd erupted and began to clap at the unprecedented bid. The place was on fire. Baron shook his head. He wasn’t prepared to pay that much for one girl for one night.

“We can’t take her home like some of these men. This is only for one night, and it’s not worth it,” Baron said explaining why he decided to concede.

“Pops, you have to get her,” A’shai said as he began to worry. Baron conceded, and the announcer closed out the bid.

“Going once . . . going twice . . . sold to number 23! That was amazing! Give both of these gentlemen a hand. This has broken the record for the highest bid ever. Give them a round of applause,” he said just before the two gentlemen got a standing ovation. While everyone was laughing and clapping, A’shai clenched his teeth and fought back tears. He began to put together a plan in his mind to get his girl. He wasn’t about to let her slip away again.

TWELVE

LIBERTY HAD NEVER BEEN SO NERVOUS IN
her life. She had a $500,000 price tag on her head and even she knew that she wasn’t worth that much.
How am I supposed to live up to that price? What does he expect of me?
she thought as butterflies danced in her stomach and she wrung out her fingers tightly while pacing back and forth in Samad’s great room. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply as she tried to calm her nerves.
I know how to satisfy a man . . . he’s just like the rest of them. I can do this. Stop tripping Liberty,
she told herself. She was trying to put Samad on the same scale as all of her previous clientele, but it was obvious that he was in a league of his own. She had messed with many men before, but Samad’s wealth ran deep. As Liberty walked around the room looking at all of the antique furniture and expensive artwork she knew that Samad’s money was old. He wasn’t new to this. There was nothing gaudy or flashy about the way that he lived, but everything about the remarkable property indicated that he was royalty. It was quite intimidating. She heard the doors clang open and watched as Samad entered the room. He was far from handsome . . . in fact his looks were quite unattractive. His lean figure was too slender for her tastes and his large nose took up too much space on his small face. He turned her off, and as he approached Liberty she tried to erase the look of contempt that crossed her face.

“Welcome to my home . . . your home,” Samad stated. “You’re a very beautiful girl, Liberty.”

Liberty lowered her eyes to the floor to avoid staring at his face. “Thank you.

“Umm . . . my things. All of my clothes, my jewelry, and my car are back at the mansion. When can you take me to go get them?” she asked.

Samad put a finger beneath her chin so that she would look him in the eyes. He turned her face to the left and then the right as if he were inspecting her. “You won’t need those things here,” Samad replied. “You will have an entire wardrobe fitted personally for you and you will have a personal driver to take you wherever you would like to go. Someone as special as you deserves to be catered to.”