"Don't worry! You'll be fine soon, I'm almost there!" Luca said.
"What?"
Leon was starting to doubt Luca's professionalism.
He hadn't even said a word about his situation yet, and the other guy had already hung up, acting like everything was "under control."
The bag of white powder was wrapped in transparent plastic, without any attempt to hide it.
The only thing missing was "This is a bag of coke" written on the packaging with a black marker.
Tenpenny sneered as he weighed it in his hand. "Shxt, do stars always have such big appetites? This bag of coke weighs at least ten pounds."
Knowing what was inside without even testing it—it was obvious this was all a setup.
Leon couldn't be bothered to say another word, but Taylor was desperately trying to salvage the situation.
"I think this must be a misunderstanding. This can't be Leon's stuff!" Taylor took off her sunglasses, revealing her identity. "Officer, you can't just take him away like this!"
The officers were stunned for a moment by the beauty of the tall woman in front of them, then quickly reacted and exclaimed:
"WTF, isn't that Taylor Swift?"
"My daughter's room is full of her posters; I can't be mistaken!"
"Shut up!" Tenpenny shouted, and his subordinates lowered their heads, daring not to say more.
He walked up to Taylor and said in a deep voice, "We won't make a mistake. The NYPD won't wrongly arrest a good person, nor will we let a bad person go!"
"But..."
Taylor wanted to argue, but Tenpenny interrupted her directly: "Save it, even if you are Taylor Swift~"
"Don't worry, I'll be fine soon, Taylor." Leon patted Taylor on the shoulder, signaling her to rest assured.
A ten-pound bag of coke was worth a million dollars; if it were in a border city down south, it would only be worth 400k.
This sounded like a huge sum, but for a singer of Leon's level, it was nothing.
Otherwise, even Robinson, the "Father of Crack," wouldn't have chosen to wash his hands completely after tasting the sweetness of the entertainment industry.
A hearing judge would have to be out of their mind to think a popular singer with no record of drug use would rely on this to make money.
Click—
Leon wanted to say something more to Taylor, but cold handcuffs were slapped onto his wrists.
"Nervous about going to the station?" Tenpenny teased. "Don't piss your pants~ After all, everyone calls you 'Street Jesus,' a big shot on the streets~"
His words were dripping with sarcasm.
As the police car sped away, Taylor shouted at the taillights: "I'll hire the best lawyer for you!"
"No need, don't give the damn media a chance to hype this up! My lawyer is already on the way." Leon shouted back out the window.
"Shut up!" Tenpenny ordered.
Arriving at the NYPD station, Leon was first thrown into a holding cell.
During this time, he could vaguely see Tenpenny constantly on the phone with someone.
After being left hanging for about 20 minutes, two officers took Leon into the interrogation room.
The incandescent light was as glaring as a scalpel.
Leon leaned back in the chair, his fingers tapping the edge of the metal chair, the rhythm unhurried.
He didn't look panicked at all.
At this moment, Tenpenny walked into the interrogation room, staring at the document in his hand. "Leon, 21 years old, singer... At 11:01 PM, a bag of... hmm, [high-purity powder] was found under the chassis of the Porsche 997 he was driving. Anything to say?"
Leon raised his eyebrows and looked up slowly. "That stuff isn't mine."
"Of course you can say that. And then we'll pretend to believe it? And then send you a latte to wish you innocence?" Tenpenny leaned against the wall, his tone full of mockery.
"No latte needed." Leon shook his head. "Americano is fine. High-sugar coffee and donuts make every bastard here look as fat as you."
Tenpenny rolled his eyes and said with a smile: "You won't be arrogant for long, superstar. The evidence is conclusive~ That bag weighed a full 11 pounds. According to New York state law, you will be charged with first-degree possession of a controlled substance, with a minimum sentence of 15 years!"
This mix of coaxing and threatening didn't scare Leon at all.
Leaving aside that there were no fingerprints of his on the bag, he also had no record of drug use and lacked criminal motivation.
The only trouble was that his wallet might suffer; the bail for 11 pounds of coke alone would be a considerable sum.
And the lengthy court proceedings afterward would also greatly drag down his career.
Except for Diddy or JAY-Z, Leon really couldn't think of anyone else who would do this.
11 pounds of coke, the weight was just right.
Not only did it violate New York state law, but it also just touched the ceiling for federal drug possession charges.
Tenpenny signaled a junior officer to hand over a cup of coffee, then knocked on the table and lowered his voice. "Do you plan to remain silent forever?"
Just then, the door to the interrogation room was pushed open.
A young man in a decent suit walked in quickly carrying a briefcase.
Speaking loudly as he walked: "Gentlemen, sorry I'm late~ No, accurately speaking, my client arrived too early. In my impression, the NYPD has never had such high arrest efficiency~ Traffic jams are New York's cultural heritage to the world."
Saying that, he slapped his lawyer ID on the table: "Luca Vincent. You may have seen me on TV, [Fighting for more for you on the edge of the law], that's right, I'm that guy~"
Words like "edge of the law" were a bit harsh. Leon reminded him: "Keep a low profile."
"Low profile? Low profile is for those who want to plead guilty. I'm here to pick you up, not to read a letter of repentance."
The two chatted and laughed, showing no sign of being in prison.
Tenpenny rolled his eyes: "Great, another lawyer full of BS."
Luca stopped smiling, pulled out a chair, and sat down dashingly: "I'm just good at pulling derailed trains back on track."
He leaned closer and lowered his voice. "Speaking of which, such an obvious frame-up, and you dare waste my client's time?"
"This isn't a frame-up; we found it in his back seat..."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know." Luca interrupted him, speaking as fast as a machine gun: "White powder found in the back seat, but where are the witnesses? Surveillance? Fingerprints?"
"Listen, you can't treat someone as a pedophile just because there are children's clothes in their car."
"Before the trace identification results come out, you must treat my client properly!"
Tenpenny's mouth twitched. He wanted to say something but held it back.
"Stop with the lip service; I don't want to waste time here," Leon said.
"The hearing will start soon." Luca glanced at his watch and said confidently.
Tenpenny didn't expect to convict Leon just based on a bag of coke appearing out of thin air.
But according to Diddy's instructions, he must make him suffer more in the police station.
He sipped his coffee leisurely and mocked: "Do you know what time it is, Mr. Luca? Your cash cow will stay with me for at least 24 hours. Before he confesses everything, I won't let him rest..."
"According to federal law, my client has the right not to accept any form of questioning before the first hearing~" Luca looked relaxed. "Of course, you won't have the chance to question him either; we'll be leaving here soon."
Tenpenny looked fierce. With Chief McMahon backing him, he wasn't afraid of legal risks.
Just as he was about to drive Luca away and put some pressure on Leon, the court hearing notice arrived.
The speed was staggering.
Seeing Tenpenny's shocked expression, Luca mocked: "My principle is not to let my client waste a single second outside of procedure~ You should learn to respect lawyers; you will definitely need one in the future."
New York, Washington, and other cities are among the few areas in the US with duty judges.
There is only one reason why the inefficient American administrative system can operate 24 hours a day—money.
No city in the world has as many celebrities and wealthy merchants as New York.
When these rich and powerful people are in prison, they won't want to waste a second in the police station.
A large part of the reason for the existence of the night court is to serve the celebrities and wealthy merchants of New York.
The hearing process went smoothly.
Leon didn't say anything throughout the whole process, watching Luca chatting and laughing with the judge.
The bright smile on his face looked as if he had agreed with the judge on which midnight club to go to tomorrow night.
Finally, the judge based his decision on Leon's lack of any criminal record, no history of drug use, and insufficient chain of evidence and motivation.
Announced bail.
The bail was only one million dollars, much less than Leon expected.
The whole process was so smooth thanks to the "PY transaction" (backroom dealing) between Luca and the court.
For a lawyer to maintain such a high win rate and sentence reduction rate, relying solely on a mouth like in American TV shows is impossible.
Not only the judge, but when the legal fees are attractive enough, these high-level shysters will also try to corrupt the jury.
Leon retrieved his personal belongings and found dozens of messages on his phone.
Most of them were from Taylor.
Taylor: Are you okay now?
Taylor: Can you see my messages?
Taylor: Damn, I'm going crazy~ Should I tell your friends about this and let everyone think of a way together?
Leon tapped the screen, replied "I'm free," put on his sunglasses, and hurriedly left the court.
At 4:30 AM, the court entrance was already crowded with reporters.
No need to think much; this was information released by Diddy.
The dawn in New York in June was just breaking, and the camera flashes made it as bright as day.
"Mr. Leon! Congratulations on temporarily escaping legal sanctions!"
"You were with Miss Taylor when you were arrested yesterday. Were you using contraband for fun together?"
"Are the rumors true that you are dealing drugs with Compton's street godfather Robinson?"
Facing these overwhelming sharp questions, Leon rarely didn't retort, remaining silent throughout.
Escorted by Bonnie, Jorge, and others, he broke out of the reporters' encirclement and returned to his home in Tribeca.
Lying in bed, he repeatedly deconstructed the whole process in his mind.
The frame-up had something to do with Diddy; this was already certain.
But who executed this plan?
Leon's paranoia kicked in.
His biggest worry was whether there was a mole around him.
Currently, if there was a problem with the people around him, the most likely suspects were Jorge and the group of Mexicans.
Under the temptation of money, it wouldn't be surprising for them to do anything.
But the problem was that the car had been within monitoring range except when he was driving it. Bonnie checked all recent surveillance and found no sign of Jorge or his group approaching the car.
The answer might be far simpler than he imagined—Diddy hired car thieves.
Car theft in the US ranks first in the world, with over 1 million cars stolen annually.
The intense competition in the industry has created the superb skills of car thieves.
They can open any car door within two minutes; given enough time, even the presidential limousine might not be a problem.
During Leon's date with Taylor, the car was parked randomly on the roadside. Four hours was more than enough for them to commit the crime.
Just as he felt a bit sleepy, his phone rang.
"Damn..." Leon slapped his forehead and picked up the phone.
Seeing the caller's name, his body shook immediately.
Senator Charlie!
"Are you okay, Leon?"
"Thanks for your concern, Senator. I think everything is fine for now."
"Listen, I already know about your case. This is completely a planned frame-up..." Charlie said. "Once the trace identification results come out, I'll have the prosecution drop all charges against you. You won't even need to attend the investigative hearing."
"I don't know how to thank you..." Leon breathed a sigh of relief.
If he went through the full procedure, even if the final result was acquittal, the lengthy court proceedings would be headache enough.
But this kind of backroom deal came with a price, and Leon knew this very well.
Soon, Charlie made his intention clear. "Don't forget what you promised Henry. That silly boy's biggest dream is to enter the entertainment industry... He takes you as a role model and thinks about this every day."
"I understand what you mean, Mr. Charlie." Mentioning this neurotic second-generation rich kid, Leon not only showed no impatience but smiled from ear to ear.
"Very good. I like smart guys. Most people in the entertainment industry are brainless fools~" Charlie said in a deep voice: "Although Henry is a silly boy, our whole family loves him very much."
"Bunch of bastards..." After dropping the phone, Leon fell onto the pillow.
He barely slept, getting up after only three hours of light rest.
In the past, he might have wanted to use the street hot topic to milk a few more waves of traffic.
After Diddy's revenge crossed the line, he didn't want to wait a moment longer.
He must pay the price immediately!
At nine in the morning, Leon arrived at Apocalypse Music and asked Bonnie to pour him a cup of coffee as usual.
Newspapers, TV, the internet...
All information channels were filled with news of Leon's arrest.
Two photos were used on a large scale.
One was the scene of Leon hugging Robinson at the premiere of Straight Outta Compton.
Media used eye-catching headlines, such as "Street Jesus and Father of Crack Robinson's Secret Friendship, Criminal Hiding in the Entertainment Industry."
The other photo was of Leon and Taylor walking out of the coffee shop closely together.
Media used this photo as evidence of guilt, revealing the real secret behind the reduced interaction between Leon and Robbie.
Previous guesses about Beyoncé and Ariana were all wrong. The one who really intervened in this relationship was none other than Robbie's best friend, Taylor.
The entire entertainment industry went crazy because of these two photos.
Taylor's reputation was severely damaged, labeled as "backstabbing best friend" and "mistress."
Leon was nailed to the cross.
Negative traffic was maxed out, reaching the peak since his debut.
Except for Michael Jackson, who was framed for the scandal back then, few artists have suffered such a level of attack from the media.
While the media verbally attacked, Diddy called on people in the entertainment industry to stand up and boycott Leon, "Draw a clear line with this dirty and fallen criminal!"
"It looks like our situation is very bad," Bonnie whispered.
"Someone will soon draw all these damn media away..." Leon sneered: "Someone will foot the bill."
Soon another trouble came to the door. An eye-catching red Ferrari 430 drifted to a stop in the parking lot downstairs.
Henry walked out of the car, shaking his head.
This annoying rich kid was actually invited by Leon himself; he had called him half an hour ago.
As soon as Henry entered the door, he shouted loudly: "Are you okay, Bro? Fxxk those damn idiots at the NYPD! Those bastards who arrested you will soon be joining the line for unemployment benefits!"
Leon changed his usual perfunctory attitude and greeted Henry enthusiastically to sit down: "Thanks to your father's intervention, I avoided a lot of trouble."
"Hehe, just a trivial matter." Henry flipped his long hair. "So... when are you going to repay my father's kindness?"
"Now! Right now!" Leon was emotional, shaking the other's arm. "I will put all my resources into you, including those works I have written but haven't recorded yet; they will be yours soon!"
"Are... are you telling the truth?" Henry's eyes widened, his eyeballs about to pop out.
"Of course! I will definitely make you an instant hit!"
"Don't lie to me... You know my father has the ability to solve your troubles, and also has the ability..."
Before the other party finished, Leon interrupted him and continued: "Every letter I say is true. I will soon bring you truly into this circle!"
"Rihanna, Lil Wayne, Nicki Minaj... soon you will be mingling with them~"
Hearing this, Henry was ecstatic to the point of facial distortion.
He opened his mouth and giggled foolishly for a full two minutes before leaving contentedly.
Just after sending this rich kid away, Leon immediately took out his phone.
Sliding through the contacts, he stopped at P. Diddy's name.
The phone rang for a full thirty seconds before connecting.
"Diddy, I want to talk to you."
Talk? What does that mean?
On the other end of the phone, Diddy subconsciously thought Leon wanted to start a big fight, bringing a bunch of Crips and Mexicans to have a shootout with him.
"I have nothing to talk to you about..." Although he tried hard to appear calm, his intermittent speech betrayed Diddy's nervousness.
"No, you don't have to be nervous, man. Our business is completely over."
"What did you say, Bro?" Diddy's volume rose an octave, as shocked as if he had received a terrorist attack warning.
"You heard right. I've figured it out, man..." Leon said. "The whole thing was a misunderstanding from the beginning. We can't let it go on."
Diddy muttered skeptically: "I'm really happy you think so, Bro."
"I want to talk to you face to face." Leon continued to guide him: "I won't bring any weapons or bodyguards. I just want to open my heart and talk to you, on your turf."
Hearing this, Diddy gradually let down his guard.
His initially nervous voice immediately became smug.
Street Jesus?
Whether it was "West Coast Thug" Tupac or NAS nicknamed "God's Son," those who tried to challenge the status of P. Diddy and JAY-Z all failed.
The former was shot dead on the street.
The latter couldn't even pay taxes now and was entangled with the IRS.
According to Diddy's thinking, could anything go wrong if he chose the location himself?
Just in his Long Island mansion, there were more than forty bodyguards. The whole house was like a military camp.
Thinking of this, he was completely willing to believe that Leon chose to surrender in this war.
"I fully feel your sincerity, Bro. Tomorrow I will host a grand White Party to celebrate this. Let us unite under the witness of friends."
"That's great." The smile on the corner of Leon's mouth looked even happier than Diddy.
"Your boss JAY-Z will also be present. I hope you can clarify the renewal matter so that the feelings of Roc Nation as a family will last forever..."
"Of course, we will settle everything... no, clarify everything." Leon agreed without hesitation.
Diddy, who was addicted to drugs and orgies, could think of such dirty means to deal with him; there must be an expert behind him giving pointers.
That person could only be JAY-Z.
"Long live friendship." Diddy hung up the phone.
Lying on the white sofa, he put his feet on the male servant in front of him and laughed wildly.