Hidden Witness 3: Tony's Story: A Second Chance Mafia Romance (Tony & Nadine) (Hidden Witness Series Book 3)

by Posey Parks

  HIDDEN WITNESS 3: TONY’S STORY

  POSEY PARKS

  Licenses Statement

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please visit your favorite ebook retailer to purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  COPYRIGHT

  Copyright © 2018 by Posey Parks

  Published by Posey Parks Publishing

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  ACKNOWLEDGLEMENT

  My readers are incredible! Thank you so much for reading my books, all the wonderful insight y’all give about the characters, and Team Posey group participation.

  Special thanks to: Kimberly Williams, Savonya Lawson, Cammie Joe, Brenda Frazier Walton, Yvonne Moore, Elizabeth Rogers, Cristene Mankasingh, Tameka Brown, and Millie Carter.

  Tony’s book is one of a kind. This book was written just for my Loyal readers.

  And also, thanks to everyone who writes a review.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  TABLE OF CONTENTS CON'T

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY- TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  CHAPTER FORTY

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  TABLE OF CONTENTS CON'T

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

  HIDDEN WITNESS 4: DOMINIC’S STORY

  CHAPTER ONE

  TONY

  I can’t believe after fourteen years I can be me again, Anthony Carlos Magarelli. No more Tony DeRosa. I lost the only woman I have ever loved, Nadine Skye Barlow.

  The blood shed I have seen throughout my life would astonish most but not me. It is second nature. I was one of two hit men for my family, the Magarelli’s.

  I am the oldest of my siblings. Federico Kirkland Magarelli is four years younger than me and Cristina Aria Magarelli’s is the baby. She is six years younger.

  Growing up a Magarelli we had anything we desired. The Magarelli’s is the mafia. Our family runs New Jersey. My father, Anthony Carlos Magarelli commanded respect when he walked through the streets of New Jersey. He was the hit man for our family.

  I remember my father would often take me to a little deli our family frequented.

  My father rested his hand on my shoulder as we approached the deli counter.

  “Tony! It’s good to see you!” the owner Larry gleamed.

  Everyone called my father Tony and called me little Tony.

  “Larry, good to see you too.”

  Larry glanced over the deli showcase. “Little Tony, you’re growing like a weed.”

  I smiled.

  “What can I get for you, Tone?”

  “Two pastrami sandwiches on rye, a Yoo-hoo for little Tone, and a coke for me.”

  “Coming right up. I’ll bring out your order soon.”

  “Thanks,” my dad said.

  My father ushered me toward a table in the back of the establishment. My father sat across from me facing the front door of the tiny shop. “Anthony, you understand what I do for this family right?”

  “Yes, Pops.”

  “Explain it in a way only you and I know what we are talking about.”

  I glanced down at the table pondering on what to say.

  My blue eyes glanced up at his. “If there is a problem, you make it disappear.”

  He slapped my cheek twice smiling, “That’s my boy.”

  Larry approached placing our meals before us.

  “Thanks, Larry.”

  “No problem, Tone.”

  “Hey Larry, my boy will grow up to be just like his old man.” He smiled wide.

  “Little Tony, you have tough shoes to fill. But you will be great!”

  “Thanks.” My pudgy cheeks widened.

  Larry stepped away.

  I sipped my Yoo-hoo.

  My father took a large bite of his sandwich. “Tony, lets get down to business. I taught you how to shoot at eight and sharp shoot at ten. What is your favorite weapon and why?”

  “A Glock. The grip is comfortable. I can handle the kick back better. I hate the feel of the revolver.”

  “Good.” He glanced around the deli. There were only two other customers sitting in the deli near the front door.

  “You attach a muzzle onto the Glock and it sounds like a whisper in the dark,” he whispered, gestured with his hands.

  “It’s time you accompany me on a few jobs. This will put me at ease when you take over at eighteen. Listen, no one can ever know what we do.” He placed his finger up to his pink lips.

  My father ran his fingers through his shoulder length black hair. “Tony, it’s time to get in shape. Less eating and more exercise. Your stomach is too big. You need to get in shape.”

  “I understand, Pops.”

  My father sat back. His brown leather jacket dropped open revealing his two holstered Glocks. “Don’t worry, we will work on your weight together. In this business you have to move quick. Capisce?”

  “Capisce.” I smiled.

  My father taught all his children how to shoot a weapon. However, I was trained to become the hit man for the Magarelli family.

  After my father passed at age thirty-three, my Uncle Mick stepped in and handled hits until I turned sixteen. He needed to return his focus to the waste management and construction business.

  Gunfire overcame a restaurant my father frequented. The men my uncles tortured after that disaster claimed they were after little Johnny who stole from them.

  Johnny wasn’t a part of our family. Johnny was part of the Esposito family. He frequented the restaurant. Johnny was a young hot head who was always getti
ng into shit. My father was in the wrong place at the wrong time. When you take a hit out on a person; you fuckin better have a plan! I always perform clean hits. To tell my uncles it was a mistake you killed their brother wasn’t going to cut it.

  Those fucking bastards took out the entire restaurant store front. They killed Johnny, my father, and innocent women and children. There’s no reason to kill innocent people. My uncles killed those pieces of shit, Marty and Anton Rossi. They were never seen nor heard from again.

  They are sleeping with the fishes or buried under one of the newer developments in downtown Newark. My uncles would never tell me how they were dealt with. They said, “Don’t worry about it. Your father would be proud.”

  Lucas Esposito informed my grandfather he was trying to get a handle on his nephew. Lucas warned Johnny if he didn’t get in line he would take him out himself. Johnny’s father Teddy also warned his son, but it was no use.

  Each family is controlled by a boss. Our family has always controlled New Jersey. Each of the four families, the Esposito’s, Pitucco’s, Romano’s, and the Bertozzi’s answer to the boss of the Magarelli’s.

  My grandfather was the mob boss over our family for many years. Uncle Sergio became the boss at thirty. My grandfather’s friends held control over their families and often spoke to my him about business dealing. Uncle Sergio held full control of our family at thirty-two-years old.

  Uncle Mick informed me how the conversation went down between my grandfather Sergio Salvatore Magarelli Sr. and the head of the Esposito family, Lucas Esposito.

  Lucas stepped into the spacious cherry wood library. Mick and Sergio Jr. stood near the door.

  “Mick, Sergio, good to see you both.” He embraced and kissed them on each cheek.

  “I’m sorry for the loss of your brother.”

  “Thank you, Lucas,” said Mick, then Sergio Jr.

  Lucas walked over to Salvatore embracing him, kissing each of his cheeks. “It is good to see you, old friend. I am deeply saddened for the loss of your son.”

  My grandfather’s friends often call him by his middle name, Salvatore or Sal for short.

  “Have a seat. I will fix us a couple of drinks.”

  “Pops, allow me.” Mick rose to his feet approaching the bar.

  “Thank you, son.” Sal sat across from Lucas in a black leather chair.

  Mick placed two glasses of expensive whiskey in short crystal glasses on a small wooden table before Sal and Lucas.

  Mick returned to his seat, placing one of the remaining two glasses of whiskey in Sergio’s hand.

  Sal ran his hands along his silk black suit slacks. “What the fuck happened!?!”

  Lucas leaned forward raising his glass to his lips, gulping half of the harsh contents. He glared at the whiskey in the glass a moment. “My plan was set. I was taking out Johnny that night. The Rossi brothers beat me to it.”

  Sal sipped the whiskey slow. “I know. You informed me of the plan. Thank you for being a loyal friend and a strong boss. It’s difficult taking out your own flesh and blood.”

  Lucas exhaled, running his fingers through his salt and pepper hair. “Yeah, well I wish I could have handled it so your son and innocent women and children didn’t have to die for my nephew’s stupidity!”

  “Lucas, at least we buried the pieces of shit who performed the careless hit. Be sure to offer Teddy the Magarelli’s condolences.”

  “Will do.”

  ∞

  My mother Gena loved my father Anthony Sr. with every fiber of her being. When he died, my mother was never the same.

  My grandfather being the elder of the family decides who leaves the mob or not. He allowed his daughter Catriona to leave years ago at the request of her soon to be husband. He understood when my mother said she was moving to Colorado. She wanted to get away. New Jersey wasn’t the same without my father, she said. My mother, brother, and sister moved away when I was eighteen. I stayed behind living in our family mansion.

  I always dreamed of living in sunny California. I am tired of the fucking snow. Whatever I do next in my life will be my decision.

  CHAPTER TWO

  TONY

  Let me back up. By the age of sixteen, several weapons became my favorite for different reasons. The Glock is still my favorite. The Remington defense sniper rifle is great for taking out a man of power from a distance. For those times I need to slit someone’s throat a G10 tactical knife comes in handy.

  Uncle Sergio doesn’t take disrespect lightly. Giovanni Luchetti and I had a lot of hits to perform. When discussing jobs, we sometimes met in Sergio’s home office or in the back room at Connuchis bar.

  Giovanni was a common name Italian name. There were two in our close-knit group. Uncle Sergio has a good friend by the name of Giovanni Cortesi. In meetings he called my friend Giovanni, Gio.

  Giovanni and I became best friends fast. My father was right, I had to be in shape in this line of work. Lifting two hundred-pound men can be tough alone. One of my favorite hits was out to sea. A rich business man, Herman Levowits, loved to blow into town and play around with two escorts at a time in his suite at an exclusive hotel in Atlantic City. Three times he took things too far with the girls. Two of the women he almost strangled to death. Uncle Sergio warned him if it happened again he would be no more.

  The last time he was in Atlantic city, Herman requested one woman instead of his typical two. Herman was a big guy and could easily over power a woman. There was supposed to be a guy outside his door in case things got out of hand. However, Theo pulled Herman’s detail to handle another prominent guest across town. Out of all the guys to pull off of a detail, he shouldn’t have been removed. I don’t care how close our man was to the other guest.

  Herman strangled Penny to death. He fled the scene hopping on his yacht and sailing out over the Atlantic. Theo called early in the morning, jarring me from my sleep, informing me of what went down.

  I phoned Gio. “Hey, we need to move now!”

  “I’ll be ready.”

  We drove a speed boat at top speed toward Herman’s yacht. Gawking through a pair of binoculars, Gio waved his hand low in my direction. “I see his boat. Tone, kill the engine.”

  We coasted toward his cream yacht. One after the other Gio and I boarded the Yacht. I pointed two fingers toward the other end of the yacht. Gio pulled the ski mask over his face, easing toward the other end of the yacht. Pulling my black ski mask over my face, I walked into the stateroom. The chef placed a plate on the table. I approached from behind, wrapping my arm around his neck, pulling tighter and tighter until he fell asleep. Dragging his body across the room, I placed him in a closet.

  “Is my fucking breakfast ready?!” Herman yelled, walking into the stateroom wearing an island print silk robe. His eyes widened and face turned white as a ghost the moment he stared into my cold blue eyes.

  Stance wide, I held my muzzled Glock in my black-gloved hands toward Herman. “Yeah, your food is ready. You, fat fuck!”

  “You come to this town, kill a woman, then leave. You fucked with the wrong family!”

  My hand gripped the back of his meaty neck. “I’m going to enjoy gutting you like the pig you are. You fucking coward. You pray on helpless women. Who knows how many women have died by your hands. It ends now.”

  I stepped back.

  “I promise, I didn’t mean to kill her. It was an accident!”

  Gio kneed him in his back. Herman winced. His hand flew gripping the sore spot in his back. “Accident! It was no accident. You strangled the previous two women. They were distraught after that shit! Then you have the fucking nerve to beg Theo to let you fuck another broad!” Gio yelled, stepping to my side.

  His chest heaved in and out, eyes widened in fury. “He will be dealt with next. You should have never been allowed back in this town!” Gio spit.

  Retrieving my knife, I pushed the blade, twisting it into Herman’s gut.

  “Help! Help!” Herman screamed.

  Gio
stepped back behind him aiming his Glock at Herman’s calf. The bullet released from the barrel slamming into his leg.

  “Ah! Ah!” Face scrunched up, screaming like a fucking bitch.

  I raised my Glock, squaring up his forehead. Gio stepped aside.

  “You never fuck over the Magarelli’s. Nessuna pieta!” I squeezed the trigger, releasing two bullets into Herman’s skull.

  Gio and I wrapped Herman and the carpet he laid on in plastic. We threw his body on the speed boat, fleeing the yacht.

  We dumped Herman’s body at Draper Look Out. This was one place of many we’ve discarded bodies.

  ~

  High school was easy. Being a big guy, the football coaches recruited me in ninth grade. I crushed guys on the field. I often zoned out on the field. Tackling guys and sacking the quarterback was a way for me to release the anger deep within. Losing my father at a young age destroyed a part of me. I was angry, rude, and crass. Hell, I was a dick. I wish I could have killed the asshole who took my father from my mother, me, my brother and my sister. My family will never be the same.

  Being a Magarelli, means there’s no time to stay in your feelings.

  My uncles became my fathers. Uncle Mick introduced me to pussy at fifteen. I remember like it was yesterday. The huge dark red house sat perched on a hill at the end of the block in East Orange, NJ.

  Stepping inside the foyer, my Uncle Mick slammed his heavy hand on my shoulder. “So how many women do you think you can handle?”

  My eyes roamed the living room to my right, then the sitting room to my left. Tall beautiful women sashayed throughout. Two women sat on a sofa across from each other staring at me. One’s skin was the color of honey and orange blended. Fucking beautiful. Her hair grazed her ass. The other was dark chocolate. Her hair was pulled up in a long black ponytail. I licked my lips, grabbing my crotch to ease my twitching cock.

  A short, slender woman with crinkly long blonde-hair, milky creamy skin, and blue eyes walked over. “See anything you like?” she stood with her fist resting on her hip, dressed in only a pink lace bra panty set and black high heels.