Hidden Witness 2: A Mafia Romance

by Posey Parks

  “I’m sorry to hear that Sierra. You know what? We are going to be just fine.”

  Sierra’s eyes slowly turned to me.

  “I am so happy you are going to be my daughter.”

  “Me too, Francine.”

  “Let’s cheer up and put on our pretty faces. We need to get ready for our spectacular party.” I winked.

  I will give my father-in-law a piece of my mind.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  DILLON

  The Black Maybach Pullman came to a halt outside our grandiose banquet hall. The banquet hall has been in our family since the roaring 20’s, almost one hundred years. The brick two-story building with a basement has been remodeled every five years.

  Gliding off the soft beige leather seats, the warm humid night air engulfed me as I stood buttoning my yellow custom suit jacket. Scanning my surroundings, I noticed the valet attendants bustled through the crowded parking lot. Guests stood in line, waiting to enter the hall. I stretched my hand out for Sierra’s. Helping my beautiful black queen out of the Maybach, my eyes took in her beautiful body encased in the sheer cream backless gown. The front of the gown was embroidered. The embroidered cream flowers traveled down the sleeves, clinging to her arms. My hand rested on the small of her glimmering bronze back.

  I leaned into her ear. “Baby, you look good in everything you wear, but this dress enhances your already classy sexiness.”

  “Thank you, Dillon.” She blushed, turning to me, straightening my navy tie against the white dress shirt. I tugged at my navy cufflinks.

  Sierra puckered her crimson red lips, staring into my eyes, clenching my yellow lapels. The decorative black bun, sat perfectly on the center of her head.

  “The cameras are flashing. Everyone wants to see the governor’s son. I’m used to the media. I’ve got your back.”

  I flashed a sly grin. “Thanks, sweetheart. Now give me one of those glossy kisses for the camera.”

  She gleamed at me through her extended eyelashes. “You are such a bad boy.”

  “Baby, I just want everyone to know you belong to me.” My lips engaged hers in an intoxicating kiss. Probably too hot for TV. Swirling my fingers along her back, I pulled her closer. Sierra’s hands were planted firmly against my pecs. If it were up to me, we would run the other way. Lying in bed together or on a beach holding my woman in my arms would make me content. Sierra has that effect on me. I long for our alone time.

  “Dillon, that kiss tingled throughout my body. Later, you’ve got trouble on your hands.”

  “I’ll take your kind of trouble any time,” I winked.

  Sierra looped her arm through mine. Reporters inched closer, shoving their microphones in my face, hurling questions at me. I felt beads of sweat forming on my forehead.

  “No comment,” I stated.

  “Mr. Magarelli, why did you fake your death?” one reporter asked.

  “Why did you choose to return now?” another reporter asked before Sierra and I stepped inside the banquet hall.

  My father reported to the newspaper my cousin and I wanted a fresh start in our young lives. He went onto say he stumbled upon me by accident while on a business trip in Portland, OR.

  The spotlight landed on me and Sierra, capturing our attention. “Dillon Magarelli, it is a pleasure to have you back in New Jersey!” DJ Marty yelled.

  This morning, my lieutenant Cruise informed me of every guest who would be in attendance tonight. It’s important I know who will be at the party. I can’t afford the wrong people to attend. Our world has to remain secret even though it’s not secret. It’s hearsay. For years, it was hearsay that my father was the governor and mob boss of New Jersey. No one could prove that information to be true. If they tried, that person would be handled.

  To the world, I am known as businessman, not the Don of the Mafia. On paper, I now run all of our constructions companies, waste management company, and any other future business ventures of Magarelli Enterprises.

  The colors throughout are black and gold. The DJ booth was encompassed in black and gold striped decorations. I threw up my hand, and everyone stood to their feet cheering. Strolling down the pathway between the sea of large round tables, we detoured to a decorative table fully stocked with my favorite whiskey and expensive cigars. I grabbed a cigar off the table, lit it, then intertwined Sierra’s fingers, stepping on stage in front of the microphone. The live band patiently waited behind us to play their array of instruments.

  “Feels good to be home!” My deep voice carried around the room. “Thank you for being here tonight. I would like to introduce you all to my fiancée, Sierra Simmons!” I glanced at her slightly shocked face, kissing her temple. Clapping erupted from every table.

  “Reconnecting with family tonight is what I look forward to. Please, everyone eat, drink, and dance. Let’s have some fun!”

  Our guests stood cheering.

  Sierra and I exited the stage. The band played a ballroom ballad. Before we could reach our private table, my mother approached. She grabbed her hands, admiring the gown. “Sierra, the dress looks stunning on you!”

  “Thank you, Francine. You look absolutely gorgeous. Lavender is your color.” Sierra smiled.

  “Thank you, darling.”

  “Mom, the party is perfect. You made this party about me! The cigars and whiskey are just what a man needs.”

  Sierra shook her head from side to side. “Your mother knows how to cater to your ego.”

  We laughed.

  “Thank you, Dillon. I wanted to make it as manly as possible. That reminds me, your father and Dominic are waiting for you in the business suite.”

  “On my way.” I turned to Sierra. “Baby, I have some business to tend to. I’ll be back soon.”

  “Ok, your mom wants to introduce me to some guests anyway.”

  I kissed her lips before stepping away.

  ∞

  Walking into the business suite, I strolled over to another table filled with hors d’oeuvre’s, cigars, and liquor, I poured myself a fresh drink. I cut my eyes at Dominic, who sat on the long leather couch next to my father, smoking a cigar. He appeared deep in thought. “Dominic, how did things go at home?”

  He took a long pull on his cigar, running his free hand over his dark slicked back hair. The diamond encrusted pinky ring flickered in the recessed lighting.

  “Everything went sideways.” His hand slipped down the front of his white tuxedo. “Let’s handle business. We can talk another time about my problems.” He didn’t make eye contact with me. Sipping the harsh whiskey from the crystal glass, I sat at my brother’s side, placing my free hand on his shoulder. “Dominic, are you going to be all right?”

  His simmering green eyes met mine. “Yeah Dillon, I promise not to go too far, but I do need to fuck someone up to relieve some of my anger.”

  My hand gripped the nape of his neck, pulling him into a hug. “I’m here for you little brother.”

  “Good.”

  My father smiled as he sipped his whiskey. “I’m happy to have my family whole again,” my father stated.

  Dominic half-smiled walking over to the table, pouring himself a drink.

  “Dad, do what you do best schmooze the guests.”

  He threw the liquor to the back of his throat. “Will do.” He snickered. “Dillon, that reminds me. You will have full custody of your children before the end of the summer. Lindsay will be allowed visitation.”

  I smiled over the brim of my glass. “Good.”

  I squeezed my father’s shoulder. “Dominic and I have work to do. See you soon Dad.”

  My father nodded, placing his cigar in his mouth before leaving the room.

  I swallowed the liquor, placing the empty glass on the table.

  Dominic did the same, then followed me through a different door in the room leading into the basement.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  DILLON

  Hopper
and Boyken sat with their hands tied behind their backs. No gags required. The air smelled chemically clean, like the basement was cleaned with bleach recently. I’ve only been down here once with Uncle Geno and Uncle Mick. Uncle Geno thought this wasn’t the place for a teenage boy. Uncle Mick begged to differ. He said I needed to know what goes on here because one day I will spend time here.

  This is known as one of my family’s torture chambers. If you have wronged the Magarelli family, this is one of the places where we lay problems to rest. Moseying down the stairs toward the men, I nodded at my men Cruise, Rémy, Jasper, Romeo, and Marcelo, who wore long butcher aprons over their suits. My eyes darted to my right.

  “Tony! I didn’t know you would be here tonight.” I pulled him into a hug.

  “I thought you would be long gone by now.”

  He stepped back, popping the black lapels of his tuxedo. “I couldn’t miss your welcome home celebration.” He smiled. “I also have unfinished business that needs to be addressed here in Newark. Just so you know, I’m here whenever you need me.”

  The corners of my lips turned upward. “Thanks, Tone. Do you need assistance with the unfinished business?”

  Glancing over at the men, his eyes darted back to mine as he stepped closer. “Something I left behind has taken precedence in my life right now. I will tell you about it later.”

  “Understood.” I knew he was talking about Nadine. He only mentioned her twice in fourteen years. Tony told me she assisted with our deaths. He admitted about five years ago she was special to him and she was his only regret leaving his mafia life. I turned, walking in the direction of my inherited problems.

  Huge portable flood-lights sat at either side of the men. The heat from the lights burned their skin.

  Leaning forward, I could smell their burning flesh. “Jasper, remove the lights.”

  Without a word, the tall, stalky soldier did as ordered.

  “Fella’s, for you both to be sitting here today, you must have never heard Ernie’s story.” I removed my jacket, tie, and dress shirt, leaving on my wife beater.

  “Boss, sorry you were called down. There’s been a misunderstanding!” Hopper cried out.

  Marcelo stepped forward, removing my clothes from my arm. I removed my ring, placing it in my pants pocket.

  Ignoring his desperate cries, I glanced back at Dominic, who was ready to kick ass. His top layer of dress clothes sat across a steel table to our left. He slid his snug wifebeater out of his slacks. “You know, Dillon, I’ve never heard that story. Enlighten us,” Dominic stated, holding his fists in front of him.

  I snickered. “Sure…My father placed Ernie’s head in that very vise over there.” I pointed across the room to their right. My cold eyes burned into the men. “My aunt stabbed him in his legs repeatedly. Ernie cried out for help too, but no one gave a shit!” I roared, stalking forward.

  I beat on my chest like King Kong. “You don’t fucking steal from us!”

  “Rémy, untie Hopper. Place him in the vise,” I stated, never removing my eyes from Hopper.

  “My brother was nice enough to let you two hang yourselves. Your job entailed knocking over the cigarette trucks. Your responsibility was to bring all the product to us.”

  “Mr. Magarelli, we didn’t steal from you,” Boyken sniffled.

  I leaned against the long black rail behind me.

  “Oh, so you guys didn’t steal from us?” I turned my lips up. “Hmm, that’s odd. Dom, do you have the truck’s bill of ladings over a ten-year period?”

  “Yeah, I have them.”

  “Boss, you’ll see every piece is accounted for,” Hopper assured from across the room.

  Pushing myself forward off the rail, I retrieved a bat off the steel table. I twirled the bat in the air as I strolled toward Boyken. “Clearly, you motherfuckers have heard of technology.” I swung the bat through the air, slamming it into Boyken’s abdomen.

  “Ahhhh!!!” he wailed.

  I nodded at Dominic. He walked across the room, turning the vise, squeezing Hopper’s head, accompanied by a sinister smile.

  “I must admit, you bitches almost got away with your scheme. I know a certain hacker who looked into those bills of lading from the cigarette companies over the years, turns out someone had been stealing half the loads for years.” I kneeled down, staring into Boykens eyes. “You doctored the documents to make it appear we were getting the correct number of cigarettes. We paid you both well for your jobs. You chose to spit in our faces, take our trust for granted.” I pointed at Boyken. “You murdered yourself.” I stood, spitting in his face.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Magarelli, please don’t kill me,” Boyken cried.

  Cruise placed a long butcher apron over my head, tying it in the back.

  Raising the bat over my head, I dropped the bat down onto his head with all my might, smashing his head. Not stopping there, I beat him with the bat until he was unrecognizable. My chest heaved in and out as I stood back, flexing my muscles. I tossed the bat aside. My dark eyes narrowed as I stared at Boyken’s dead body.

  Jasper placed a long black apron over my brother’s head, tying it in back. “Looks like your time is up, bitch!” Dominic yelled.

  He turned the arm of the vise, squeezing Hoppers head tighter. He screamed like a bitch. My brother gawked as Hopper’s brains burst out of his skull.

  “Jasper, bring me the bat.”

  My brother’s ominous eyes never left Hopper’s busted head.

  Dominic stepped back retrieving the bat from Jasper’s hand. Pulling the bat into the air, he slammed it down on Hoppers legs over and over again. Dominic’s hair shook loose from its perfect slicked back position. It dangled in his face as he continued busting Hopper’s legs. Blood splattered everywhere. “No one fucks with the Magarelli’s, you fucking maggots!” he growled.

  Dropping the bat to the floor, his chest rose and fell. “It’s time to fucking party!” Dominic yelled. A devilish smile curled his lips.

  Everyone in the room broke into loud laughter.

  We met each other at the large double sink against the side wall. Of all the soaps on the market to wash the blood from our skin down the drain, we scrubbed our hands and arms with Lava bar soap. The soap I told Sierra I used to keep my hands semi-soft when we first met. The thought brought a smile to my face.

  “Dominic, tell me what the fuck is going on.” I glanced at my little brother as we continued cleaning up.

  He sighed. “Carmen told me she fucked another guy while I was away.” His sad green eyes made contact with mine.

  “Do you believe her?”

  “No. But I hate she felt that’s what she had to say to keep me out of her life. I was pissed. I punched my hand through the wall next to her head. I told her to act like she doesn’t know me when in my presence on campus.”

  We removed our aprons, placing them in the sink. I embraced my brother.

  “Sorry, Dominic.”

  “Me too.” He stepped back, squeezing his eyes with two fingers.

  “Dillon, let’s head upstairs.”

  “Yeah, ok.”

  I shrugged on my dress shirt as I turned my attention to my men in the room. “Fella’s, you know what to do. Once you have handled everything, enter the tunnel from a block over and join us upstairs.”

  “Not a problem Boss,” Rémy stated.

  I straightened my tie. “Dominic, are you ready?”

  After placing his rings back on his fingers, he combed his fingers through his hair. “Yep.”

  Tony and Dominic followed me upstairs.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  SERGIO

  Seeing my boys talking and laughing with one another warmed my heart. I returned my attention to my father.

  “Dillon is in his element, don’t you think?” my father asked.

  I knew what he was getting at. He believes he made the right decision placing my son in power. My fucking son!

&nbs
p; Flashback

  After Francine gave birth to Dillon, I began having second thoughts about my son entering this life.

  Leonard was instrumental in my mayoral campaign. I pondered his words. ‘Leave the life behind and become an upstanding citizen.’

  Once I became the Mayor of Newark, my father didn’t want to hear my suggestion about letting Mick take over. My holding an office of power gave my family more power. Needless to say, I was stuck.

  My plan was to send my sons away to college and keep them away from this life. Dillon’s death placed me in the hot seat. My father eventually ordered me to teach Dominic the business. Francine didn’t have a clue. How could I tell her I was the Mob Boss and one day our sons would become the next boss’s of the family?

  After Dillon’s funeral, I stood in our darkened bedroom, staring out of the window at nothing, deep in mourning. “Sergio,” Francine called. I heard the lamp click on.

  “Yes.”

  “Can you unzip my dress?”

  “Sure.” I walked over to my beautiful wife, unzipping her dress. My hands slipped around her naked waist. My lips fell upon her brown hair. My fingers pushed her dress down her shoulders until it hit the floor, pooling around her black stilettos.

  Turning in my arms, she ran her hands up my arms, halting at my shoulders. Her eyes playfully danced with mine. “I need to hear the truth from your lips, Sergio.”

  “Baby, when have I ever lied to you?”

  Her smile withered.

  “Are you the Mob Boss?”

  I stepped back, sitting on the edge of our bed, dropping my head in my hands. “Yes, Francine, I am.”

  My green eyes met hers. I watched as the color drained from her face.

  “Why am I the last to know?” she asked. Her half-naked frame strolled over to the window, staring into the night sky.

  I stalked toward her, pulling her tiny frame against me. My hard cock dug into her back, and my lips melted against her ear. “Baby, I knew you weren’t pleased to marry into this life,” I breathed. “I figured I’d spare you the day to day bullshit.” My hand crept under her navy bra, gripping her breast.