Mafioso

by Nisa Santiago

  The judge looked at the foreman. “Has the jury reached a verdict?”

  The jury foreman stood up and replied, “Yes, we have, Your Honor.”

  He was a round and plump man, bad pale skin with thinning hair and a wide nose. He was unattractive and looked to be a racist in Layla’s eyes. Layla could feel her heart beating so wildly it felt like African drums were inside her chest. She had never been so nervous in her life.

  “Will the defendants rise,” ordered the judge.

  Scott and Layla, along with their lawyers, stood to their feet. The room was tense and uneasy. There were so many charges against them, could they be found guilty of them all? Layla and Scott’s attention were fixed on the jurors. These men and women controlled their fate. It was a sour thing to swallow, their destiny in the hands of twelve strangers.

  Scott took a deep breath. He was ready for the outcome. Layla stood firm and on edge. How could she swallow a life sentence? She didn’t know how she would react. But this was it, and all mouths dropped to the floor when the jury foreman started to read off the verdicts.

  The judge asked him, “For defendant Layla West on attempted murder, how does the jury find?”

  The jury foreman said the words, “Not guilty, Your Honor.”

  Layla was flabbergasted and so was the entire courtroom. But she had to contain her excitement. It wasn’t over yet.

  “For defendant Layla West on conspiracy to run a criminal empire, how does the jury plead?” said the judge.

  “Not guilty, Your Honor!”

  And it read on like that for all her charges. Layla couldn’t help it. She hugged Fitzgerald so tight that she damn near squeezed the man in half. He was worth every penny. The courtroom erupted in excitement.

  The same “Not guilty” verdict was rattled off for her codefendant, Scott West. Scott and Layla were acquitted on all charges, which was virtually unheard of when the federal government builds a case against someone. U.S. Attorney Gloria Sheindlin sat there dumbfounded by the outcome. Her mouth was wide open and she was in shock. In the heat of the moment, Scott and Layla even hugged. Once again, they were free.

  Both Layla and Scott then turned to face their children with scowls on their faces. Layla glared at Lucky, and Scott glared at Bugsy. There were scores that needed to be settled, which was going to pit mother against daughter and father against son.

  The world wasn’t ready for what was to come.

  Family Feuds

  The stunning acquittals of Scott and Layla West resonate throughout the justice system, and the powerful cartels take notice.

  The Wests were untouchable and their drug empire is still intact, but family ties begin to unravel.

  New mom Lucky has a lot on her shoulders as she continues to deceive the head of the Juarez cartel. Partnering with her twin brothers, Lucky lines up the pieces on the chessboard, but she underestimates the king and queen.

  Excerpt from

  Mafioso - Part FIVE

  Getting Lucky

  Scott reached into his coat and removed a letter from the inner pocket. He handed it to Layla.

  She stared at Scott with uncertainty. “What’s this?”

  “You need to read it. It’s important. You were right.”

  A cop car flew by with its lights blaring. Scott fixed his eyes on it for a moment and then shifted his attention back to Layla. Her face was in the letter. She was reading it slowly. As she read, he could see the emotions forming in her eyes, the frown on her face, and the tears streaming down her cheeks. He remained silent. He wanted her to read it thoroughly, with no interruptions. They stood on the Harlem street corner, and though surrounded by noise and traffic, it felt like it was only the two of them. They had more privacy outdoors than inside.

  Her eyes were flooded with blinding tears. When she finished reading the letter, Layla never felt so angry, furious, betrayed, and embarrassed. How could she have been so stupid? What kind of mother was she to leave her children vulnerable to be used as pawns in a twenty-year-old beef? Layla was visibly ill. Her hands got cold and clammy as her heart pounded so loud it felt like her eardrums would burst. It’s my fault, she thought. I paid this goon to kill my kids.

  Layla’s eyes locked with Scott’s and she uttered with contempt, “When do we kill this fuckin’ bitch?”

  Scott nodded. He understood her hurt and her pain. The letter revealed all that they needed to know—Maxine was the culprit behind everything. She was a mastermind, and they had greatly underestimated her.

  “It’s not that easy,” he uttered.

  Layla scrunched up her face. “Not that easy?”

  “There’s Bugsy and the baby,” he said.

  “And what they got to do wit’ it?”

  “First, we just beat federal indictments, and there’s still attention on us. We’re hot, and we’re in the news. We react to this now, and it’s gonna look bad on us,” he said.

  Layla seethed. She wanted Maxine dead—more than dead, she wanted the bitch to suffer, to be tortured until there was nothing left of her to torture, and then she wanted the bitch dismembered and her body parts scattered everywhere. Layla dried her tears, and now her heart was on fire with rage.

  “She murdered our children, Scott! Our fuckin’ babies!” Layla cried out.

  “And she will pay, but we need to be patient.”

  Scott felt her rage. Since Bugsy and Maxine came to visit him while he was incarcerated and told him about their affair, he only thought of the day they would both die by his hands. But he couldn’t rush to kill anyone—not yet, only when the time was right. And he needed Layla on board to help pull it off.

  “I have a plan,” said Scott.

  Layla was listening. If Scott wanted her to agree to Bugsy, then he had to agree to Lucky. Walking back to where they came from, they discussed whether they should sanction the murders of Bugsy and Lucky like they were at a boardroom table. If so, they had to worry about Meyer, knowing how close he was to his siblings. Would he want to retaliate?

  “If we do this, then we need to make the murders appear to come from an enemy. Tear a page from Maxine’s playbook. We can’t get our hands dirty. For now, we don’t mumble a fuckin’ thing to anyone—no one! We play things cool and enjoy being home for a moment,” Scott proclaimed.

  Layla was listening. She wanted him to keep talking. This was the Scott she fell in love with—smart, violent, and devious.