La Bella Mafia

by Ashley

  —Miamor

  The serene country street was void of all threats as Miamor sat in the rental car outside of a modest two-story home. The small city in middle of nowhere, Idaho, was quiet, peaceful, and completely off the map. Miamor completely understood why it had been chosen. It was where you would go to run from your past. It only existed to its own residents. Outsiders had no knowledge of the place whatsoever. She secretly wished that she could find a place that she could run away to with her family. How nice it would be to leave it all behind. Solace. She watched as children rode their bikes up and down the paved streets. The houses all matched. The lawns were perfectly manicured as automatic sprinklers swished sounds of home ownership into the air. Miamor saw no sign of trouble, no sign of drugs, guns, murder. There was absolutely no mayhem on these Idaho streets . . . just good people, living normal, safe lives. Must be nice, she thought. She exited the car and hesitated as a car passed her on the street. The driver smiled and waved. People are friendly here, she thought as she waved back. She crossed the street and approached the house that sat on the end of the block. It was beautiful and well taken care of with flowers planted around the perimeter of the large country porch. The creaking of a swing whistled in the wind as a little boy sat with shoulder length dreadlocks, rocking slowly as he played with toy trains. He kicked his feet joyously as the swing creaked with every movement.

  Miamor gasped at the sight of him and then her heart filled with warmth.

  “Hi,” she greeted. “Is your mom home?”

  The boy stopped swinging and on cue the front door opened with a gun immediately pointed at her face. The mother inside was so on point that she knew that an intruder had interrupted her son’s habitual swaying back and forth. Miamor stared down the barrel of a .357.

  “Miamor?” a voice of disbelief rang out, but the recognition didn’t cause the gun to lower. It was aimed at her, steady, unflinching, and ready.

  “Hello Aries,” Miamor greeted. Aries held the gun firmly in her grasp as she stared into the eyes of a cold-blooded killer. Miamor was the devil in a dress and she hesitated before she decided to take a chance and lower the gun. Confusion filled her eyes.

  “Miamor . . .” Her brow furrowed.

  The little boy stood up and ran to his mother, clinging to her leg. Aries peeled her son off of her. “Go to your room sweetheart. Lock the door and watch cartoons,” she instructed, her voice stern.

  The little boy nodded and disappeared inside of the house.

  “You think I’m going to hurt you? I would never bring harm to you Aries. You’re my friend.” Miamor’s voice didn’t reveal the stab of anguish she felt in her heart. If her own friend feared her, she must have been a monster. How did it come to this? she thought.

  “Yeah well I thought you were dead and I don’t let my guards down these days . . . for anyone. Even friends,” Aries replied.

  Miamor looked down at her body. “I’m wearing Prada and five inch heels Aries. You really think I came to put in work looking like a super model?”

  Aries icy demeanor chipped away a little bit and she smirked. “Bitch nobody said you look like a super model. I see we’re still arrogant huh?” Aries cracked. Her face melted into a smile. “You look great for a dead woman,” she cracked. Aries put the gun on safety and embraced Miamor. “You have a lot of explaining to do,” she said.

  “I know,” Miamor replied. “Are you going to invite me in?”

  Aries stepped back into the house and Miamor followed.

  “I’m proud of you,” Miamor admitted as she looked around the home. Everything was in its place. Modest, but extremely beautiful, Aries house felt like a real family lived in it. Plush carpet absorbed her feet, beautiful venetian blinds shaded the windows, while leather furniture sat on top of an opulent French rug. A stab of jealousy vibrated through her, but it only lasted for a moment. This was the life and she was glad that one of the Murder Mamas was blessed to live it. It wasn’t about the money or respect, it was about peace of mind. After the sins that they had committed Aries was lucky to find it. “You made it out. You have a home and a child. I assume there is a man?”

  Miamor sat down at the kitchen table as Aries went to the cupboard to start a pot of tea.

  “There used to be someone,” Aries said. “He was killed. The past knocked on my door and he got mixed up in some bullshit. I bounced around from place to place. Went back home to the Islands, then to Montana to settle a score, to Arizona, and finally decided to settle here. I ditched the accent to blend in and I started over. This place felt the safest.”

  Aries filled the kettle with water and placed it over the blue and orange flame on the stove. Miamor admired her. She’s so normal now, Miamor thought. She then took a seat across from Miamor. “What happened to you Mia?” A dark cloud seemed to shift over their heads as the mood changed. The reunion had turned dark as the thought of their dead friend loomed over them.

  “I was in hiding,” Miamor admitted. “Running from Mecca. I only came back after Carter killed him.”

  “But we got your hands sent to us in a box,” Aries whispered.

  Miamor shook her head. “It’s a long story but they weren’t my hands.”

  “You left us,” Aries whispered. “We were in the middle of a fucking war and you just dipped. You left us stuck. Where were you when they took Robyn’s life?” The reunion between the two of them was bittersweet. Miamor had been their leader. Aries couldn’t help but think if she had stayed things may have turned out differently.

  “I cried for a week straight when Robyn was executed. I’m sorry Aries. I should have been there,” Miamor whispered. “You all were my sisters.”

  Tears accumulated in Aries eyes. “They put her down like a dog,” she whispered. She quickly swiped the emotion away. “You have a child?” she asked.

  Miamor frowned. “How do you know that?”

  Aries chuckled. “You put on some weight. The bad bitch I know don’t play that. You wouldn’t gain a pound. A baby is the only explanation. Can I assume that you’re back with Carter?”

  Miamor smiled. She missed this intimate interaction with Aries. No one had known her better than the Murder Mamas. They were family. Despite her love for Carter and her growing bond with Breeze and Leena, she was never as intimate with anyone as she was with her crew. “I am. Which is why I’m here. I need your help Aries. There’s a case against Carter, Zyir, and Monroe . . .”

  “Monroe?” Aries questioned in shock. “What the fuck? Everybody is just rising out of their graves in Miami?” The revelation hit her the same way it had everyone else when they first found out Money was alive, like a ton of bricks. “I saw that man in his casket.”

  “He’s alive,” Miamor confirmed. “He lay in a coma for five years but he breathes just like you and me. The case that the Feds have brought down on The Cartel is solid enough to send everyone away for life. They’re on the run . . .” Miamor wouldn’t have shared that information with anyone else, but she had trusted Aries with much more. Miamor hid no truths from this old friend. They had done and seen it all . . . together. “I’m being watched or I would put the work in myself. This fucking prosecuting attorney would love to catch me up in the RICO case. You’re not on the radar though Aries. You could get in and out. Help me make this go away.”

  “You want me to murk a P.A.? Have you lost your mind Miamor?” Aries asked. They had gotten away with their share of murders in their day, but this situation reminded her too much of the one that sent Robyn to the death chamber. “You know this is how Robyn got caught up. We aren’t bigger than the law.”

  Miamor’s gaze toughened. “We are the law Aries. You’re a Murder Mama. This suburban neighborhood with manicured lawns got you confused ma? Anybody can get it. Niggas, bitches, children . . . white, black, fucking purple. I will do anything to bring my man home.”

  “Yeah but you’re not Mia. You’re asking me to and I just can’t. I’m out of the life,” Aries protested firmly.


  “Maybe but this certainly isn’t living Aries,” Miamor’s tone softened as she sympathized with her friend. “You have to be lonely here. You have no family, no friends . . . just you and your son. Come back to Miami with me. I want to be a part of your son’s life. I want you to be an aunt to mine. We are the last two standing,” Miamor said genuinely.

  “Miami is Cartel territory Miamor. You can forgive and forget because you love the nigga that’s in charge of it, but I still remember. I remember the war. The beef . . .”

  “They are good people,” Miamor interrupted. “And I need you there. Carter’s half way across the world and he won’t ever come home unless I make it happen. I need you to help me get this case off his back.”

  Aries shook her head. “Nah, Miamor. That’s your problem, not mine. I’m not ever coming back to Miami.”

  Miamor wanted to press the issue but out of respect she didn’t. They had done a lot of dirt together and it wasn’t Miamor’s right to push Aries into re-entering the life. “Okay,” she said. She stood to her feet thinking that there was nothing left to say. Miamor needed Aries, but she did not blame her for declining the proposition. Aries was loyal, she always had been; Miamor knew that it would not be easy to get her to change how she felt about The Cartel. Love had caused Miamor to become soft, but Aries was still Aries and she would forever throw the middle finger to the organization who killed Anisa. It was just the way that she was built.

  Miamor began to walk toward the door but was halted by the sound of her name. “Mia . . . you want to at least meet your nephew before you leave?” Before Miamor could answer the whistle of the teapot erupted in the air. Aries went to the stove poured two cups as steam drifted from the spout. She handed one to Miamor. “Come on,” she said. Miamor followed Aries up to the little boy’s room and when they opened the door they found him fast asleep on his bed.

  “You don’t have to wake him,” Miamor said. She walked over to the bed and knelt over the small child. “Auntie loves you.” She planted a kiss on his forehead.

  “His name is Tre,” Aries said.

  Miamor stood and went into her clutch. She removed a piece of paper and pen. “Take care of yourself Aries. I am so proud of you. If you ever need anything just call me.” She wrote down her number and address before handing it to Aries.

  “Thanks for coming by Mia,” Aries responded. She took the paper but they both knew that she would never use it. She was shutting the door on her past life and silently Miamor wished that she could do the same.

  “I love you Murder Mama,” Aries whispered sadly.

  Miamor closed her eyes for a moment and thought back to when they all were together; there had been five of them at a point in time. She was flooded with instant grief at the fact that three of them were no longer breathing. Did I lead us here? Are their deaths my fault? She thought. It was a burden that she would always carry on her shoulders. The loss of her sisters weighed heavily on her conscience. “I love you too Aries. Always.” Miamor opened the door.

  “Mia . . .”

  Miamor turned around to Aries.

  “Don’t try to kill the P.A. or the judge or none of that. It’s too dangerous. There’s more than one way to skin a cat. A dead public official will only make the government go for more blood. You need leverage,” Aries said. She shrugged. “But hey what do I know? I’m just a suburban housewife. Good-bye friend.” Miamor nodded and walked out of the house filled with hurt. It was a pain that she had never felt before because she knew this was the final good-bye. She was headed back to Miami to fix her problems on her own, but not in the way that she had intended. Aries had given her some words of wisdom, ones that would prove valuable in time.

  Chapter 5

  “He on that real suit and tie type shit.”

  —Fly Boogie

  Two Weeks Later

  Murderous thoughts filled Miamor’s mind as she thought of ways to tamper with the federal case. The role of motherhood had settled her a bit. It forced her to think first and react accordingly, but it did nothing to scratch the itch she had to make bullets rain from the sky. It was like a junkie craving a fix; when Miamor had a problem she solved it, period. Erring on the side of caution was like pulling teeth to her. As much as she wanted to reinstate her murder game, she could not. Miamor had to think about her son and if she went off the handle she wasn’t sure she would ever be able to recover. Murder was like heroin for her. The familiar feeling of revenge was hard to shake. Once she got a taste of her old lifestyle it would be hard to revert back to a normal life. Motherhood and the game didn’t mix and Miamor desperately wanted to get that part right. She wanted to be the wife and mother that her family needed, not the goon that streets required. She had to fix things. It was up to her to put her family back together but there were certain risks that she wasn’t willing to take at the moment. Although she didn’t see them, she knew that there were so many eyes on her that if she so much as jay walked they would bury her under the jail. In the past this problem would have disappeared already. It would have been nothing to tie up a wife or kidnap a kid to make a judge throw the case out, but in those days she had lived recklessly. Now, she had a child who depended on her and she would not sacrifice him in order to save Carter. She had to play it smart this time and use caution before she proceeded. She hadn’t heard anything further from Carter and she knew that she wouldn’t. It was too risky. Any communication between the two of them could cause exposure. Her mind spun with worry as she thought of him. He consumed her every waking moment. I have to make this go away. The doorbell rang and Miamor arose from her seat. Her housekeeper Magdalena had quit after being interrogated for hours by the D.E.A. so she was left to take care of the massive estate on her own. She hastened her steps to stop the guest from ringing the bell again. She couldn’t have the sound intruding on her infant son’s sleep. She pulled open the door and stepped aside as Fly Boogie walked inside. Neither she, nor, any of the girls could move freely so she had put Fly Boogie on the prosecuting attorney. She had eyes on him at all times as she slowly gained information about him.

  “What do you know?” Miamor asked, cutting directly to the point of his visit.

  “Not much. This mu’fucka is squeaky clean. He on that real suit and tie type shit,” Fly Boogie said as he dug his hands in his pockets.

  “Nobody is completely clean,” Miamor responded. “Everybody has dirty laundry, we just have to find the closet he’s hiding it in.”

  Fly Boogie shook his head doubtfully and handed her his phone. “Take a look for yourself. I’ve been stalking this nigga for days. This is all I’ve got, a bunch of pictures. . . but nothing stands out.”

  Miamor swiped her finger across the screen as she flicked through photos. She peered at the images with a critical eye. She sent each one to her email before moving to the next shot.

  “I’m telling you there’s nothing there. You should just let me get at the niggas who turning state. No witnesses, no case,” Fly Boogie said.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Miamor said quickly. She hadn’t told Fly Boogie her exact agenda. She didn’t know him well enough to trust him with the details. He was Zyir’s man and off of that strength she decided to use him to her advantage.

  “Yeah a’ight. Look I know a nigga young and fly and all that, but one thing ya’ boy Fly ain’t is dumb,” he answered. “You trying to find something out about the prosecution to shake shit up. When all you got to do is cut off a few pair of loose lips, nah mean? A nigga with no lips can’t do no talking.”

  Miamor smirked at the young hustler’s remarks. He was confident as if he had a cloak of invincibility. That type of bravado came with youth. She had lived many days with that same cockiness, but she was older and smarter. She knew better. She couldn’t kill everybody. This case was sewn up tightly. Too many low level hustlers and mid-grade buyers were exchanging testimony for deals. Most were hidden away in witness protection. One witness in one safe house was feasible, but mult
iple murders without the aid of her old crew was impossible.

  “Again, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she reiterated.

  Fly Boogie nodded and then proceeded to the door. “I can put in work and I’m not like these other li’l homies out here. Zyir is my man. Whatever I got to do to prove my worth, I’m with it. You can trust me.”

  “Good-bye Fly Boogie,” she said with a half-smile. The kid was growing on her and his charismatic personality paired with his knack for the streets was appealing. He was a young goon, and a hustler by any means necessary. He was Carter Jones before the Italian cut suits, drug kingpin status, business acquisitions, and overseas connects. Fly Boogie was gutter but had so much potential. He was ride or die. If they ever came out of this she would definitely tell Carter how helpful Fly had been. And if Carter never comes home, I’ll put Fly Boogie on my team, she thought, preparing herself for the worst.

  The sound of the grandfather clock ticked slowly as the pendulum swung back and forth. Leena tapped her nude, manicured, nails against the wooden arm of the office chair as she waited patiently. The nude jumpsuit she wore along with six-inch heels, stood out amongst the poorly dressed businesswomen around her. Their cheap threads paled in comparison to the immaculately styled attire she wore. While well composed in appearance, she was unraveling on the inside. She had become acquainted with the night hours since Monroe had gone away. Worry and stress etched permanent lines on her once youthful face. She was no longer a young girl in love with a bad boy. She was a grown woman, dealing with the consequences of loving a man whom conflicted with the law. Her choices had led her to this point. The choice to stay involved with The Cartel had been hers and now she was suffering, heart empty, future unpredictable. She was a dope man’s wife and to a young girl it was a dream . . . to a grown woman it was a nightmare. The position was glitzy on the surface but dulled the person she was within. Leena wanted out and as she sat waiting for the Diamond family accountant to summon her, she was determined to find her exit.