Mafia Princess part 2 (Married To The Mob)

by King, Deja

  Semaj wanted to respond, but the huge lump in her throat stopped her from speaking. “You think we can make that happen. I miss you so much. Sometimes I feel like I’m dying without you.”

  “I miss you so much too, Qua,” she managed to say as she nodded unsurely. He kissed her on her forehead. “I really miss your loyalty and friendship. You was a hunnid and never fell short on being real. That a rare and priceless trait in a man.”

  “We gon’ get all that back, Semaj. Just handle the situation with that nigga and I’ma be waiting for you.” He stared deeply into her eyes. “I’ll always wait for you, Maj,” Semaj smiled when he pulled out the other half of the charm and screwed it on to make it a complete heart. She was speechless. It was him the entire time. “With you my heart will forever be complete.” He opened her car door, tucked her safely inside and watched as she disappeared down the darkened road.

  As Semaj sat in her large dining room with twenty leather high-back chairs seated around her table she causally ate her Cobb salad. She took a few more bites before sitting the fork down. The redundant groans and whimpers caused her to become aggravated and it was pissing her off. Vega sat at the opposite end of the table, and due to his unremitting sobs Semaj was unable to enjoy her meal. “Will you shut the fuck up with all that weeping? You weren’t whining and crying when you was plotting and strategizing, nigga. Fuck you bitching up for now?” Something inside of Semaj had snapped.

  Vega had been severely beaten but Semaj could care less. Duct tape covered his mouth because she didn’t want to hear shit he had to say, although she wanted to see his pleading eyes. She wanted to see the regret and the remorse within them, and like she knew, Vega’s eyes were begging her to forgive him. But what he did was unforgivable and his betrayal was unforgettable. His hands were tied behind the chair and his head was pulled up straight by the ceiling’s rope. His eyes were semi-swollen shut and blood dripped from his mouth, but he deserved it. For his disloyalty, he warranted his own death.

  Since Semaj had found out about his betrayal she knew that he would die, and after seeing Quasim just the thought of her once being courted by a real nigga to marrying a nigga faker than a Chinatown Louie bag had her vexed. Fuck was I thinking? Fuck was he thinking? Thought we crossed the lines of lies and deceit before we jumped the broom, but that nigga must’ve had cruel intentions all along. I hate him for being so damn stupid. Dumb for thinking he’d get away with forcing me out. She stood and furiously swept her bowl to the other end in one dramatic motion.

  “Why would you betray me out of all people? When you could’ve had it all if we just fucking worked together! You made me look like a damn fool! I thought I could trust you! Here we are in a war with some muthafuckas and all along you secretly at war with us too!” She screamed as she picked up the empty champagne flute and threw it at him in frustration. The glass shattered on contact with his face, reminding her how her heart felt the day she’d learned of his disloyalty. She turned her back on him and took her time as she walked to retrieve her crocodile handbag with her pistol inside.

  Gio had ordered his nieces to kill Vega, but like Gabe’s murder, this one, too, was personal to Semaj. She had been blinded and allowed Vega to disrespect her family. She knew her grandfather felt some type of way about the fact that she had even considered giving Vega the benefit of the doubt. With his blood on her own hands was the only way to prove that she was sorry for her mistake. The act that she was about to commit would show the family that she was all for them and nothing meant more to her than loyalty.

  Emotions have to be thrown out of the window and the number one rule is to get before you be gotten, Semaj reiterated her mentor’s motto. She thought it was crazy when Valentina expressed that she had murked her husband, but now Semaj could relate.

  As she drew the drapes back from the huge bay window, Semaj sat at the windowsill. Vega’s bloody eyes managed to widen in desperation when he noticed the Glock come out, but there was nothing else that needed to be said. He had been dealt a good hand but played his cards all the way wrong. Vega had written his own death sentence. Semaj raised the gun and fired, piercing his face with three back-to-back slugs. She then called in her henchmen to come dispose of the body. She didn’t even bother to watch them carry Vega out. She looked up at the full moon that slightly poked out of the pitch-black night skies. RING, Ring! RING, Ring!

  The phone chimed and Semaj answered as she continued to peer in the distance. It was Valentina. “Funny thing is I was just about to call you.”

  “Well, I guess we were both on each other’s mind? How is everything coming along with Bonjo?”

  “Poppa got some people looking into it,” Semaj responded.

  “I’ve hired some powerful people of my own to get on it too. Don’t worry, the entire case will disappear. With my people and Gio’s connection it will blow over.”

  “I hope so, because his situation is starting to stress me out. Especially with me knowing that it was a setup.”

  “Relieve the stress by getting rid of the problem,” Valentina suggested. “The sooner the better.”

  “That’s something that I’ve already taken care of.”

  “Great!” Valentina caught her underlining meaning and a proud smile crossed her face. “Now what was it that you were calling me for?”

  “To ask for a favor. I hope you don’t mind, especially since you’ve already done so by helping out with this Bonjo situation,” Semaj said.

  “I told you anything you need I’ll make happen if I can. What is it, darling?”

  “You remember you said if I need your services with a certain situation you wouldn’t hesitate to send me some of your people?”

  “Of course I remember,” Valentina replied.

  “I need your assistance helping my people with this one. That man has taken things beyond too far. I’m ready to erase this

  problem for good.”

  “He’s throwing this Great Parade this weekend.” Valentina was well versed with the affairs of many men and for her, nothing or no one flew under the radar. “I’ll have our Russian friends supply us with the needed tools and I’ll have everything else set up perfectly. Very soon your problem will be past tense. Trust me.”

  Kingston Jamaica

  The Milano Hitters rode side-by-side through the paraded streets on saddles. Geared in army costumes and huge hats hid their identities as they neared their intended destination. The extended parade floats in front of them carried Dominican henchmen and shammed National Guard tanks that held Colombian passengers. There was a mixture of both descents on ground in what appeared as a marching military band surrounding all of their moving transportation. Everyone played their positions. There were more than twenty thousand attendees. Flags, instruments, and objects were held by men as they marched the streets. It was the perfect distraction for onlookers because they blended into the activity without causing a hint of suspicion.

  The consequences for putting a hit out on the Milano Family would be deadly for everyone near Ox’s gazebo. The blue, sunny skies and the scorching conditions should have been every indication that it was about to be a heat wave—one that Jamaica had been more familiar with than any other island—a hotness that drug violence often brought to their streets. Sosa knew she was about to lay motherfuckers down in broad daylight, and she and her sisters were about to show them how you supposed to shut shit down unlike the Rasta boys who had been reckless during their discharge. Sosa promised herself that they wasn’t leaving without Ox…dead or alive.

  The day has finally come where I get my revenge on this pussy nigga. He’s killed my people, setup my Poppa, beat me within inches of my life and this nigga play gangster. We gangsters for real. We breathe this shit. We live this shit. We do this shit. I’ma murder every mujucka around that clown ass nigga just fucking because. Her brow arched from a combination of impatience and eagerness. On the outside, one would never know her murderous thoughts, but on the inside, her blood was boiling. Thi
s hit was more personal for her and she was about to set it off.

  She was jarred from her thoughts as she felt the horse turn the corner with their entourage and made its way through the masses. Sosa went deaf as she looked around the crowded streets, searching for Ox and his hoodlums as she continued to survey her surroundings. She whipped her head eagerly as she tried to spot her mark amongst the sea of faces and then her eyes locked on him. There he was, laughing amongst dozens of young dreadlocked hooligans, carefree, as if he didn’t have a worry in the world.

  “We got all exit points guarded so your man won’t have an escape route. We got this fool,” Emilia whispered as she pulled on the saddler-rope and slowed the trained horse down from galloping fast.

  Sosa didn’t respond. She simply stared down the row at her sisters and nodded her head. She knew they was about to give the Jamaicans a shootout of the century. They each carried either an automatic AK-47 or an AR-15 and each weapon was loaded and ready. The four girls withdrew their assault rifles as they simultaneously aimed at their laughter-filled targets. With bated breaths, adrenaline pumping, rage pulsing through their bodies they opened fire on the Warfare Clan.

  Rat! Tat! Tat! BOOM! BOOM! POP! POP! POW! POW! BANG! BANG!

  The clatter of the different gun sounds was the beginning of the end. One after another, bullets flew in the direction of the perpetrators. The Milano crew had arrived on scene, guns blazing and relentlessly unloaded their weapons on the Jamaicans. The sound of assault rifles, machine guns and handguns filled the air as the downtown streets became an instant warzone.

  The parade suddenly turned into a frenzy as everybody began ducking low and running for cover. Pandemonium reigned. The thunder of feet stampeding and hysterical shouts could be heard all over. They wanted to leave a scene of carnage behind, sending a message that the Milano Family had come to town with no regard for humankind. A blood bath was their only way of retribution for Ox’s goons, and the Milano Hitters was making sure they left his entire band of reckless hoodlums drowning to death.

  With the unexpected intrusion, the Jamaicans had been completely caught off guard. They had come through on some Wild Wild West shit and the scene looked like a clip snatched straight out of an old western movie. Bodies were getting filled with bullets and jerking left to right. Everyone in their camp was on some real natural shooter shit and was laying motherfuckers out.

  The Jamaicans was down to only a few members but they needed all of them dead so they could get to Ox. Dead bodies were piled on top of each other and it was a complete horror scene. Even the Milano Hitters were slightly shocked at the sight. It was a gruesome one, but Semaj had given specific instructions and they were following orders. No one from Ox’s squad would be left standing.

  Hit in the chest, Ox was one of the many men sprawled out on the hot pavement, and since the gunners came there particularly for him no one was willing to leave without his body. A smile of satisfaction flashed across Sosa’s face as she noticed the very thin Colombian guy pick Ox up and throw him over his slender shoulder.

  I know that broad from somewhere, Emilia thought watching a familiar looking chick run for cover as she continued to let her cannons bark all the while trying to remember where she knew the chick from.

  “Don’t hit that little girl!” Sosa shouted as she hopped down from the horse and rushed over to the small child. Nearly everyone near Ox had been struck with lead, but the little girl was unscathed. As many bullets that flew, she was blessed. Nothing short of God had spared her.

  Shooting kids had never been a concern for Sosa, but there was just something about this little girl. Something had drawn her to the young child, and she instantly grew a soft spot for her. That must be Ox’s daughter, Sosa thought, immediately noticing the small resemblance. She didn’t know if it was because she knew the little girl would have been her child’s sister or the fact that she appeared close to the same age that her daughter would have been, but Sosa couldn’t bring harm to her. She was innocent and murdering her was not her objective…she only meant to dead Ox’s shooters not his seed.

  Feeling as if it was her duty, Sosa dodged bullets as she raced toward the little girl while exchanging shots with the remaining dreads. Uncommonly her sisters didn’t protest, and continued to shoot cover shots for Sosa as she scooped the small child up in her arms and quickly pulled the lid off the sewer. “Don’t come out until the police get here,” Sosa said as she placed her in the gutter. “You understand me?”

  The little girl didn’t respond and looked at her stubbornly. “What’s your name?” she asked.

  “Nyala,” she finally spoke.

  Nyala’s face reminded Sosa of a child she once knew, a child that she once was. It was as if her past had flashed right before her eyes and Sosa remembered it all. The many murders she witnessed as a little girl, the first murder she committed when she was twelve, and the time she spent with Ox. The pain of premature labor and then all of the blood. The blood! The blood surrounding her baby girl. Sosa had never been able to hold her deceased daughter and now here she was staring at a little girl that brought back all the memories of her own child, the child she lost, but why she began to wonder before the burning sting of a bullet ripping through her arm took over.

  “Aghhh!” Her hand fell over her left shoulder as she realized that she had been shot. In a split second, the situation had gotten out of hand and the blinding pain that shot through her jerked her body forward, but that didn’t stop her. It only enraged Sosa, and she snapped back into reality and scrambled to fire her weapon with her uninjured arm. With her right hand, Sosa shot exactly—dropping everything in her view. Her head did a 360 as she searched for a way back to the horse, but noticed a young dread sneaking up on her, gun aimed at her head. BOOM! A loud shot rang throughout the streets, and blood splattered all over Sosa— but not blood of her own. It was the blood of the gunman that shot her. LuLu deaded him instantly and grabbed her sister’s arm and they ran for dear life until they reached the horses. Their horses had taken bullets and were laid out with dead humans, so LuLu and Sosa jumped on the back of Emilia’s horse and fled from the butchery like some true cowgirls—it was finally the end of Ox’s terror…an end of an era of war with the Jamaicans. With Semaj in charge she had accomplished what no other Milano leader had— she had finally got Ox.

  “Bitch, are you even listening to what the fuck we talking about?” Sosa threw a silk pillow at Semaj’s head.

  “Man, I’m paying y’all asses some attention. I’m not deaf, mu’fucka.” Semaj shot the pillow right back, knocking the blunt from her mouth.

  “Damn, hoe,” Sosa jumped up after the cigarillo landed on her bare thigh. “You didn’t have to throw it so fucking hard.” She placed the blunt back in her mouth and toked. “You got something real heavy on your mind,” Sosa said. “But you need to snap back down to earth. You got an important decision to make. You have a chance to expand our family business internationally. Stepping outside the states to hit niggas off is huge. The global market is big business.”

  “You only wanna go because of the kid Nasah. Don’t act like it’s only about family business. I remember you telling me you ran into the nigga at the diner at the hotel that time.” Semaj said, her brow arched.

  “Girl boo, don’t try to reverse some shit on me, because your thoughts blurry up there. Fuck Nasah. Let’s get this money,” she laughed.

  The five girls sat comfortably around Semaj’s chocolate brown French sectional while scenes from the movie Cocaine Cowboys emitted from the wall-stretched flat screen as they planned the family’s next business move. Semaj was trying her hardest to concentrate, but she failed at it terribly. Every time she blinked, Quasim crept further into her thoughts. Her short time with him had been like a dream that she never wanted to wake up from. All her feelings for Quasim that she had put in a vault and locked away had now opened up and it had Semaj on an emotional high that her heart welcomed.

  Semaj nodded her head, folded
her legs underneath her and attentively looked at her cousins. They were more than her protectors, her enforcers, but the sisters that she never had. Semaj knew no matter their disagreements or arguments they were there until the casket drop, and knew she couldn’t chance another distraction so she refocused. They all I got, she thought. Me and Qua will never be able to go back to what is was or even start over to create something new. I’ma set the meeting up between him and Gio, but after that there will be nothing between us. We are over, Semaj tried convincing herself.

  “You’ve been real nonchalant lately, distant. You feeling some type a way about that snake-ass-nigga ain’t you?” LuLu stared at Semaj accusingly.

  “Girl, beat the block. Ain’t nobody worried about that. Fuck you constantly bringing the shit up for?” Semaj shot back.

  “Whatever. I just hope you ain’t regretting shit. That nigga deserved more than a gunshot. Should’ve put dude in the pond and fed ‘em to the alligators.”

  “The Milano way. Feel me?” Sosa stood up and pulled her .40 from her shoulder harness and pointed the pistol at LuLu. LuLu repeated the same gesture and they tapped guns. It was their way of high fiving each other. It was a silly, playful tradition that they shared since they were young.

  “You bitches is so lame for that pistol kissing shit. Who does that?” Semaj asked in annoyance.

  “Can you muthafuckas stop bickering for a hot little second? Y’all can get back to the irrelevancy in a minute,” Emilia said.

  “And irrelevant it is,” Semaj told her with a screw face.

  “Right,” Marcela said. “Emilia, what was that information you received from one of your sources this morning?”

  “Oh, yeah, I forgot about this little shit. Too busy trying to convince Maj to take the Queen up on her offer.”