Mafia Princess part 2 (Married To The Mob)

by King, Deja

  Laughing in gratification and smiling in excitement, Paris lowered the gun. She had waited on this day for a long time and finally the day had come. She spit directly in Semaj’s face, disrespecting the dead woman. I spit on your weak ass when you were alive and now when you dead. You just that worthless to me, she thought.

  Paris turned around and looked at the destruction caused on her account. Everything had been destroyed. There were bullet holes throughout the place and blood everywhere, but she wasn’t remorseful. That was what the soldiers were for—to get all out of her way just to get that one person. Semaj’s death was worth them all. Her glory was short-lived once she heard sirens in the distance.

  I gotta get fuck from outta here, but first I’ma fill this bitch up with these bullets. WHOP!

  Before Paris could take a step, Semaj walloped her in the back of her head, sending her flailing in the water.

  Semaj had played dead. She had been involved with the mob long enough to know the measures to take in an attempt to survive and outsmart the opposition. She saw the gun, knowing that Paris would shoot her and kept her eye trained on Paris’s trigger finger. When Paris’s finger repositioned, Semaj slightly moved her head to the side, unnoticed, as the bullet nipped the side of her face and she dropped instantly for good measures.

  Paris squealed in pain as she attempted to get on all fours and crawl for a way out. Just as Semaj saw her scoot forward a bit, she forcefully kicked her in her ass. “Bitch, you ain’t going nowhere!”

  “Fuck!” Paris screamed as her head went flying, banging up against the hard floor.

  “Stupid, bitch!” Semaj shouted as she took her leg all the way back only to kick Paris smack dead in the back of her head. “You just come in my life and fucking ruin everything!” She stomped the back of Paris’s head repeatedly.

  “You could have fucked with anything else, but my fucking family!” Semaj pressed her foot into Paris’s back as she grabbed her long, sodden mane. With everything in Semaj, she banged Paris’s face hard and made sure that she met the hardness that was beneath the water. “You should have… stayed… the…fuck…away…from me!” She shouted.

  “You fucking stupid ass bitch come at me, and bring chaos into my life. Bitch everything was ‘pose to be about a dollar. You knew that. It was my hustle bitch, a hustle that I turned you on to. Like the rest of the victims, your gullible for pussy ass brother just got caught slipping. It was business, never personal.”

  “I can accept that y’all hated me for it though and wanted to harm me. But when you killed my son you may as well killed yourself, bitch!” Semaj shouted as she hit Paris over and over again. With every syllable she spoke, she brought Paris’s head back and forth like it was a bobble-head and slung Paris’s hair every which way, colliding her face with everything hard in sight. For lack of better words—Semaj was fucking Paris up.

  “You killed my baby! You set my auntie up! Now I’ma kill you, bitch!”

  She delivered her with nothing but head action, and Semaj became so furious she started to pummel Paris’s face with her bare hands, hook for hook, right to left and all of her punches were connecting. She hit her so hard that her knuckles had busted open, but she didn’t care. Semaj wanted Paris’s soul taken.

  Semaj loosened Paris from her clutches as she heaved in exhaustion and sweated profusely. Semaj rubbed the side of her face and looked down at her bloody fingertips. Paris had aimed for a headshot that would have sure enough ended Semaj’s life, and it left her entire right side ablaze. Tired of bullshitting with the bitch, Semaj picked up a machine pistol by the barrel that had been floating on surface. It was obvious that Paris wanted to kill her and Semaj definitely wanted the same thing for her. She had done the unthinkable when she blew up the limo her baby had been in, but there was no way that Semaj was about to make the end of her life easy.

  Loading her up with these bullets will send that bitch to hell too quick. When she meets the devil I want this bitch bruised and battered the fuck up. This bitch gotta feel me, Semaj thought as she wrapped her hair back into a loose ball. I’m going to keep beating this bitch’s ass until I can’t no longer. Semaj checked to make sure the gun was on safety and walked behind Paris as she weakly dragged herself up the three steps and onto an all concrete floor. WHACK. WHACK

  Semaj collided the gun with the back of her head with all her might, twice. Paris’s head snapped as it jerked forward sharply. Semaj had struck her so hard that Paris felt as if her neck had broken as she chocked and coughed up blood. Stunned and dazed, Paris spit the bloody saliva onto the floor. Seeing all of her blood, Paris was pissed and gathered all of her bearings. Aware that she’d be falling into unconsciousness soon, Paris reached into the pocket of her skin tight jeans to retrieve the bottle of liquid and unscrewed the lid.

  SPLASH!

  Without warning, Paris had flipped onto her back and threw the sulfuric acid in Semaj’s face causing the liquid to come back down on her stomach, burning through her clothes but Paris disregarded the pain because all that mattered was that she got to Semaj’s pretty little face.

  “Aghh!”Semaj yelled in excruciating pain as she lost all control. She stumbled back, looking at the small container in Paris’s hand. “What did you do!” Semaj’s hand shot to her face as her skin felt as if it was eating away at her ear and down her neck. “What is this?” she screamed as she brought her fingers to her nose to sniff. There was an odorless smell. Semaj panicked, and her face felt as if it had been set on fire. She was so focused on the stinging sensation that it gave Paris the chance to gain advantage, and she pulled Semaj down to the ground by her calf. The hard fall gave Paris just enough time to regain her composure and get the upper hand.

  “I hope your fucking face burns off,” fumed Paris. “See how my brother felt, bitch!”

  Paris moaned as she weakly crawled on her knees in search of a loaded weapon. She grabbed an automatic rifle and as she shifted her aim, waving it through the air, Semaj was already on her ass despite the pain. WHOP!

  Semaj had knocked her upside the head in a desperate effort to cause her to release the gun, but Paris wasn’t letting up. She had a grip so tight her hands were turning red and hurting from the pressure. Semaj wasn’t giving up easily either, and grabbed Paris’s wrist and used her on upper position as an advantage as they both struggled for power.

  They tussled, flipping each other over, rolling back and forth as they alternated from top to bottom; but all movements came to a slow stop and their eyes darted to the door when black hooded goons came through. Semaj then knew it was over. At that moment, she saw her life flash before her eyes. This was it and her day had come, but what she didn’t know was she and Paris shared the same thoughts. I ain’t finna die without a fight, Paris thought as she wrapped her finger around the trigger and pulled it without hesitation.

  Bullets spewed loosely and flew wildly as each shot connected with the single standing mirrors and both their bodies jerked violently with ever slug that discharged. The cracking noises from the frames caused them to look up in fright, but by then the damage had been done. The last thing they saw was mirrors as several came crashing down over them all at once.

  Epilogue

  The lead homicide detective shook his head as he watched the EMTs load the only breathing body onto the gurney. The crime scene was like none that he had seen in his entire twenty-six years on the job. The bodies found throughout both floors made the crime scene a human slaughterhouse. Familiar with homicide scenes, he knew this was workings of a street war.

  “This is a sad, sad way to bring in a new year,” he whispered disgusted, as he carefully stepped through all the destruction. The detective knew that the woman was lucky to be living. They had discovered numerous bodies underneath the mirrors and all throughout the suite, but the young lady had been the only fortunate one that came from beneath all the wreckage alive. Everyone else had been D.O.A. Half her body had been trapped underneath the mirror and glass particles had cut into he
r skin, but she had been a blessed soul. Undoubtedly, her survival was nothing short of a miracle.

  Members from the CSI unit had just wrapped up on snapshots and at their access, the coroner’s personnel zipped up body bags. Detectives had started to gather the large number of weapons they found and placed them into labeled plastic evidence bags. Homicides were always terrible because most weren’t able to accept death at the hands of other, and there was going to be a lot of families hurt, and sadly, a lot of media coverage on the New Year massacre. The Chief might not even be prepared to explain this to the community at the press conference, he thought as he was about to depart, but stopped in his tracks when he heard commotion.

  “We have another live one over here!” one of the coroner’s personnel announced. He looked back in disbelief and immediately recognized that the man must have fallen through the ceiling. The EMTs raced over and loaded him onto the stretcher preparing to move the victim to the hospital. “He had to have been unconscious from losing so much blood, but there is a pulse. It is a weak one, but nonetheless we have another survivor,” the male EMT said pleased to have another one who made it.

  The detective nodded at the paramedic as they rushed to transport the other surviving victim to the ambulance and he was quickly on their heels giving orders. As they pushed the gurney down the hallway and stepped onto the empty elevator, the detective said, “Once you get this man to the hospital immediately have the doctors put him under an assumed name and report that name back to the precinct specifically for me. I need to find out what went on tonight.”

  The man nodded as they exited the elevator and rushed the body out of the automatic doors. Outside was complete pandemonium. Coroner’s vans, several medical examiner trucks and patrol cars filled the streets as spectators lined behind the yellow crime scene tape.

  As the paramedics prepared to put the body on the back of the ambulance, Jah-Jah broke through the tape again, running full speed in hopes that this time it was Bonjo. Jah-Jah had crippled at the knees when the first gurney came out with a female on there, but was too frantic to recognize the woman. Only face she wanted to see was her husband’s. She had been going through it ever since she realized that Bonjo hadn’t come out after them. But by the time she noticed, NYPD was already flooding the place and on scene investigators prohibited anyone from going inside.

  Please God let this be my husband. He’s my everything. He can’t die. How would I explain to my daughter that he’s dead, Jah-Jah

  thought in desperation.

  When she saw her husband’s bloody head, Jah-Jah felt as if the ground had been taken from beneath her. She fell to her knees, scrapping her kneecaps up. “Oh my God! Please! My husband! Tell me he gon’ make it!”

  “Get up, Jah,” Sosa said as she pulled her onto her feet and turned to the paramedic. “Is he going to live?”

  “Hopefully,” the EMT replied. “We have to get him over to the hospital, so they can immediately begin surgery. It appears that he had fallen through the ceiling and we need to see if there is any head trauma. Since this is her husband she can ride with us.”

  Just as she watched Jah-Jah climb onto the back of the ambulance, Sosa spotted Gio racing through the crowd, followed by five bodyguards. Oh my God! He is about to blow up all of New York if we don’t find Semaj alive. Lord Father God, I have never asked you for anything. But I beg that you find some way to allow Semaj to surface.

  “Where is my granddaughter, Sosa?” Gio asked as he approached her with a look that could kill. “They said there were two survivors. Was Semaj one?”

  “I don’t think so. Jah-Jah saw the girl before they carted her off to the hospital and she didn’t say anything about it being Semaj.”

  At that moment, LuLu ran up with a crazed expression etched to her face. For a minute she didn’t speak, but the look Gio possessed reflected hers and LuLu knew he needed an explanation. “All of us are accounted for except for Semaj. I went through all measures and I can’t find anything out regarding Semaj.” She dropped her head. “Uncle Gio the last place we have to check is the city morgue. I’ve been told that they have recovered a female body from inside the suite with gunshot wounds to the face and they have already transported the woman to the morgue. Someone needs to come and identify the body.”

  He clasped his hands together tightly as his cold eyes turned bloodshot red. Gio felt a mixture of indignation and blame pulsating through him. “What I want to know is how all of you came out of the shooting unscathed and my granddaughter is missing? Missing and better to be found very very soon,” Gio said sternly, his strong baritone voice cracking from emotion.

  “Marcela and Emilia was shot and Bonjo was inju—”

  He cut Sosa off. “Shot, injured and dead is completely different things. If anything has happened to Semaj, all of you are getting a one-way ticket to the Dominican Republic. I never wanna see your fucking faces again!” Gio seethed. “I put her in y’all hands, because I thought it would be the safest, but from how things are looking I’ve been let down. I made a terrible mistake and I hate that I’ve trusted you girls with my granddaughter’s life,” he said cruelly. “If something has happened to Semaj I will never forgive any of you for this.” He didn’t even bother to stand there and hear their defense. He already knew what had happened but the thought of his grandchild being left to die was too much for him to fathom.

  “Gio got me all the way fucked up if he think he gon’ send me back to the Dominican Republic. We’ll be shooting it out with his goons before I be forced to leave the states. Point-blank, period!” Sosa promised as she felt the nagging tear in her left eye threatening to slip, but she refused to let it fall. “Long as Maj know we did everything in our power to keep her safe that’s all that matters,” Sosa told herself as she wiped her teary eye.

  “You ain’t got a muthafuckin reason to shed a tear until they drop that casket in the dirt and then we only mourn for that moment. You know how this shit goes, Sosa,” LuLu expressed, her hard nature never wavering. “We’ve tried our fucking best to protect Semaj and put ourselves on the frontline in order to keep her out of harm’s way and this is the thanks we get! Fuck Gio and every muthafuckin’ thing he stands for!” She watched Gio get into the back of the limo with hate in her eyes. “If we gotta war with him, too, then so fucking be it. We ain’t going nowhere. It is what it is. Fuck Gio!”

  Paris slowly opened her heavy eyelids as policemen lifted the weighty mirrors off the lower half of her body. She tried to move her legs but her attempts were futile. The heaviness of it had caused them to spasm up. She felt slightly dizzy from being knocked out as the horrendous smell of death invaded her nose and made her headache worse as they pulled her from the damage.

  Please let this bitch be stinking. With all of this damage, she has to be one of the ones, Paris thought.

  Once she was placed safely on a gurney and the female EMT prepared to push her out, Paris grabbed her by the arms and begged. “Please. My sister was here with me. Could you just hold on a second so I can see if she was able to escape this madness,” she managed to say despite the pain in her bottom half.

  “I’m not supposed to do that ma’am, so do it as quickly as possible while I strap you in,” the female paramedic suggested as she continued her job.

  She struggled to lean forward and began searching through the sea of dead bodies with the little strength she still had left in her. Where is she? I hope that bitch wasn’t lucky enough to stand it all, Paris thought. When she got a glimpse of the corpse the men pulled up a slight smile crossed her face. The face appeared as if it had been blown completely off The face was unrecognizable. Paris knew who it was though. Not from the features but from what Semaj wore. The clothes told it all. The brown stilettos. I remember them heels. That dress. I remember that rose shit on the dress, Paris thought as she finally was able to lie back in satisfaction.

  It felt as if the skin on her stomach was frying from the acid burns and her throbbing head was about to
explode from the blows she receive, but as long as Semaj hadn’t made it through the pain was worth it. Ox must have sent some extra goons through just in case the first set didn’t get the job done, Paris figured them were the henchmen she seen before she blacked out. Only the workings of Ox, she grinned as she closed her eyes giving in to fatigue.

  When Paris came to, she was woozy from the pain medicine nurses had shot through her. Her body was exhausted but Paris felt the feeling back in her legs as she wiggled her toes and then moved her legs up and down. “A bitch felt like she was paralyzed,” Paris said and then reality kicked in. Paranoia seeped through her heart as the thought of someone coming to kill her settled in. “I know the Dominicans probably aware that there was a survivor. They’d come looking for me here. That’s if they aren’t already here. I gotta get the fuck from outta here. I’m on their turf. I ain’t scared to die, but I’m not stupid. I ain’t built for the torture they’d bestow upon me. Fuck no,” Paris crawled out of the hospital bed.

  Slipping into the patient paper shoes, Paris tied the hospital- issued gown tight and despite her fragile condition she sprung to the door. All she had to do was get out of the hospital and place a call to the goons she had waiting at the airport for her. Once I give them a ring they’ll be here to get me quick.

  Paris peered cautiously out of the door and saw the nurses manning their daily tasks. She sneakily made her way around the corner and over to the door that led to the stairwell. She didn’t want to chance running into any concerned doctors or bumping right into the Dominicans. Just as she pulled the door, Paris spotted two men rounding the corner and then she descended the steps urgently.

  As she traveled down the fifth flight she heard a door open, and paused, pressing her back against the wall. She heard a heavy Dominican accent speaking into an apparent earpiece, “Let Gio know that the girl is no longer in her room. Secure all floors and its stairwells.” There was a brief pause and then Paris heard, “Tell Gio I’ll check one more time but still, you all secure all exits points.” The instant the door closed, Paris sprinted down the rest of the stairs. Finally she reached the bottom floor and peeked her head out. When Paris didn’t see anyone, she raced down the hallway, but the sound of heavy and slow footsteps nearing provoked a rare fear and she pulled opened the first door she saw.