Mafia Princess part 2 (Married To The Mob) Page 3

  She gripped onto the railing of the balcony and released some of the anxiety that she was feeling with a long sigh. Her eyes got lost in the shooting star as she tried to shake her past from her thoughts. “Married! I’ma be a wife,” she confessed to herself.

  Semaj knew that she didn’t have time to dwell on the past. She had to focus on her family, her life, and find out what her future held, but she would soon discover that it held more than most men could handle—a life that her mother got introduced to at a very young age. Gio had been the one to inform her on her mother’s involvements with the family’s drug business.

  When it came to Semaj, Gio held nothing back. He ran her entire family history from jump, wanting to give her the game, the ins and outs of the illegal business so that she could stay on alert just in case something happened. She knew her grandfather was a drug lord. It was no secret, but she knew not to discuss the Family to outsiders. It was an unspoken silence, and she was well aware about keeping her mouth shut. It was called “Family Secrets” next to Omerta; a code of silence.

  But soon, Semaj would learn that she wasn’t only born into the mob, but built for the Mafia.

  Semaj and her family walked out of the building with an entourage of six men in black suits following them. It was unusually warm and gorgeous outside for it to be mid-winter, and on the perfect, sunny day her son had been christened. But little did Semaj know that it wouldn’t stay perfect for long, and the block was about to get hot.

  As they walked down the forty-four courtyard-styled church’s steps, laughing and making their ceremonious farewells, Paulie took a sleeping Niran from Semaj’s embrace. He squirmed around as Paulie cradled him against his blanketed chest. “Poppa gon’ have you out here all day, Maj, introducing you to the family. This baby boy is drained and worn out from today’s occasion. I’ll be waiting in the car for you all to finish up. Take your time. I have some important calls to make in private.”

  An eerie feeling came over Semaj as she watched as her uncle descended the staircase with her baby in his arms. The further he got down the flight of steps, the more she felt as if he was leaving from her life permanently. Her heartstrings seemed to be pulling towards her son, and as she fixed her mouth to summon him back in her care, Gio directed her in the opposite direction.

  “I have someone that’s been dying to see you again.” He put his hand on the small of her back and led her to the limo waiting curbside as she watched the congestion of cars pass by and Paulie look both ways before crossing the busy street.

  Paulie slid into the backseat of the bulletproof limousine after the chauffeur opened the door and stood waiting for the rest of the family.

  “Your great-great grandfather, Marriano Milano, the man that started it all!” Gio boasted with a wide smile. “He’s one-hundred- and-one years old, but has a memory bank as clear as a bell.”

  Without averting her attention from the limousine, Semaj extended her hand and replied, “It is really nice to see.”

  “BOOM!”

  Metal and glass fragments flew everywhere, showering the city streets as the limousine exploded right before Semaj’s eyes and damaged all the cars in its vicinity. The ground shook violently beneath her feet as if an earthquake had hit Manhattan, sending her flying backwards onto the pavement, along with knocking many others from their feet. Her ears went deaf to everything around her as the loud explosion and blaring sound of her head throbbing rang loudly in her ears.

  The sight of amber flames engulfing the car and creating a black smoky cloud in the air forced Semaj to scramble to her feet. “Nooo!” she screamed as she ran toward the burning limousine across the street. She sprang over all the destruction as she watched the fire swallow up the car. She saw the blaze swirling, causing the large trees and bushes near to catch fire. A fear incited her that she had never known as she was approaching the wreckage.

  Debris from the car scattered all across the street while the remains was quickly burning. She knew it was only a matter of time that the fire would spread to the gas tank, but that didn’t stop her. She was out of her mind and at this point delusional. Her baby was inside that car, and she needed to get him out so that he could go home with her.

  Her entire body went numb, as she maneuvered through the dispersing crowd, and realization settled in as she bent over in disbelief. The agonizing thought of her son charring caused her maternal instincts to kick in, and she opened the blistering door despite the excruciating pain the hot metal produced. When the door flung open she saw Paulie lying on the limo floor hunched over her son’s body. Instantaneously, she felt strong hands tugging at her, but she ferociously fought them off. “No! Please! My baby!” she screamed, squirmed and swatted the rough, rigid hands as she turned to see that her grandfather was dragging her away from what had already been destroyed as fire trucks and paramedics surrounded the scene and jumped out in their required gear and

  equipment in an attempt to snuff out the fire.

  But it was too late. Baby Niran and Paulie had died in the detonation of the car.

  “Please! I have to get my son!”

  The explosion was very intense, and it was obvious that they were gone. Her son was gone. What was supposed to be a joyful affair turned into a horrid tragedy, and it broke Semaj down to her knees.

  As Gio looked his granddaughter directly in her eyes, he saw the unbearable pain embedded deeply within her puffy, bloodshot, devastated gaze. A rare emotion of pain passed over him, and at that moment he knew a war had just begun, and he would stop at nothing to see the persons responsible for the bomb plot buried six-feet deep; Dead or Alive.

  Welcome To The Mob….

  Chapter 2

  Gio’s head rested against the plush seat as he watched the tiny ice pellets fall from the murky skies as the driver pulled into the gated community. It had been over fifteen years since Gio lived in New York, but the chaos surrounding him and his family forced him into a long-term stay back on the East Coast. He was enraged by the unforeseen ambush that had been committed against his family. And as he rode in the backseat of the Rolls-Royce Ghost, retaliation consumed him. His anger reached such a boiling point that it now had a mind of its own, and anyone he assumed guilty would die.

  As the driver pulled up, Gio observed the picture perfect mansion that would to most appear to be the ideal family home, but there was nothing ideal about the Mafia.

  Gio was the mastermind of the international drug operation and made sure things ran smoothly. Although they were a part of the underworld, he made sure to keep his family almost undetectable. So, the Family Business existed, even to the authorities, like some sort of UFO. There were even mentions about the Family, but there wasn’t any solid proof of their existence like various other Families. Gio’s main priority was to keep them under the federal government’s radar, and that was his sole reason for aligning himself with great political figures.

  The Milano’s had numerous legitimate businesses, all the while holding reign over the drug trade, further cementing the Family’s power. They owned a chain of private hospitals, mortuaries, funeral homes, and cemeteries, all of which proved cleaver—for both drug smuggling and also safe hiding places. He had an international aircraft travel business for the deceased as a front to transport drugs, where bodies were stitched with narcotics. He knew his investments would be perfect because it would also help them conceal the evidence of the murders they might partake

  As Arturo opened up the backdoor, Gio stepped out in a floor-length wool trench, and out of habit he looked both ways. He took a deep breath as he prepared himself for what he was about to encounter, knowing his pain didn’t compare to that of Semaj’s heartache.

  There were many henchmen stationed around the house, but Gio was so bothered that he didn’t acknowledge any of them as he passed by and proceeded into the Milano family home.

  “Uncle Gio,” Emilia mouthed as she pointed at the phone cradled to her ear, indicating that she was collecting information
on the other end. She was the most resourceful of the sisters and always had her ears to the streets. Emilia was the brains, and she was the oldest. She seemed to be the one with useful tactics, and it never took her more than a week to gather the specifics. Don’t ask how, because even Gio didn’t know, but she had major connections. The perfect leader of the professional murderesses, Emilia was coldblooded but brilliant.

  He greeted her with a head nod and was well aware that she was already on top of things.

  LuLu noticed him and immediately walked over. “Don’t worry about nothing, Uncle Gio. The people that murdered our family will suffer a painful death. We won’t stop until we take what they took of ours three times over.”

  Gio knew that she was serious. Although the youngest of the Family, at nineteen LuLu was the nuttiest and was a natural born killer. She was the one to shoot first and never asked questions later.

  There was nothing hesitant about her when it came to her murder game. She put it down like no other.

  “I know, Lu.” He wanted to pull his niece in for a hug but he knew that wasn’t her style. There wasn’t a sensitive bone in her body, and Gio respected it. LuLu reminded him the most of his brother. For lack of better words, LuLu was a “goon” and she kept it gangster. “Where are the rest of the ladies?”

  “I’m right here, Uncle. Marcela is upstairs with Semaj,” Sosa said as she emerged from the kitchen. She was what you called the different one. She could have easily passed for a ‘hood chick. Her butter-pecan complexion was the darkest, and with shoulder- length caramel-layered hair and hazel eyes, her natural beauty had been the perfect bait for their victims. Feisty as they come, Sosa had a fetish for designer threads and powerful Glocks. Needless to say, she was a fashion junkie and an addict for murder. The ghetto one out of the bunch, Sosa was a loudmouth, but there was no denying that she was a real bitch.

  Gio ascended the steps two at a time and sighed as he walked past Semaj’s bedroom where two armed bodyguards stood. He headed down the hallway to the guestroom Vega was in and knocked on the door.

  “Come on in,” Vega called out as he stood staring out of the window solemnly, watching as the snowflakes fell from the skies. He turned around and saw Gio standing in the doorway. He grabbed his suit jacket and eased into it comfortably. He was dapper in a black-on-black custom fitted suit, but the dull pain inside made him feel like shit. He was supposed to be his family’s protector, and right underneath his nose their most innocent member had been killed, and now he and Semaj were forced to bury their infant son. What had been a great dream had quickly turned into their worst nightmare. Niran had been what had solidified their love, and Vega just hoped with him gone their love would survive.

  While grieving the loss of their child, at the same time Vega had to be strong for Semaj so she wouldn’t fall completely apart.

  He watched as she forced herself to sleep at night, and even though he tried to console her, emotionally she seemed to be trapped in her own world and unwilling to let anyone in, including him. But Vega understood that she was more than likely trying to fight off the same haunting images of their son that consumed his every thought.

  At the same time, he knew that if he didn’t step up and remain strong, that this devastating tragedy would destroy them both. Vega refused to let that happen, so instead of wallowing in his grief, he had his own crew searching for a leak. There was no doubt in his mind that Gio had all of his people on it, but sometimes the most useful and important information comes from street sources that Gio might not have access to.

  “It’s time,” Gio said, walking inside the room. “But first, there is something that needs to be addressed, my son.”

  “What’s up, Poppa?”

  “Call me Gio,” he corrected, not even giving him the respect of facing him. He walked over to the bay window and pulled out a cigar. With his back turned to him, Gio wrapped his chubby finger around the cigar and toked on it as he stared out the window.

  This nigga can call me son, but I can’t call him Poppa, Vega thought. He knew Gio wasn’t too fond of him and only dealt with him because of Semaj, but Vega didn’t care, because the feelings were mutual. It’s only a matter of time before my plans come into play, he thought treacherously. Fuck this nigga wanna talk to me fo’ anyway?

  It seemed as if hours had passed before Gio finally turned to Vega, but when he did he stared him in the eyes coldly. “I’m aware that you have people seeking out who was behind the hit. But that is an area you need not tend to. Your main concern should be helping Semaj get through these difficult times. Trust me; you don’t have enough power to back you up. This life is deeper than the ‘hood shit that you’re used to, my friend. Handle your people in Baltimore and ensure your wife’s safety, and your job is done.

  Anything outside of that will result in your death.” Without waiting on his response, Gio brushed passed him hard.

  It took all of Vega’s willpower not to go for his pistol and shoot Gio in his back. He felt totally disrespected, but he knew that he might as well turn the gun on himself if he did that. My son was killed and this mufucka thinks I’m just ‘pose to sit and watch like a sitting duck or some shit? Got me all the way fucked up. I’ma show this slick-haired fuck just the type ofniggas a ‘hood nigga recruits, he thought as he shot daggers as Gio exited the room.

  When Gio approached Semaj’s bedroom, he stopped as he looked at her through the full-length mirror she stood in front of.

  She was dressed in an all black Prada pencil skirt set that he specifically picked out for her to wear. It was tailored to fit her five-foot-seven frame perfectly. Her long, coal black hair was pulled back into a sophisticated donut. As she slipped her left hand into the black satin glove, she repeated the same gesture, but this time she slowly slid her blistered hand inside, careful not to scrape her scalded palm. The beyond scorching door handle she latched onto had caused it to bubble up badly, but the injury was very minor compared to the battle wound of losing her only child.

  Semaj spared herself of any makeup because her crying would eventually ruin it. Her beauty was natural anyway, but even so, an ugly pain within was written all over her face. Although there weren’t any tears, her eyes were bloodshot red and swollen, and it was obvious that she had been crying nonstop.

  Marcela had helped Semaj prepare for the dreadful task that awaited them. As a matter of fact, she hadn’t left her side since Niran’s untimely demise. To have to bury the youngest member of their family was daunting, but Marcela knew that the united strength of the family would pull them through it.

  Marcela was quiet and laidback. A woman of very few words, she didn’t speak unless she had something important to say. Although close with all of the girls, she and Semaj shared a tight bond. They were the same age and Marcela was an all out sweetheart. But don’t get it twisted, because she had a heart as chilly as an Antarctica winter, and when she came through, she came through, and it was one bloody murder one after another.

  “Marcela, I appreciate you being by Semaj’s side while I was away. I heard you’ve been her rock, and for that I thank you.”

  “We’re family. You know I’ma always make sure the Family is straight,” she replied. Marcela walked over to Semaj and whispered in her ear, “I’ll be waiting for you downstairs.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed her uncle’s cheek before she exited.

  When the two of them were alone, Gio walked towards his granddaughter. For the past six days, Semaj hadn’t eaten or spoken a word, but somehow her granddad’s presence made her feel comfortable and eased her weary soul a bit. She was grateful that he was there so she could finally express herself. “Poppa, I’m feeling

  as the time nears that I can’t do this I don’t want to do this. It’s

  as if when the bomb went off and took my son, I died too,” she said, and as her legs had given out underneath her, she fell onto the ottoman and buried her head in her gloved hands.

  Gio rushed to her side, and as he sat beside her
he intertwined their hand. Wrapping his arm around her neck he pulled her closer to his chest as her tears poured from her soul. He knew that she would take her son’s death hard. He too felt the pain of losing a child. Actually, he had lost all of his seeds. He had no living children. Semaj was the closest thing that he had to an offspring, and now he definitely had to do everything in his power to protect her. His eyes filled with tears and threatened to fall, but he willed the tears away as fast as they had come.

  “I know this is very difficult for you, Semaj. It is difficult for all of us. But you have many people that love you. Many people that are doing everything that they can to bring us some answers. Saying good-bye will be hard for us to digest, but I promise you that we will get through this as a family.”

  “But why me? It seems like everything I love gets taken away from me. First, my mom, then my auntie, then my dad, and now my son. Uncle Paulie too. How much more does God think I can take? He was only a baby, and it’s like his life on Earth didn’t exist to begin with!” she cried. She felt as if she was dying a slow painful death with no timeline on when the suffering would end.

  “Know it will take time for you to heal, but your son, my great grandson is gone, but his memory will live on,” Gio said soothingly. He stood up with her still held in his arms and kissed her on the top of her head. “Dry your tears, because we don’t play fair. We don’t believe in an eye for an eye. Take one of ours, we need three, four, five of yours. That’s just how we play, and we play for keeps. We will avenge the murders. You understand that their death will not go unpunished, Maj?” he asked.

  Semaj nodded her head unsurely as they walked down the long hallway and descended the steps. Their relatives were already waiting in the foyer for them, and together they all walked out of the house, unprepared to say their final farewells to Paulie and baby Niran.