by A. G. Khaliq
Donte’s face fell. He pulled me close to him, hugging me tightly.
“Baby, I'm so sorry,” he whispered.
“I had no idea…”
I'm a fucking awful person... I thought to myself, feeling so terrible it felt like I was going to explode.
“I’m glad you told me the truth. I knew that it wasn’t going to be anything crazy. I’m sorry I ever doubted you before…” he sighed. “But I know it’s a tough topic to speak about, so I won’t make you speak on it any more than you 299
already have.”
I felt his heart hammer against his chest, his chest rising and falling with the rapid deep breaths that he took in and out.
“I'll tell you about the Mafia now,”
Donte murmured. “When I was younger, I was born into a Mafia organisation. My mother and father used to take part in it, until they had me and my brothers. They didn't want to put their children’s lives at risk, because it's a very, very fucking dangerous world.
“So as me and my brothers got a little older, my mother and father slowly started to break off the rest of the organisation. Obviously with a Mafia, you're tied for life by blood, so while still being in the organisation, we decided to do things our own way.
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“Our relatives are criminals, so no, we're not completely innocent. But me and our family have tried our best to live a legal life. Without crime.
“We distribute legal firearms to cops. It's a very wealthy stream of work.
But unlike our ancestors, we don't sell drugs, and we never kill innocent people.
“All of our businesses, me, my brothers and my fathers. The software company, the strip club, the casino, the launderette. We've built them all from the ground up. We had to work very hard to get to where we are today.
“We didn't start off our businesses with the dirty money from our ancestors.
We put our blood, sweat and tears into building a legal empire from nothing.
“I won't lie to you, I have killed people in my life before, but never 301
innocents. It's always been rapists, paedophiles. Scum that don't deserve to live in the fucking first place. Men who partake in human trafficking. I kill men like that.
“And it’s because I personally think cops are fucking useless, and the justice system is fucked. The justice system is so fucked, that it’s ran by the very people that they claim they want to protect us from. Human traffickers could be cops trying to cover up their tracks, for all we fucking know.
“Rapists hardly ever get convicted, and if they do, they get let off lightly.
They only serve a few years at the most. I can’t roll with that shit. They ruin a good man or woman’s life for good. Haunt them for the rest of their damn time over what they put them through. Make them have trust issues and lose faith in people… Just to only serve a few years in 302
jail, yet only around 1.9% of these bastards actually get convicted. I know that if a man ever touched my future daughter against her will, I’d happily go to jail for the rest of my life for murdering and torturing that bastard. It just isn’t fucking right. I can’t stand by and watch innocent people get sexually abused, and do nothing.
“I know I shouldn't take justice into my own hands, but I can't help myself sometimes. A little time after you moved to Manhattan, a few days after I first met you. I heard of some mass murders and rapes that had been going on. I killed somebody around that time.
“I saw a family friend called Hazel, being shoved against the wall by a man called Michael. He was going to force himself on her, and told her that if she didn't comply, she'd have the same fate as her brother Alfonze Michael. Alfonze 303
was a friend of mine, and he meant a lot to me. I treated him like a brother. So I shot Michael, because of how fucking furious I was. So fucking furious that the man was involved with the murder of Alfonze.
“I've been trying and trying to get to the bottom of the chain reaction of events, to find the man who's been sending all the other men, like the Michael guy, to rape and torture all of these men and women. I've managed to kill a few of the guys involved, but I haven't actually managed to find the man who's sending them.
“And I've been beating myself up about it. Beating myself up that I can't find the man who ordered the hit on the nineteen year old boy I treated as a brother. Alfonze fucking Michael.”
Donte took his head into his hands, 304
rocking
himself
backwards
and
forwards, as he did his best to remain calm and composed. I could feel my eyes well with tears as he continued to allow his walls to break down, exposing every secret of his to me, allowing me to see the raw and real version of him. The version of him with flaws and imperfections…
Yet his heart was still in the right place.
“That's my two cents on my involvement in the Mafia,” Donte breathed exhaustedly. “And to stop a war from breaking out, I allow my relatives to launder a bit of their money through Indigo Limited. I know it's wrong of me.
But we've gotta keep them sweet, to keep ourselves safe as a family.”
He let out another sigh.
“I'm sorry I kept such a massive thing a secret from you, baby girl. I just didn't want you to be ashamed of me. I 305
didn’t want you to think that I was a fucking
monster.
A
stone-cold
murdering bastard. I didn’t want you to be reminded of the monsters from your own past.”
I pressed my finger to his lips, shushing him as I pulled him close, and tears continued to fall down my cheeks.
Even after everything he told me, he still had such little faith in himself, and it broke my fucking heart. He was a phenomenal man, and it tore me apart how little faith he had in himself.
“How dare you think that I could be ashamed of you?” I whispered.
“You're a phenomenal man, Donte.
You've got a heart of gold. You might have come from bad beginnings, but you've built yourself into a strong individual.
“You've done nothing wrong.
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You're fucking perfect. People have got it so wrong about you...
“You're not a criminal. Everything you do is for the right reasons. Because you care about others. And you’re right.
It’s cops that are the real fucking criminals. It’s cops that fail to serve justice properly. It’s cops that can’t do their own fucking job properly, and bring people to justice after they’ve had their lives torn apart.
“Your heart's in the right place.
“I love you with all of my heart, baby.”
I pulled his mouth down on mine, giving him a soft kiss. A kiss that only soulmates fucking shared.
Letting him know how proud I was of him.
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Letting him know how happy I was to be able to call him mine.
And he never had any reason to doubt himself again.
“I'm
glad
you
do,”
Donte
murmured against my mouth. “I'm glad you understand why I've done the things I've done. I'm glad you love me for me.
“And I love all of you, too…”
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36
maya
A few days later
I was walking back to my apartment. I told Donte that it would be good for me to spend some time with Maisie.
After Donte opened up to me like that, and told me all about his past, and 309
all about his REAL involvement in the Mafia…
I was lost for words. My heart was thumping out of my chest.
He trusted me so much, and I didn't even have the decency to tell him the truth about myself.
In this moment...
I fucking hated myself.
I couldn't believe I'd got him so wrong. My boss seemed hell-bent on painting a horrific picture of Donte. That he was a
stone-cold murderer, that he was responsible for the murder and rapes of so many women.
When really, he was the exact opposite.
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He killed rapists.
He killed murderers…
I needed to go home to look at the evidence I'd gathered so far. I needed to find the fucking person behind all of this shit…
Or my mind wouldn't be put at rest.
But I did know one thing, and that was that my boss was a fucking idiot. He must have a personal vendetta against Donte...
He was so hell-bent on putting Donte behind bars.
Not his family, not the Mafia he was born into.
Just Donte.
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And it made no sense to me.
No fucking sense at all.
I walked into the room in my apartment where I had all of my evidence plastered across the wall.
Photographs.
Photographs of everybody who had been murdered, as well as the evidence that I'd collected.
I had evidence that it was Michael that made a shot at Hazel that day, and Donte tried to stop it.
I had evidence from Hazel during interviewing her that day, that Donte and Alfonze were good friends, and there was a load of bullshit lies about Alfonze in his characteristics description that Boss had 312
provided to me.
That Alfonze didn't even have a funeral, because apparently "his body was being held".
I had evidence in the form of a video; the street fight that I'd recorded whilst hiding in the junkyard.
And Donte had explained to me why some of the numbers in his financial statements were off, when I'd taken pictures from Yasmeen's computer room. He was being forced to launder the Mafia’s money so that they would get off his family’s backs and allow them to live a legitimate life.
The first picture was of a black man with brown eyes and black, afro-textured hair, wearing a white vest. The picture was taken at the crime scene. There was a 313
bullet mark in his chest, and his vest was soaked with blood. The blood had pooled around his body.
ALFONZE MICHAEL.
19 years old.
Shot outside of Hunters Lane.
Known to have a crack addiction.
Deceased.
The second picture was of a white woman with platinum blonde hair, porcelain colored skin and bright blue eyes. She was wearing a salmon pink colored maxi length dress, and she had also been killed. Her picture was also taken at the crime scene, and yet again, there was no evidence left behind…
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LILY GRAHAM.
30 years old.
Shot outside of Woodwick Central.
Known to have a cannabis addiction.
Raped and murdered.
The third picture was of a Puerto Rican man, wearing black jeans paired with a black jacket. He had a Tribal tattoo across his chest, and the Crime Scene photos showed horrific images of him laying down next to his sisters, his mother and his father, all of them left to die in their own pool of blood. They’d left a gun in his hand to make it appear that he’d killed his whole family before killing himself, but that was just pure bullshit…
RAYMOND RUIZ.
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32 years old.
Whole family beaten to death and murdered in their own home.
Known to be involved in a turf war.
Known street dealer.
The fourth picture was of a young black child, with scruffy, rugged black hair, and he was wearing a red t-shirt paired with black trousers. The Crime Scene images showed him horrifically lying down in the middle of a street, with a gunshot wound in his chest, and a pool of blood around his body.
TERRY ROBERTS.
10 years old.
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Shot and robbed.
Known to sell drugs in his school.
Deceased.
The fifth picture was of a white woman with bright red hair, freckles and slender blue eyes. Her entire body was covered with purple bruises, and her face had been burnt from acid being poured on her.
RUBY ALLEN.
35 years old.
Beaten and raped.
Known to be in debt.
Deceased.
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The last image was of a white man, who had white bubbles frothing out of his mouth in the photograph. He’d snorted so much cocaine… So much cocaine. I could feel my blood run cold as I read his description.
BRATVA BOULEVARD.
25 years old.
Known debt, overdosed on drugs to take his life to eliminate this debt.
Known to have several mental health conditions.
Deceased.
I walked down a few streets, knowing that I was nearly at Indigo Limited. I stopped to check the time on my phone 318
as I approached an alleyway, and then I felt my heart almost leap out of my chest as I looked up to see what the fuck was happening here.
“What's going on there?!” I denied, holding my face in my hands, mortified.
I saw a woman trapped underneath a man against a wall. She was kicking and screaming at him, begging him to leave her alone. The man was pulling at her clothes aggressively.
“Leave me alone, you bastard!” the woman cried out, clutching her chest in fear as she froze to the spot in terror.
“Now, now, don't take that tone with me, Felicia…” the man murmured.
“You know what'll happen to you if you defy me. The same fate that your brother Alfonze Michael had…”
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The woman Felicia broke into sobs, her tears falling down to the floor as he continued to pull at her clothes. He was going to force himself on her, Rape her…
I had to do something…
I had to step in…
As soon as I was about to take a step towards them, my blood ran cold. I stopped dead in my tracks, as I saw a familiar face approach them…
Donte grabbed hold of the man, pushing him off of her with such a force that he almost toppled backwards.
“Leave her alone, you fucking bastard!” Donte roared.
“You bastard!” the man spat back, 320
hurling himself at Donte, punching him so hard that his jaw swung.
Felicia screamed in fear, a blood-curdling scream.
“Felicia, run!” Donte screamed.
Felicia bolted out of the alleyway, sobbing as she left. Donte turned back to the man, and punched him so hard, he fell to the ground. Donte clambered on top of him, punching him in the face repeatedly, until his face went blue and one of his eyeballs rolled out. The man’s jaw snapped as he coughed out blood, and two of his teeth knocked clean out.
Donte wrapped his hands around the man’s neck, squeezing it as the man pleaded for air, his lungs failing him and collapsing as he struggled to breathe.
Donte let go of the man’s neck, before standing on top of his balls, 321
severing them and causing the man to cry out in pain. And then he took out a gun from his pocket, and shot the man three times in the chest, sucking the life out of him as the blood pooled around his body…
And then he turned on his heel, putting the gun back into his pocket, and began walking away from the man.
We made our way to the computer room, and Yasmeen swiped her access card, before sitting down at a computer. I sat down next to her whilst I waited for her to do what she needed to do. I couldn’t help but to allow my mind to wander.
If Yasmeen worked in the
accounting department…
That meant that she got to see all of the transactions of this place.
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All of the money that went in and out.
Now was my chance to start gathering any evidence that I could present to my boss…
Anything that showed that Indigo Limited was corrupt…
Alongside with nailing down the Mafia.
I drew out a deep breath.
I would need to see if there were any shady transactions…
“Hey Yasmeen?” I smiled.
“Mmhmm?”
she
replied,
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continuing to type away on her computer.
“Is it alright if I use one of these computers to check my emails?” I asked sheepishly.
“Of course, girl.”
I loaded up a computer. Since this was one of the accounting computers, I would be able to get access to the financial statements.
I
loaded
up
the
financial
statements, and scrolled through them, trying to work out any anomalies.
Yes, there were definitely some shady transactions here…
A lot of large sums of money coming in from international and offshore bank accounts.
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My heart hammered against my chest.
I should take pictures of these, I thought to myself. They could be useful later.
I whipped out my phone and began taking pictures of all of the shady numbers, before quickly dusting myself off and putting my phone back in my pocket.
Done.
“This is what I've been given on your brother,” I explained, shrugging. “By my boss.”
I took my phone out of my pocket, and showed her the photograph and description that I’d been provided when 325
I took on this mission.
“Yeah, all of that is true,” Felicia murmured, narrowing her eyes, “except my brother didn't have a crack addiction.”
“Really?” I asked, taken aback. I furrowed my eyebrows. “Why does it say that he does, then?”
“I don't know,” Felicia mumbled exhaustedly. “I know that my brother was involved in some dodgy shit, because he owed some people money.” She broke off her sentence, shaking her head. “But then they shot him.”
Tears began falling down her cheeks. I felt my heart twist into knots as I watched her cry. I couldn’t imagine how she must have been feeling right now. The loss of a loved one would be enough to tip anybody over the edge.
