Mafioso

by Nisa Santiago

  Layla chuckled at the proposal. “Bitch, you think I’m a fuckin’ fool? You wanna play games wit’ me, little girl? I’ll take away your livelihood.”

  “How? You don’t have any clout in here and no access to any funds. I met with Angel in Miami, and we negotiated a new deal. He’s mine now. Checkmate, bitch.”

  “Angel would never get in bed with you!”

  Lucky chuckled. “You don’t know how naive you sound right now.”

  “Fuck you, you fuckin’ cunt! Don’t underestimate me, bitch!” Layla retorted.

  “Then don’t underestimate me! You better recognize who has the upper hand.” The torch had been stolen, and now she was the one carrying the flame.

  Layla paused and reexamined her position. She needed her daughter’s help, so she called for a truce. “Okay, look. I didn’t mean to get so upset with you. I apologize for getting heated. It’s just that I’m scared, Lucky. Despite what you’ve heard on the streets, this isn’t Club Fed. I’m surrounded by a bunch of phony, stink bitches. It’s cold in here and the food is lousy. I just want out.”

  “And I want you out too.”

  “I’m glad you said that. Because my attorney said that you might be able to help me do just that.”

  Lucky was perplexed but replied, “Sure. Anything I can do, I will.”

  “It’s not complicated. First you need to immediately stop doing business with Angel just like I ordered. Second, we need to put you up on the stand and convince a jury that you’re the female West who’s into racketeering and helping to run a corrupt drug organization. We need to give them reasonable doubt.”

  “Say what now?”

  “We need to make you a part of my defense. You shouldn’t have a problem with credibility because you are a part of our organization. You’re just not me—the head bitch in charge, but after listening to you today you obviously wanna be. So get your ass up on that stand and help your mother get found not—”

  “Are you crazy?”

  “Not yet, but I will be soon if I stay in here!”

  Lucky immediately felt nauseous. A rush of emotions overwhelmed her and she had to blink repeatedly to stop the tears from flowing. She refused to cry in front of anyone. She clasped her clammy hands together to stop them from shaking and momentarily averted eye contact with her mother. How could Layla ask her such a thing?

  “You just asked me to get up on the stand and implicate myself in a fed case for you? You know how those people play, Ma. Sealed indictments, snitches, and phone taps would be in my future if I placed myself on their radar. Whether you got acquitted or not, that act alone would ensure that my life as I know it would be over. The feds would make it so that the air I breathed was shallow until they got a conviction on me.”

  “You’re jumping too far ahead in the story, Lucky.”

  “One question. Are you willing to gamble my today for your tomorrow?”

  Layla gritted her teeth out of frustration. She wasn’t used to begging or being in a position where she had to explain herself. But she did. “There’s no one else that I can trust to get up on the stand and say the right things, convincingly. And it’s too risky involving strangers in our world, exposing them to family secrets. This has to be done in-house. I wouldn’t come to you if I had a choice.”

  “You have a choice. And you chose you!”

  “I’m your mother!”

  “Not anymore!”

  “Oh, stop being a gotdamn drama queen. You know I’d always protect you.”

  “Just like you protected Bonnie, Clyde, and Gotti?”

  “Bitch don’t ever bring my kids into this bullshit.”

  Lucky stood up, an indication to the guards that she was ready to go. “I’m going to make you regret this day for the rest of your miserable life!”

  “Don’t you ever fuckin’ threaten me, Lucky West! I brought you into this world and I’ll take you out! You hear me! You fuckin’ hear me, bitch!”

  Layla yelled and ranted, creating a scene for everyone to see. She gave her daughter an earful of threatening words while she could only watch Lucky walk out of the room and, perhaps, out of her life for good.

  24

  Lucky walked into the hospital room and smiled at her brother. She was thrilled to see Meyer awake and recovering from his wounds. She kissed him on the cheek and said, “I brought you some soup.”

  He managed to smile back. It was good seeing her. He took in her appearance and sensed that there was something different about her. She stood in front of him dressed in her black mink coat, diamonds, and pricey heels. She had this aura and maturity about her that said—Boss!

  “You look good, sis,” he said.

  “Thanks. I’m feeling good,” she replied.

  She helped Meyer raise his bed up to eat the soup. Lucky looked at him and could see he’d lost weight. His face was thin and his body looked frail. It was her brother, but then again, it wasn’t. His mannerisms were a lot feebler. She needed that monster back. He was critical in the streets, and Lucky knew that without him, things were going to be harder for her.

  “I need you, Meyer. I need you to get well and get back on this grind wit’ me. A lot of things done changed.”

  He nodded. “I’m here, sis.”

  “I know you are.”

  She helped him eat his soup. They had the hospital room to themselves, but Lucky knew she had to be careful with what she said and when she said it. But she needed to pull her brother’s coat to what was going on. She stood up from the chair next to his bed and closed the room door. She had one of her men posted outside the room for security. She put her iPhone’s music on shuffle, sat back down next to his bed, and looked at him.

  “I’m working with Angel now,” she started. “I flew down to Miami a few weeks ago, and we had a lengthy meeting that went very well.”

  Meyer was listening. She had his undivided attention.

  She continued with, “I had to do something, Meyer. Layla wanted to discontinue her business with him, and that would have left us with nothing. She doesn’t care about us. Her main concern is getting herself out of jail. The feds froze her accounts, and we had no product to put out on the streets.”

  Meyer wasn’t shocked by the news. “It’s always been about her.”

  “That’s not even the craziest part. She basically asked me to take the heat off of her by getting on the stand and suggesting that I was the real queen pin—not her—to establish reasonable doubt.”

  Meyer whistled. It was unbelievable, even for his mother. “You serious?”

  “Like a shot to the dome. You can’t make this shit up!”

  “She’s always been a selfish bitch, though. And you know I love her more than my strippers and limited edition kicks, but this right here? I dunno. It’s foul.”

  “Yup. And you know I can be a crybaby sometimes, but when I left MCC all I felt was rage and revenge. Like fuck Layla for real. She wanna do this to me? Her kid? After I rode hard for her over what Daddy did to her—even had her back after what she made you do to Bugsy! You and I have always held her down, and when the heat came around her corner she offered me up as a sacrificial lamb.”

  “I’ma curse her ass out when I speak to her.”

  “Nah, don’t even. I can handle her. I need to handle her on my own. Besides, don’t talk over those phones. I don’t want my name circulating through any phone taps.”

  Meyer nodded. “I gotchu, sis.”

  “Yeah, that visit with her is why I made the Angel deal,” she lied. “To protect us from her bullshit. We need our own money.”

  “I understand your position with Angel. You had to do what you had to do . . . but I don’t feel comfortable with you having to deal wit’ him, and alone. I’m not there to protect you right now. And I don’t trust him.”

  “I can take care of myself, Meyer.�
�

  “I don’t doubt that, but the cartel ain’t nuthin’ to fuck with,” he said.

  Lucky knew firsthand how dangerous they could be. She flashed back to that night they made her kill her three men in cold blood—and an innocent family man.

  “I need to tell you something else,” she said.

  Meyer was staring at her intently, ready to hear what was about to spew from her mouth. “What is it?”

  “I fucked him,” she blurted out.

  “Fucked who?” He was clueless for a split-second, and then it dawned on him. “No . . . get the fuck outta here! What the fuck were you thinking?”

  “It just happened,” she said.

  “He didn’t rape you, right?” Meyer asked with a hint of anger in his voice.

  “No, he didn’t. He came by my hotel room and it just happened.”

  Meyer couldn’t see the attraction. Why would she fuck him? He felt that Angel was too effeminate for his sister with his soft hair and pale skin. He wasn’t Lucky’s type. Did he take advantage of her, or did his sister think throwing her pussy at Angel would put her in his good graces?

  “Wow, a nigga’s in a coma and wakes up to all kinds of surprises,” he said. “You actually fucked that Mexican? Hey, don’t think that your pussy is gonna spare you if shit goes wrong with him. Don’t trust him, Lucky. I don’t.”

  Lucky nodded.

  25

  Bugsy stepped into the jail visitation room with a strong stride and was assigned to a table near the back. The place was mostly jumbled with elderly women visiting daughters or granddaughters and children tagging along to see mothers, sisters, or cousins. He tuned out the chatter and glanced at the signs posted throughout the room. Some warned that it was a drug-free institution and lawbreakers would be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. Another sign warned of littering—anyone who litters shall be denied visitation privileges. Smoking, eating, and drinking were prohibited in the visitation lobby. So many restrictions, so many rules. He laughed lightly at them.

  Before long, Layla and another female inmate were escorted in by a clean-cut male guard. The look on Layla’s face indicated that she wasn’t too happy to see him.

  She sat across from him and spat, “That bitch is still alive, right?”

  He didn’t kill Maxine, and he didn’t want to hear her fuss about it. “We’re not gonna start with that today. I didn’t come here to hear you gripe about her.”

  Layla didn’t argue with him. She didn’t want him to leave. She didn’t want him to abandon her too. So many things were going wrong in her life. At night, all alone in her cell, she would cry and cry. But in public, she personified her bad girl, gangster bitch image.

  The conversation shifted to Lucky. “Your sister is a bitch. She’s treating me unfairly and fuckin’ with my finances.”

  “What’s going on?” he said.

  Bugsy was listening, although he had places to be and there were other things to talk about. He sat there and allowed Layla to grumble about her issues with Lucky.

  “She’s out to destroy me,” said Layla. “She cancelled the two-year lease on my Manhattan suite and collected the prorated funds without my permission. And I have no idea where the money went,” she said.

  “How did she do that?” he asked.

  “A foolish mistake on my end. I gave that little bitch power of attorney on my behalf when I branched off from your father and started my Boss Bitch corporation. I thought she could be trusted.”

  Bugsy chuckled at the lunacy of his mother’s decision. It was petty shit between two women, but he continued to listen.

  “She’s getting rid of all my personal belongings—jewelry, clothing, and shoes, everything—without my permission. She’s leaving me with nothing! She’s acting like I’ve already been tried and convicted and sentenced to life.”

  Bugsy shook his head. “I’ll talk to her.”

  Lucky was doing some foul shit, but why? Something was going on, and he was in the dark.

  “I want you to break her fuckin’ neck for me,” Layla said angrily.

  “Now you know I can’t do that. She’s my sister.”

  “And she’s my daughter, and look how she’s treating me. I’m telling you, Lucky can’t be trusted.”

  “Whatever issues you two got going on, y’all need to work it out. But like I said, I’ll talk to her,” he replied.

  He had issues of his own, and the last thing he needed was to get caught up in their situation—girl shit, he felt.

  “Well, before you get all dismissive and preachy with that ‘sister’ shit, let me pull your coat to this. And this is some serious shit, Bugsy, so that’s why I’m coming to you. I need your help convincing my hardheaded child. I swear she’s just like your father.”

  Bugsy exhaled. “What’s up?”

  “My attorney said that with an informant things are complicated. He’s working on a defense, but with your father tied to my case, his shady drug past could spill over into my pristine record.”

  Bugsy gave his mother his full attention. “What you need me to do?”

  “We need to create reasonable doubt. So, at the advice of my attorney, I asked your sister to testify on my behalf.”

  “Oh, like a character witness? And she has a problem with that? Don’t worry, I’ll speak—”

  “Not like that, damn. And, I thought you were the smart one. He needs Lucky—and this was his strategy, not mine—to get up on the stand and give the jury an impression that she was really the person making all the illegal moves while I was at home raising my kids.”

  If Bugsy were a crying man, he would have cried for his sister. How could a parent even entertain such an asinine idea? He could only imagine how hurt Lucky was hearing this selfish proposition. He knew she looked up to Layla just as he looked up to Scott.

  “Are you fucking insane? She’s your daughter, not some underling!”

  “Ain’t shit gonna happen to her ass! It’s just a ruse!”

  “She’s a fucking kid!”

  Layla smirked. “Lucky? She came out my pussy wearing heels and lipstick. She can handle a few questions on the stand. I mean, if she can’t, she’s in the wrong business.”

  “I could say the same for you.” Bugsy shook his head in disgust. “This is Maxine all over again. Anyone can do the jail time just as long as it’s not you.”

  Bugsy got up. He couldn’t leave fast enough. He exited the jail and was greeted by his men lingering around the Escalade. Bugsy climbed into the backseat and said, “Get me the fuck out of here. I hate this place.”

  His lieutenant, Choppa, looked at him with something important to tell him. “What the fuck you gotta say to me, Choppa?”

  “I got word from Miami. They found the body of Javier Garcia’s nephew. He was shot in the head,” Choppa said.

  Bugsy was stunned by the news. “What the fuck! They know who did it?”

  “Nah, but shit is about to get heavy. His nephew was a civilian—a family man with kids.”

  “Garcia reached out to us yet?”

  “Nah, no word.”

  Bugsy sighed and threw his head back against the headrest. Who would be bold or stupid enough to assassinate one of Javier Garcia’s family members? Was it an act of war, or just a random killing by a walking dead fool?

  “This fucking day keeps getting better and better,” Bugsy said. “Just take me the fuck home. I’m tired.”

  26

  Spring was almost in the air in New York City. Many were praying for an early spring, ready to climb back from life from the ice, cold, and snow. But it was early March, and there were going to be few more cold days and snow in the forecast.

  Although it had been a bleak winter for many, it had proven a profitable winter for Lucky. She reigned over her mother’s empire, and business with Angel was thriving. She w
as moving so much weight into the city, that some were calling her Snow White. She had reinvested her profit and taken fewer kilos on consignment. It would take a couple more flips before she wouldn’t need consignment at all, but Lucky felt like she was moving in a good direction.

  But there were always distractions.

  It was a sunny Monday morning, and Lucky couldn’t get any sleep. She constantly felt a rumbling and steady vibration in her stomach. It felt like her tummy was on a rollercoaster ride. She hurriedly removed herself from the bed and ran barefoot into the bathroom. She dropped to her knees and floated her face over the toilet and immediately hurled chunks. She was sick. Was it the flu? Or was it something worse? She feared the worst.

  After cleaning herself up and downing a bottle of water, Lucky got dressed and headed to the nearest pharmacy and purchased several pregnancy tests. She went home and took all of tests in the privacy of her bathroom. Time seemed to crawl by as she sat on the toilet waiting for the results.

  “Oh shit, I’m pregnant.” They were all positive, and it was Angel’s baby. She had brought more than a drug deal back with her from Miami.

  She calculated the time since her one night stand with Angel, and it’d been seven weeks. She was carrying Angel Morales’s baby inside of her. Angel Morales, head of the Juarez cartel. Being pregnant by him probably brought advantages. The brilliant idea grew inside her head of how powerful she could be if she became his wife. She, Lucky West, married to one of the most powerful men of the underworld. That’s what it was about—power and money! Lucky wanted to climb to the top and be more successful than her mother ever was. She wanted to become that queen bitch everywhere—an international shot caller.

  She stood up and went to look at herself in the mirror. Still young and vibrant, now pregnant. She lifted her shirt and examined her stomach. She had a baby growing inside of her. She thought of Whistler and how she’d once thought she would someday have his baby.

  Lucky placed her hand on her stomach and took a deep breath. Her estranged parents were going to become grandparents—their first grandchild. She wondered what their reaction would be once they heard the news from her brothers, because she wasn’t fucking with either one of them. Especially that heartless bitch Layla.