Mafia Princess

by King, Deja

  “You know my daughter is my heart.”

  “Mines too,” Quasim admitted and sat down, holding Semaj in his arms.

  “Well, you know I only met you a few times, so I never knew too much about you, son.” Quasim nodded, waiting on him to continue. “I was paid by Block to have you murdered and my daughter also.”

  “What?” his eyes bugged wide in alertness as he stood back up. “He paid me a nice amount to have you rocked, my man.” He went on to explain to him in more details on the contract that was out on them, but left out the part about Semaj being requested because of her own personal wrongdoings.

  Quasim was shocked and was at a loss for words.

  “All this because I ain’t wanna put this bitch ass nigga on ‘cause he hot ass fish grease and feds is closing in on him. What part of the game is this? Nigga wanna go to war over some shit as simple as this. It’d feel better if I was battling a turf war… drug war—somethin’ worth a beef!” Quasim said fuming.

  They both could tell he was vexed from the bulging veins in his forehead, and the sweat forming on the bridge of his nose.

  “Nigga really tried to get you to get at me ‘cause I ain’t selling him none of my dope. Nigga mad foolish yo,” he seethed angrily and all he could do was shake his head pissed the fuck off.

  He gazed into Semaj’s eyes intensely feeling guilty for involving her. He knew that he didn’t have a choice now but to inform her on his hidden lifestyle. “I’m so sorry for putting you in this situation,” he said trying to console her as he rubbed her hair soothingly.

  Quasim had no clue that her tears weren’t from what had transpired, but from the demons that she had erased from her memory bank throughout the years but were now coming back to haunt her. The tears were from the betrayal she veiled as his woman. Her breakdown was for all these reasons, and her emotions were spilling right out of her.

  “Whatever he paid, I’ll pay double that. I want you to leave as many casualties as possible on his end. I’ma have you meet up with my mans and them tomorrow.” Quasim paced the room back and forth in frustration. “Shit just got real and after the stunt they pulled today, there’s no turning back!”

  “I feel you” Murder Mitch turned his attention on his daughter. “Do you wanna come home with your old man tonight?”

  Knowing she had to pull herself together, Semaj inhaled heavily and slowly shook her head. “No Daddy…I’ll be fine with Qua.”

  “I understand.”He gave her a look that meant she had to pull it together. “What you gon’ do about this body?” he asked turning to Quasim.

  “Already called my cleanup crew. They on the way.” With that Murder Mitch made an exit and Quasim led Semaj upstairs by the small of her back.

  The tepid water sprayed out of the massager showerhead as it cascaded down Semaj’s body. Lathering herself with soap, she softly washed herself with a sponge as hot tears slipped from her eyes. She wanted so badly to tell him the story about her life up until now, but feared the repercussions. She wasn’t willing to risk his trust by telling him the details of her past. Quasim was the type of nigga that hated sheisty bitches, and had said it during plenty of their discussions. Semaj hadn’t outright lied to Quasim about who she was, but instead lied by omission and there was no turning back now.

  There was no way Semaj could admit to the bad. Even leaving the part about his father out still wouldn’t be a good idea. Believing that she’d weathered the troubled storm of growing up without a mother, and her father being absent from her life for so long made him feel like she was a soldier. He worshipped the ground her feet graced. He praised her for her nobility and overcoming. Not willing to risk his admiration, Semaj would have to carry the burden around that she was responsible for his father’s demise.

  Stepping out of the shower, Semaj grabbed the red towel as she heard the front door close. Quasim had made it to the bedroom once Mike-Mike and the clean-up man left. I can’t believe I’m deceiving someone as good as him, she thought looking over at Quasim. He was on the bed with his hands clasped behind his head staring up at the ceiling as if in deep thought. After slipping into a nightie, Semaj lay down and cuddled up in a fetal position on the opposite side of the bed.

  Leaning over, Quasim wrapped his strong arms around her and his soft lips kissed the back of her neck. It felt so good to have her secured in his arms. She made everything in his world feel right. “I’m really sorry about this mess I involved you in,” Quasim said in a low tone.

  And I’m really sorry about what my father did to your father, Semaj thought, not saying a word as the tears began to flow down her face once again.

  Quasim fought with himself about putting her in such an ominous predicament. He tried so hard to avoid beef, because it always brought unwanted attention and fucked up niggas getting money. But when provoked he didn’t have a choice but to send his gunners to the battlefield. He hated this part of the game, but it was the most important, because it would determine who would end up on top.

  Quasim scooted her close to his chest so that she could feel his presence. Semaj felt his heartbeat in her back as some of her pain eased.

  “You know I never meant for this to come on you,” he began as Semaj listened to him tell his story about getting into the game at a young age. “I always wanted to stay low key and keep a low profile, because the least known you are the longer your run will be in this game. My father on the other hand had been a street nigga since the eighties. He’s the one who taught me the game. But I was different from him. He loved the attention street fame comes with. He was a ladies’ man and an attention seeker. I was a little nigga when I first got my dope plug. “Being so, I jumped in headfirst and put my people on. But

  I was smart about it, and never looked back. I let my old man still hold the front while I played the back. But, I was actually the one supplying the streets. While all the niggas around me wanted to be seen, I used my last name, went unseen, and left that up to them. I was the source, and as long as I stayed relevant in name and irrelevant in flesh, I already knew I’d last a long time in this business. That’s why too many people don’t know that Quasim and Santana is the same nigga on either ends. And if so, you have to be deeply rooted into my life, or a well-connected, muthafucka.”

  Semaj listened to him for about five more minutes and then the room fell quiet.

  “I love you for you…and I don’t wanna lose you for nothing! Please don’t ever leave me, Qua.” Semaj felt compelled to say, breaking the silence.

  “I love you too, ma. I wouldn’t leave you for nothing in the world.”

  “Nothing? You promise?” she asked. “I promise,” he confirmed.

  On her way to the hospital, Semaj couldn’t stop what transpired from the previous night from plaguing her mind. She wasn’t surprised that Quasim was a major drug dealer, but the fact he was the infamous “Santana” had her head messed up. I would’ve never known. How could

  I? She’d heard so many stories about the kingpin. He lived a lifestyle that doughboys only dreamed of. The way he articulated himself didn’t display notorious in Semaj’s mind, but from hearing his name throughout the years, Semaj knew he could have the most powerful man touched. And just to think…this was her man.

  Fear entered her heart at the thought of him finding out. She knew of his power in the streets and had heard of the murders that he had ordered to those who crossed him. Her heart skipped a beat as her phone rang. The chiming jarred her from her frightful thoughts and she answered. “Hello?”

  “Why you ain’t call me? I thought you got out of class at 3:30.” Although Semaj had starred in a major film, she still wanted to perfect her craft and decided to finish the semester out.

  “I was finna call you once I got to the hospital to see my auntie. I’m cool…I got that thang you gave me this morning riding shotgun.” She glanced over at the chrome .25caliber handgun and focused back on the road ahead.

  He laughed. What he didn’t tell her was that he had on
e of his goons following her just to be cautious. He didn’t want to spook her. “Well, I’m finna meet your old man, so just call me when you on your way home. Love you.”

  “Okay, love you too.” Semaj pulled up to the hospital and rushed inside.

  Standing at the entryway, Semaj looked in at Tala’s fragile body. She had IVs inserted in her arms and was hooked up to a machine. The machines were monitoring her condition. Walking to her bedside, Semaj stood watching over her. Her eyes were closed, and though time had moved on Semaj still felt responsible. It was a blessing that she survived the gunshot wound to the head. Though her right side was stiff and her mouth had a slight twist, Tala’s appearance hadn’t changed a bit. The doctors said the bullet was so close to hitting a major nerve that it sent off damage to the nervous system. Her brain had to learn how to send correct signals for her to walk again. It would take time at a recovery center for her to heal fully.

  As if she could feel her presence, Tala opened her eyes and looked over at her niece and though she couldn’t form a smile, her heart fluttered. In the beginning, Semaj had visited her nearly every day but Tala didn’t want this life for her niece. Even during filming, on her break she’d shoot to the hospital to check on her auntie. Semaj would come, sob and continuously apologize for something Tala knew wasn’t her fault. She felt her niece needed to rest and didn’t have to be at the hospital all the time. After begging her to lessen her visits, Semaj did but she would call every day, a couple times throughout the day. Semaj would sit over the phone with her and reminisce about old times for hours. The love she had for her niece was everlasting and the friendship she held onto over the years was important to her and had withstood the bullshit. When Semaj insisted that she stopped using drugs, she wouldn’t listen. So it was her own fault that she was caught slipping when the intruders came in. She never once blamed Semaj and hated that she blamed herself.

  “You alright, Maj?” she asked with a voice that sounded like it no longer belonged to her; it was rough and raspy and almost inaudible.

  Tears instantly started to fall, and Semaj began crying silently. “Stop that crying, Semaj.” Tala was annoyed, and loathed seeing her becoming fragile. “All that crying should be out of you by now,” she said and coughed weakly. “Hell, if anybody should be crying it should be me,” she teased.

  “I know, but something else has happened, Auntie. I’m tainted and not good enough for Quasim.” Semaj recounted the events of the prior night, and explained to her who Quasim’s father was. Tala was in shock as she attentively listened to her niece’s story. “Ta, enough about my drama for a minute. I never asked you about that night you were shot. Did you know D-Boy was going to shoot you?”

  “D-Boy didn’t shoot me, Maj. We got into a huge fight. He couldn’t believe I was fucked up on these drugs. He beat the shit out of me ‘cause he was pissed and he cared. I remember, because I went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror and saw my face fucked up.” She paused momentarily. It was bothering her to talk but she forced herself to continue on. “If D-Boy wanted me dead, he would’ve killed me before leaving. The last thing he said to me was, his son better be here next time he came by, and I better have myself together. He was talking shit about the money, but he was more so ranting on that I let you convince me into some shit and had me doing drugs. I was so angry that he went off on me because I knew he was right. But I didn’t want to admit it, so what did I do—found my stash and started shooting up again. I was so high I kept going in and out of consciousness. It was like I blanked out. So whoever shot me did it after D-Boy left. But I know for a fact it wasn’t him.”

  Semaj stared at her like she had just spoken Chinese, and though she didn’t say it, Semaj knew that Tala was protecting D-Boy. But it was too late for that, and her father was out for his head. “I understand what you saying Ta,” Semaj said. She didn’t want to upset her and brushed the situation off.

  “Can you promise me one thing niece?” “Of course, Tee Tee,” Semaj replied.

  “If anything ever happens to me, could you go on with your life and let Ms. Long get the baby?”

  “Why would I do that, Ta?” She looked at her in confusion. “You took me in, why wouldn’t I take your seed in? That’s stupid and selfish.”

  “Because I didn’t want you to get lost in the system. You’re so young and you need to live your life and accomplish your dreams. Zyden gon’ be more than good with Ms. Long. She has him while I’m here, and is caring for him well. She never could have children, and I don’t want you losing yourself with the responsibility of having to care after my load.”

  “Yeah, I hear you talking, but this dying shit is over. You pulled through,” she said soothingly. “You good and gon’ stay good. Bad bitches don’t die, fam!”

  “I’m just saying, Maj. I learned that a person never knows when they might take their last breath. I’m telling you so you will know this is what I wanted. I don’t want you to feel obligated to take him because

  I took you. Just make sure you stay in my baby’s life and make sure he remembers me for the good.”

  “Of course I’ma do that regardless. That’s my li’l man too, and I’ma make sure he straight and Ms. Long. Even if I’m not they will always be good. He’ll eat before I eat. Believe that.”

  “You gon’ be forever good, Maj. I see something in you that’s rare. You are a star. Always has been. Why you think I sent you to that special high school and kept you in different activities? So don’t be afraid to grab that shit and never let go.”

  “Thank you, and I love you.”

  “I love you too.” Emotions were filling the room making this the most profound conversation that they had ever had. It tore Semaj up inside just knowing that her auntie was suffering for some bullshit. Semaj wiped the tears from her face and in sync the pair burst into laughter.

  “Now get out of here and enjoy life. You finna be in movies and all that shit,” her Brooklyn accent rolled off low but thick. “I need to be getting prepared for my six ‘o clock physical therapy, so I can be up and about too. I go to the recovery center in about three weeks. I’ma be back jumpin’ in no time,” she teased and got back on a serious note. “Keep Quasim by your side. He makes you happy in a way I haven’t seen since Vega. You understand?”

  Semaj nodded her head and replied. “I understand, Tala.”

  Chapter 10

  In the streets jumping ship once a deal was sealed was considered disloyal, but Murder Mitch felt it was either Block or his daughter. His allegiance was with his child, and it didn’t matter that he’d already been paid for the hit. Besides, he didn’t have any loyalty, and anything was game when it came to his murderous mentality. Murder Mitch was a natural born killer and becoming head henchmen for Santana after all the years of being out of work had given him a hard-on. Some niggas loved pussy, some money, some the fame, but Murder Mitch loved to kill.

  Murder Mitch pulled up in the alley behind Kandi hair studios and parked the car. He slipped his fingers inside the black pair of gloves. He knew getting the nigga would be getting to his wife first. He prepared the perfect setup, so that Block would run right into him alone. Block usually traveled with a goon with him, and going to his house would have been suicidal. Bodyguards usually surrounded the premise for protection and this way was his only option.

  There was no personal beef he had with Kandi. She was just guilty by association. Murder Mitch had waited on her to come out to the wolves all day. He had gotten elated when her cranberry-hued Lex finally turned out of the gated-community. He tailed behind her with caution.

  Kandi was headed to her beauty salon to collect the weekly booth rent and was oblivious that she was being followed into the inner city. It was 8:30 p.m. when she coasted up to the empty parking lot. With Kandi being on her cell for the duration of the ride made her careless and she wasn’t alert to her surroundings.

  When the flawless dark skinned beauty climbed out the vehicle, Murder Mitch noticed the pistol print i
n the small of her back. Though she appeared feminine in a cream-colored Armani pantsuit, he knew that she was gangsta. Ol’ Block got ‘im a classy and thoroughbred bitch, Murder Mitch thought as he meticulously watched every move Kandi made. She was setting up a meeting with a potential supplier, and was deep in conversation. She failed to notice the silhouette that had slipped behind the garbage device. Murder Mitch had hid behind the vast dumpster and waited for her to return.

  Murder Mitch scanned the area. He tried to figure out how many people were around and possibly inside. His intention was to sneak up on her when she emerged, but instincts pulled him toward the car. Unfortunately for Kandi, she had been so preoccupied on her phone call that she failed to lock her car door, practically welcoming Murder Mitch to hide inside her ride.

  After about twenty minutes, Kandi emerged with the apparent shop manager who jumped into the vehicle that awaited her in the front of the hair shop. Walking towards her car, Kandi hopped inside, having no clue that her life was on countdown until she felt the cold steel pressed against her head. “Who sent you?” she asked calmly.

  “If you do exactly what I say I’ll let you live. Put your hands on the steering wheel.” She obliged and he told her, “Call Block.”

  “Nigga, you think I’m finna call my husband so you can murder him! You gotta be one dumb muthafucka if you did. Nigga gotta have a death—”

  “Bitch, I ain’t got time for the rah-rah bullshit. Either you call that nigga up or I leave your fucking brains splattered.”