by King, Deja
“Pow! Pow! Pow!”
They returned fire.
“Boom! Boom! Boom!”
Bullets crashed the windows of the car Semaj was ducked behind, sending glass flying everywhere. She reached over the car’s hood and shot back, holding her own as they went against Ox’s hoodlums. Hospital employees, patients and visitors scattered in a frenzy trying not to be the ones caught by stray bullets.
“Click-Click!”
The audible indication that she was out of ammunition caused Semaj to scramble to run behind the Corinthian-style column as she realized her clip had quickly emptied, but the gun battle continued in full force. Fuck! she thought defenselessly. Crouched low, she ran while bullets flew around her head as she inched as quickly as possible to shield herself behind a concrete wall.
Meanwhile, Emilia had traded shots with the Jamaicans and managed to keep them off long enough for her sisters to come and assist. She yelled, “Buquf! Y’all wanna get ratchet?” and continued to let her weapon spew. “Learn how to shoot first, mu’fuckas!”
The Milano Hitters had a marksman’s aim, and due to the reckless shots that the Jamaicans sent gave Emilia and her sisters a
slight advantage.
“Kill all these muthafuckas!” Sosa shouted mercilessly as she stood next to her younger sibling, Marcela. Both with a “street sweepers” in their hands, bullets flew loosely, killing everyone in plain sight.
These mu’fuckas must ain’t checked our background, Emilia thought, her facial expression in a furious scowl.
Fearlessly, the Milano Hitters blasted off on the incompetent hired guns that had been sent by the infamous Ox. It was obvious that he was out for blood and her family was the target, but Emilia knew her trigger-happy knack was flawless, and Ox’s hooligans couldn’t match her body count alone; not to mention their numbers tallied together. Make sure to send these bumbaclot pussies back in a fuckin body bag!
The four female siblings were magnificent when it came to gunplay. As Emilio’s daughters, the girls had been taught by the very best, and popped off nothing but deadly headshots as the hot lead penetrated skulls, causing brain matter and mucus to spill gorily from nearly half of the dreadlocked heads.
“Arghhhh!” LuLu, the baby sister shouted piercingly as she handled her weapon skillfully and relentlessly like a madwoman. Enraged, LuLu blazed off and the Jamaican bodies fell like dominoes.
Although by now the rest of the Dominican crew had come to their defense, the Milano Hitters had their murder game looking like artwork as they painted the city streets red. In the beginning, they were outnumbered in bodies, but with a sharpshooter’s ability, the female gunners were more than their equal, and had drastically slashed the Jamaican men’s number down by more than half.
“This ain’t what y’all want!” She was so ill with an AK that you would have thought she had invented it, and one would have never known that she reloaded her weapon. LuLu fired a trail of shots while boldly moving toward the Jamaicans, who were now backpedaling and trying to make it to their waiting transportation.
The rapid spray of endless bullets was more than the men left standing could handle, and they backed down.
“We kills cha e’notha time!” a thickly accented dread roared.
Semaj heard one of the Jamaican gunmen’s threat as her ears rang deafeningly from the loudness of gunfire piercing their surrounding like it was the Fourth of July. Her damp hair hit her in the face as she spun her head quickly and peeked around the granite-stoned pillar. Her mouth fell open in horror as she saw an onslaught of bullets fill LuLu’s chest, leaving her body violently jerking from left to right as her gun continued to rain bullets while hitting the ground. The three remaining Jamaicans hurriedly hopped into their vans and peeled off, leaving a cloud of smoke behind from the burning tires.
Semaj saw her cousin’s body drop to the ground, and the bullets left LuLu lying motionless in the middle of the hospital’s front entrance.
The entire scene was of complete carnage with dead bodies littered all across the pavement. It was something like no other. The innocent were dead at the hands of “street violence” that had showed up unexpectedly to the location. More than a thousand shell casings were scattered over the street, and the Dominican Mafia and the Jamaican gang were the cause of the gunfire melee.
“LuLu!” Semaj screamed at the top of her lungs. Her eyes began to water and she shook uncontrollably as she ran full speed to her cousin’s side.
Emilia was on bended knee, rocking her sister’s bullet-riddled body back and forth as she held her with silent tears flowing from her eyes. Her worst fear had surfaced, and her head fell low as she stared into LuLu’s weakening gaze. Blood was spilling from her neck and her body had been struck still. “Please, Lu… you gotta… gotta get up, ma! C’mon!” Emilia yelled, and looked back at Semaj for help. “We gotta get her into this hospital. Help me please!” she pleaded in desperation and panic as she tried lifting the deadweight.
Gio looked around at the bloodbath that he and his family had contributed to. People lay dead everywhere; it resembled a battlefield after combat. He heard sirens in the distance and knew the sounds were coming from a procession of patrol cars and ambulances to assist with the aftermath of the early morning slaughter.
Two of the Hummer trucks pulled up directly in front of them and the doors immediately flung open.
“We’ve got to get the fuck from here,” Gio stated as he grabbed Semaj by the arm and they slid into the truck. “ Obtener el mi la familia!” He ordered his henchmen in Spanish to get LuLu into the other Hummer. “Come on, Emilia, let’s go before the police show up. And, I need you to get someone on the line that can pull the hospital’s surveillance tapes before authorities arrive on scene.”
Emilia conceded and released her sister from her embrace after she kissed her forehead and then hopped into the Hummer beside Semaj as a frown of pain crossed her face while speed-dialing numbers.
The Jamaicans had shown the ultimate sign that they were declaring a war, and they were stopping at nothing. Two ruthless incidents within hours from each other weren’t coincidental, and at that very moment Semaj realized that she was literally married to the mob. She closed her eyes and cried silently as she thought about all the things that had been done to bring her to this point.
Chapter 1
Six Months Ago
It was a cloudless, balmy Sunday afternoon and the temperate conditions were just right for the ceremonial christening for baby Niran, Semaj and Vega’s sole child. Semaj’s grandfather invited the family and their greatest criminal-minded organization’s chiefs from all regions of the country to come celebrate the naming of his first great grandson at St. Patrick’s Cathedral.
Semaj and Vega stood at the altar of the Catholic Church, her baby boy in her delicate arms as she held him over the baptismal font. Tears of joy slipped down her cheeks as she looked down at her son. She watched in silence as the priest anointed Niran on the crown of his head with sacred chrism. Elation filled her, and it seemed as if her very own sins had been washed away with the holy oil pouring down her little man’s head. She had committed the unforgivable to most, but for some reason she felt that her son was her forgiveness for every sin and penalty living in her. Now, her days of destruction were in her rearview mirror, and when her grandfather stepped up, she was certain that she had been purged of all the evil she’d once known. Gio was her protector, and there was nothing for her to worry about.
Semaj had no idea that she would soon step into a world that transcended the ‘hood life; a way of life that would forever change her.
The sanctuary was packed, and the purity of the occasion lent an ambiance of sheer happiness for the newest edition of the Milano family. Semaj was aware that she was amongst a congregation of the righteous and saved, but also knew that real gangsters and true soldiers surrounded her.
She glanced over at her grandfather, who was positioned at her right side. He winked at her and flashed
a supportive smile. Although he was always a serious man, he delighted in surprising many with his affection for his only weakness—his granddaughter. Semaj returned the gesture graciously, and it still amazed her how one man could always make her blush. It was a natural instinct, because even though Gio missed so many years of her life, she was his pride and joy, and he treated Semaj like a princess and doted on her. She loved him dearly, and although she never knew of a man’s adoration and protection stronger than her deceased father’s, Gio’s security was equal.
She stared into her Uncle Paulie’s eyes, and everything about him reminded her that he was her mother’s twin brother. From his unblemished skin tone, striking features and confidence in his bossed-up swagger and conversation, Semaj knew that from the small remembrance to her mother, that he too was one that would get the job done.
Gio hadn’t touched drugs in what seemed like forever, but the Milano family’s lucrative drug cartel was one of the few good ones left standing stateside, and it was obvious that Paulie was his father’s successor.
She shifted her gaze and looked at Gio’s only nephew, who he considered his own son and called him as such. Semaj loved how her uncle was respected in the streets and was feared by most. Unlike Paulie and many others, Bonjo was a real street nigga, and while the family business was a wholesale market, Bonjo set up shop on corners and in dope houses. He kept it all the way ‘hood, and sold it whichever way one preferred. He had buyers and workers, and the Mafioso members knew he’d gotten his “grinding to get it all” mentality from his African American heritage. He was ratchet, business and street savvy, but most of all, Semaj admired the bond he had with his wife. Something told her that his wife, Jah-Jah was the Bonnie to his Clyde.
Semaj looked out at the front pew reserved for immediate family only. Her cousins were full-blooded Dominicans, and to the average person the four girls were undeniable beauties and supporting their family, but inside their fashionable belted, short- sleeved Donna Karan trench coats was the only supportability that mattered to them—long guns and plenty ammunition. Their natural almond skin glowed, and their different colored catlike eyes made some men make fatal mistakes. Although they were whole sisters, they each carried a distinct feature about themselves.
But the one thing all of them had in common was their murderous ability. It was in their blood to be killers. Throughout the eighties and nineties their father, Emilio Milano ran one of the most notorious gangs of contract killers and career robbers that the streets had ever seen. His daughters had been murderers for hire in the making. After their father received two consecutive life sentences, with small feet, they had filled the big shoes of the legendary mobster and were leaving huge footprints on the game. Although they were gorgeous women, they were also stone-cold killers, and it was a known fact that between the four of them, their body count was in the triple digits. They were “mob bitches” by all means.
Semaj lifted her baby from the font and handed him to Paulie, who accepted the role as godfather. He had her son dressed to the nines in a pure white, luxurious silk Dupioni christening suit.
The celebrant grabbed the Paschal candle and said, “Receive the light of Christ.”
Vega flickered on the Caran d’Ache lighter and lit the candle, and an orange flaming glow emitted. The expensive 14-kt gold lighter was given to him by Gio. Every man in the Family had one. It was a token of family loyalty.
The high priest then added, “Parents and godparents, this light is entrusted to you to be kept burning brightly. This child of yours has been enlightened by Christ. He is to walk always as a child of the light. May he keep the flame of faith alive in his heart. When the Lord comes, may he go out to meet him with all the saints in the heavenly kingdom.”
The words touched Semaj’s heart, and as the Lord’s Prayer began, her mind drifted back to the day that her world had been blessed by her family’s presence and the day she knew that Niran would never have to commit the sins of the Family or take risks as she once had before she knew she was a Milano heir—they were all living so that the next generation would be able to live in a lawful world and enjoy their inheritance without fear.
Three Months Earlier
“Everyone, I want you to meet my granddaughter, Semaj and her significant other, Vega. Semaj, I don’t know if you remember, but this is your mother’s twin, Paulie Milano. Then this goodfella here,” Gio chuckled, “Is my sister’s son, Bonjo, and this beautiful lady right here is his wife, Jah-Jah. Then, these lovely young women are my nieces, Emilia, Sosa, Marcela and LuLu. We call them the ‘Milano Hitters’. These are my ‘problem solvers’. If you have any problems, let them know and they’d make the issue disappear. These are the immediate family members up here in the States. Everybody here is trustworthy and loyal and everyone else is questionable. And remember, anyone that is a doubt we don’t trust.”
Everyone greeted Semaj endearingly and welcomed Vega into the Family because of her.
“Paulie, she looks just like you and Kasey. It’s uncanny, fam,” Bonjo said, remembering Semaj’s late mother.
From his street clothes, Semaj could tell that he was a straight ‘hood nigga, and through his gaze she could read savage, but yet calculating and took an instant liking to him. Beyond the expensive Chanel threads, Semaj knew that his wifey was cold and cunning. From one thorough bitch to another, Semaj had peeped her whole swag. For the Milano Hitters, she knew what was understood didn’t need to be explained.
“Let’s eat,” Gio said as he took his seat at the head of the rectangular dining table. Semaj sat directly across from him at the other end.
For the first time since she was a little girl, Semaj felt whole because she had a complete family. a family that she could count on, and she fell in love with the concept. Their interactions were so natural that they appeared as an old traditional family. They popped bottles of vintage wine and ate good as they all got to know her, and before they realized it, hours had gone by.
The amazing joy Semaj felt right now in the present made her begin to reflect on her past. She excused herself from the table, as she needed a moment alone to work through the feelings that had suddenly overcome her. She headed out of the twelve-foot French doors and walked out onto the balcony. “This is beautiful,” She said as she looked out into the perfect night. The rain had stopped and a full moon had bloomed. In silence, she stood and stared into the glittering stars. The sky was lit up and the cold wintry draft caused her to wrap her arms around herself.
She closed her eyes, and her tears began to fall. Her mind had granted her memories of her past, but there was one that stuck out; Quasim. As hard as she tried blocking him out, she couldn’t. His presence was always felt and she had never let go. not completely. She rocked hard with Vega no doubt, but although she hated to admit it, Quasim had been her rock. He taught her how to survive in a different light, but as each day passed, she noticed the light dimming even more. Dreams of yesterday seemed to be dreams that weren’t even in the cards for today. Too much had happened, and Semaj felt like her tomorrow was just as bleak.
Quasim was a constant reminder of her past life. What she was, who she was becoming, what she could have been, and in a blink of an eye it had all been taken away from her. He had been taken away from her. Not knowing if he would’ve forgiven her haunted her every day. She relived the last moments she had with him, which was brutal, but that didn’t matter to her. All that mattered was their last phone call. It ended with him giving her hope. He was a real nigga, she thought guiltily, still hating herself for deceiving him. I just wish I could have at least told him one last time that I was sorry.
Semaj was lost in her thoughts as her grandfather stood behind her and kneaded her tensed shoulders. This was a ritual that he’d always done when his daughter was younger, and every Friday he had decided that this would be one of the ways he bonded with his granddaughter. He had to make up for lost times. “What are you crying for, Semaj?” he asked as he began to rub her hair.
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br /> She reopened her eyes, and it was unfathomable how he heard her silent cry, “I’m just thinking about a lot of things. Nothing really.”
What she didn’t know was that Gio already knew her reason. “Semaj, you remind me so much of your mother. But know that just like I could read everything about her, I know how to read you like an open book, too.” He turned her around to face him. “I know you miss, Quasim. He was a man of great honor, but I must tell you that I’m glad I was not the one that had to kill him.”
“But how did you know?” she gasped as her brow rose in astonishment.
Gio laughed lightly, because it was always the same response he received from her mother. “I know everything that goes on with my favorite girl,” he winked matter-of-factly. “I was going to wait, but since we have some alone time, there is something I need to speak to you about.”
“What is it?” she asked.
“I know Vega is your boyfriend, but it is a part of our family’s tradition that when our women bear a child, the mother and father must be wed in holy matrimony. So, I need for you to get your head together. You and Quasim wouldn’t have ever made it. Fate forced y’all apart before the two of you met, Maj. I recognized that the both of you loved each other the night of your birthday at my yacht, because he was about to give up the game for you; something he said he’d never do. But sometimes things are left better as is,” he said, and kissed her on the cheek and walked back inside.
He turned around at the door and smoothly put his hands in his gray Burberry London slacks. “You all will get married, and two weeks later, Niran will be baptized,” he said with dominance in his voice, but in actuality, Semaj knew that this was the softer side of her grandfather. He saluted her and left her to her own thoughts.
