Mafia Princess part 2 (Married To The Mob)

by King, Deja

LuLu looked at Semaj with contempt. “Semaj, he has a lot of reasons. Fuck you mean? We was just telling you the dude on some trying to up his status bullshit. And now all of a sudden he supposedly gets shot by the Jamaicans that we’ve been feuding with for years. Ain’t nobody at this table green to this shit, but you. We all know if it was Ox’s men, trust, we wouldn’t be having this meeting right now. We’ll be planning your memorial instead.”

  “No.” Semaj denied the accusation vehemently. “It was them and I know it. I was fucking there, LuLu!” she heatedly argued.

  “It does not matter if God was there, Semaj! Think like us for a change and get out of the simple mindset. You’re acting real naive. Dude wants to be you. He wants to be in your spot and you allowing him to ease his way all in, Semaj!

  “Starting with you allowing him to make decisions for you. And you really let him go on that trip with you. Vega is taking advantage of the fact that you have the power to change the rules and he’s willing to do whatever necessary to make it benefit him, Semaj. I say he working for them dreads or he got some Jamaicans on his team; you choose one. But whichever it is doesn’t really matter to me because he’s a dead man walking, either way. I’ma body that man.”

  Silence filled the room as Semaj debated with herself in her mind. She wanted to take up for Vega. She wanted to cover for him. She wanted to tell them to fucking beat it, but the conversations that she had been having with Vega over the last few months had swarmed her brainwaves and at that moment everything was beginning to come together. He had been more attentive but not in a loving, compassionate way but in an, I have to keep you close to me because I need you. Semaj had tried to reason that he needed her because of the loss they shared and he was mourning like she was, but throwing himself into work kept him sane. But Semaj was slowly admitting to herself that it wasn’t that sort of need after all. It was much more sinister. His need came from one of the seven deadly sins…greed. All of a sudden he convinced me to become the leader of one of the deadliest mobs in North America, now I know why, she thought to herself. The Boss Bitch in her started to kick in. Semaj once again went over each detail in her head, and in that instant it was as if a light bulb illuminated in her head. Her body tightened and her breath got caught in her throat as she replayed the gunman’s voice at the airfield.

  “Don’t move, bitch!”

  “Don’t move, bitch!”

  “Don’t move, bitch!”

  “Don’t move, bitch!”

  The voice wasn’t even laced with a hint of an accent let alone a Jamaican twang. The men were indeed black niggas, but they surely didn’t have that rugged Kingston appearance like the hoodlums that was shooting at the hospital. It was two different groups, it had to be. But how? But why? But for what? It was all too complex for Semaj to fathom and she instantly became overwhelmed with confusion. Her sadness was written all over her face, but she couldn’t reveal what she’d mentally discovered; at least not until she could get the answers she needed to her questions.

  “I know this is hard for you, Semaj but your husband has to be accountable for his actions,” Bonjo said evenly. “One of my street sources called me before I got down here with some information that the nigga that tried to clip me at the nightclub the other night was some little ratchet nigga close to Vega’s camp in Virginia. Come to think about it the nigga was chopping it up with some of Vega’s little niggas from D.C., and them cats had to be the ones that slid the nigga the gun,” he figured.

  Semaj absorbed everything that was spoken, but it was all too much too swallow. Her head spun as she was besieged with her family’s allegations. She knew the rules to the game and even if Vega wasn’t responsible and his people were he still would die. But as his wife, the woman that vowed to love him for better or worse and the man that saved her life, there was no way Semaj could agree with what they were accusing her husband of. She just couldn’t believe what they were telling her. She didn’t want to believe that Vega was on some shady shit. After all, his crew could have set him up, but with all her reasoning, Semaj couldn’t shake the voice in her head that was telling her otherwise. Semaj was in a battle with herself and for her it felt worse than any war with the Jamaicans. Semaj got up and rushed out of the meeting room, knowing she had to find her husband. She had to tell him to flee until she could convince her grandfather that he was innocent. She dashed to the door that led to the stairwell.

  Her suspicious arose further as she took off up the stairs and thought about everything her people were insinuating. He said that he think I should start letting him get his own work separate from the bricks I get and he still pay his dues once he get the work off. He said he wanna do his own thing, she thought as she jogged her memory for clues. She began to go in deep contemplation and pondered on every conversation they’d had months ago, weeks ago, and even the previous day. She was trying to see if she could come up with anything logical that could give her answers. This is stupid…they just so into the traditional mafia beliefs and shit.they all are wrong. She pushed the thoughts out of her mind, but she could not shake the skepticism that had taken over her brain. But what if they aren’t wrong?

  “Oh my God, but what if they are wrong? They are going to kill him!” she told herself as she made it up the last flight of stairs. She raced down the hallway and by the time she made it to Vega’s room she was out of breath. She stepped into the room and everything was cleared out. She paused in disbelief as she stared down at the crisp, cotton sheets and empty bed. “Please, no!” Semaj screamed and her hand shot over her mouth as she assumed the worst. She rushed to the nurses’ station. “Where is my husband? Nathan Giles! He was just here,” she shouted, crying.

  “I’m afraid he has checked himself out. He signed out right after your grandfather left his room, ma’am,” the heavyset nurse informed her.

  Semaj just looked at the woman, paralyzed. She didn’t know what to think. Did Poppa order my husband’s death? Since they so into the rules of the mafia, they can’t do that shit unless I agree. I’m acting boss. Tears flowed down her cheeks.

  Finally, Semaj picked up her feet and bolted down the flights of stairs. I have to get to him, she thought as she reached the bottom floor and walked out of the hospital with her heart aching from uncertainty. She froze in fear and her heart shattered when she saw her grandfather directing his goons, automatically assuming he was putting the contract on Vega’s head.

  She crept back inside the hospital, but almost jumped out of her skin when she bumped into someone from behind. It was Marcela. “Semaj, I understand you might be devastated, but you can’t leave by yourself, ma.”

  “I have to find Vega. I just don’t wanna believe that he’d do anything like this. At least my grandfather needs to allow me to get his side of the story. I know I can convince him to tell me the truth about everything. I just have to, Marcela. Even though Niran is gone, Vega is still the father of my child and the only thing I have left that reminds me of my son. Because of the mob I lost my baby I can’t lose my husband too. I just can’t…I won’t.” Semaj cried on her cousin’s shoulder.

  “I can respect that. Vega is your husband and you all shared a child together, that can’t be taken lightly. I can understand you not wanting to turn your back on him based on unproven assumptions. For your sake I hope Vega is innocent, but if we prove otherwise you know what has to be done. Vega has to go.” Marcela was telling her what it was.

  “I understand, but that’s why I need for you to let me go. alone. I promise to be careful,” Semaj said assuredly. Marcela embraced Semaj briefly before she let her go, and didn’t protest as she watched her depart in search of her husband’s innocence.

  Semaj used the parking garage as her escape route. She knew she shouldn’t be walking around the city streets alone, but she needed to get to Vega. She walked three blocks in the light rain before she saw a taxi and immediately flagged the cabbie down.

  Once inside, Semaj speed-dialed Vega and asked for his location. He let h
er know and then she instructed the driver to take her to the unfamiliar destination. When they pulled into the quiet neighborhood, Semaj noticed Vega sitting on the porch as he told her he would. After paying the cab driver, Semaj exited the vehicle and walked slowly up the driveway. He came off the steps as he calmly adjusted his fitted Detroit hat, and approached her until they were standing face-to-face. Semaj looked directly into Vega’s eyes. A part of her was relieved to be in his presence, but another part of her was wary that she might be facing the enemy because if he had crossed her then that was what he was. Semaj didn’t even want to imagine him committing such an act of disloyalty.

  “Come inside, Semaj. I don’t want us standing out here in the cold rain, shorty,” he gently grabbed her by her hand and led her inside to the leather couch.

  “Baby, there is something that I need to ask you. Don’t ever think I doubt you or you can’t trust me. All I want is your honesty,” Semaj stated. It was killing her inside to even attempt to accuse him and Semaj almost broke down completely, but composed herself. Once Vega’s eyes met hers, she finally asked, “Did you pull that shit on my family?”

  “Hell nah, I’d never do no grimy shit like that. I thought it was them Jamaicans your family has beef with. But after speaking with Gio, nigga think some of my goons had something to do with it. I mean, I told my top lieutenants that I was flying out and them the only niggas besides the Family that knew when we’d touch back down. Never thought they’d do me, but you never can be too sure what a mu’fucka a do. There’s no other way around it, so you know I’ma get at them niggas, right? Everyone that knew about it is dead.” Semaj searched for the eyes of a liar, but his stare wasn’t moving. His gaze was unwavering and still, as if he was telling her the truth. What Semaj didn’t know was that she’d been marching with the devil and Vega was just that deceitful and convincing that his lies seemed genuine.

  “I know you will and no matter what they told me, I knew you didn’t have anything to do with what happened. You too much of a real nigga to hurt someone that you love. I know it,” Semaj arose and threw her arms around her husband as she cried on his chest. She knew it was up to her to clear his name and salvage Vega from the guilty box her family had placed him in. They can’t blame him because mufuckas thirsty. “I’m going to fix this. But while I do so, you have to lay low, Vega. My grandfather is unpredictable and you can’t show your face until I’m sure he understands that you had nothing to do with this.”

  Vega rested his head on top of hers and held onto his wife. He knew that Semaj was unaware that he was responsible for the shooting at the nightclub and the jet robbery, and the secret was eating him up but not to the point he was willing to confess. They had promised to never keep anything from each other and here he was being dishonest. Fuck this shit go wrong at, B?

  “I got you, Vega. Just be careful and smart ‘til this shit is over. I’m your wife and I’ma hold you down. Handle them niggas and I’ll handle my Poppa,” Semaj said as she kissed him on the lips and reluctantly backpedaled out of the house. I love you, he mouthed and she nodded in acceptance. Semaj looked at him one last time with a weak smile and disappeared out of the house. Semaj knew she would have to put in overtime if there was any chance of her saving Vega’s life. All dope business was shutting down from this moment on until she cleared her husband’s name and he was once again unified with her Dominican mafia family.

  Chapter 15

  The morning was unusually still, too still. Everything seemed so calm as Semaj looked out the bedroom window at the clear blue skies, although a dark cloud was forming. She couldfeel it in her bones. The tick of the antique grandfather clock was a horrible reminder that time waited for no man. She had spoken with her Poppa, called meetings with the Family, but everyone objected her desperate pleas and didn’t budge on their decision to dead Vega. Time had come for him to be no longer, and Semaj didn’t know how to handle it. Semaj wished that she could stop the black handfrom moving, but she couldn’t. Her husband’s life was on countdown and she knew his end was near.

  She shifted her focus and turned toward the bed where Vega lay. His arm in the sling looked uncomfortable, but Semaj knew that the pain in his shoulder was a scratch compared to what was about to happen to him; he had no idea. Vega was about to die at their home. Attempting to overthrow something so powerful had cost him his life. The old adage when a person is near death it is written over them and absolute. A bad omen swept over Semaj. She nervously fidgeted with the material of her short silk robe and slowly walked over to his bedside.

  “I’ma love you regardless if you did it or not,” she whispered as she bent down and kissed him on the forehead. The morning was so still that even the birds weren’t chirping, but the low beeping sounds coming from her security monitor grasped her attention. Her entire house was under surveillance and the noise that erupted from it was an indication that someone was on the property. Semaj glanced out the window and saw a procession of Suburban trucks pulling onto her grounds. She wished her eyes were playing tricks on her, but knew they weren’t and rushed closer to the bay window as her heart thumped in fear

  Both her hands flew to her mouth in disbelief as her eyes widened. “Oh my God,! No! Why! Vega get up!” she cried in alarm. She didn’t really think her grandfather would order his murder at their home. Over twenty Dominican goons swarmed her home in full bulletproof vest gear, all carrying assault rifles or handguns in their hands. Instinctively, the down ass bitch in her came out as her mind pulled toward the artillery that they kept in the rear of their bedroom. They had guns for days and Semaj knew that she wasn’t about to just allow them to take Vega away from her. She wished she would have arranged for him to get out of the country. A simple scheduled plane sent to a secret location, and Vega would have been chilling on the island by nightfall. If only she had thought about it all earlier. But he was home, and it looked like there would never be vacationing for him again.

  “Vega!” she called out as she sprinted to the corner of the room where the arsenal rack was positioned. He popped up from the bed at her roar. There was no way Semaj was about to let him fight the battle alone. It was until death do them part and Semaj figured if they were going out, it would be with their guns blazing too. She snatched the largest gun off the rack and tossed it to him and grabbed two machine pistols for herself.

  BOOM!

  She heard the front door’s lock get blown off by an obvious 12 gauge shotgun as Dominican goons knocked the door off the hinges and came flooding into her home. Her hands shook violently as she aimed her weapons at the door. She wanted to kill as many of Gio’s henchmen as possible, knowing that at least one would take her life in the process. But to her, it was all worth it. Vega had saved her, they had mourned their son’s death together and now, Semaj and Vega would elope in death where their baby boy was waiting for them at the crossroad. Just as the bedroom door flew open, paid hit men bombarded into her room, guns pointed their way. Then suddenly, Vega turned and pointed the gun at her chest, ready to take her life.

  The sound of the bedroom door opening snapped Semaj out of her dreadful thoughts, and she looked up to see Marcela. She’d been having the same nightmare for the last couple of nights and in her wake Semaj relived that dream over and over. She couldn’t escape it, but couldn’t help but wonder what it meant. It’s just a bad dream Maj. Soon this will be over and Vega will be straight, she told herself.

  “The cars are here to carry us to the funeral home,” Marcela announced, her voice even toned. She noticed that Semaj eyes were red and swollen as if she hadn’t gotten any sleep in days. Marcela knew they more than likely weren’t exclusively for Arturo, but for the pending death of her husband. “No matter what happens, I’ma be here to walk through everything with you.”

  Semaj responded with a nod of the head. It was too hard for her to speak without crying. She perched up from the window chair, put on large sunglasses and descended the steps. Members of the Milano family was already waiting in
the foyer for her, and without an exchange of words they all walked out of the house together. Semaj routinely headed to the second to the last vehicle, but Gio grabbed her hand, and said, “Today I’m going to ride with you and I’ll let Bonjo ride alone in position of me. You wouldn’t mind that would you, Semaj?” he asked. Gio always rode like a boss, by himself, excluding his driver, but today he asked Bonjo to switch places so he and Semaj could speak in private.

  “Where is Jah-Jah?” Semaj asked, her eyes moving around in search of her.

  “She’s handling some important business for the Family. It’d be just the two of us,” he said. “Can we talk?”

  “We can do that, Poppa,” she finally answered, as Gio pulled open the rear door for Semaj and then got into the backseat after her. Nervous energy filled her body and Semaj immediately began to stare out of the tinted window as the driver pulled off. She mentally prepared herself for the deep conversation—one that needed to be addressed, despite the dire circumstances at hand.

  “Poppa, I truly understand but I was just hoping we could come up with a different approach to get at the Jamaicans this time,” Semaj said as they pulled onto the block of the funeral home. Flashing red, white and blue lights lit up the gloomy streets and instantly jarred them from their discussion. Over fifty federal agents in full FBI labeled gear and several large trucks filled with agents alike were scattered across the street. Every alphabet affiliate to the police, ATF, DEA, and SWAT were on scene and it was obvious the funeral home was being raided.

  “What the fuck!” Semaj hand shot to her mouth as she looked at federal officials bringing out the body-filled coffin as if they were the pallbearers. She watched as they disrespectfully tore the casket up in an attempt to discover drugs. Her eyes misted and Semaj just knew that her family’s reign was over. The Feds had come and Semaj felt as if her life was falling apart right before her eyes. She knew all about the front businesses and was aware of the drugs being transported in and out of the caskets, to and from the mortuaries. Every funeral held there and every coffin that entered their funeral parlors had always been filled with bricks with an exception of a Milano family member—and today Semaj wished that Arturo had been their blood, because it looked like tomorrow would never come. She knew that once the feds found the dope, someone…someone close would be held responsible for the drugs and their freedom would be long gone with yesterday.