Mafioso [Part 1]
Page 21
They questioned her about the violence from her time in Bedford Hills to LCIW.
“I came in here young, stupid, scared, and lost. I had no direction, and there were some bad influences in the beginning, but at some point you need to find yourself. I did my time finding myself instead of losing control. I learned to do my time wisely, instead of letting the time do me. I’m ready to restart my life and make a difference somehow. And I’m sorry for what I did. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t feel regret and remorse—that I don’t think about the lives I destroyed. I was a stupid kid who did some awful things, but that person is long gone.”
Maxine sat stiff and firm, not wavering with her answer, but she couldn’t tell if she was influencing them or not. There was no need for her to become unhinged in front of the parole board. Either they would grant her freedom or not. Ironically, she had gotten so used to the prison life that freedom seemed far-fetched.
***
To Max’s shock, she was granted parole. The Louisiana prison system was becoming too crowded, so the state was giving first-time offenders parole. She would be released after twenty-two years behind bars. Now, she could execute her sweet revenge up close and personally.
Excerpt from
Mafioso - Part Two
Y’all actually believe that Gotti, Bonnie, and Clyde were killed over a drug beef by a street thug named Deuce? A man who months ago, had no idea we existed?” Whistler argued.
“It’s gotta be him. Who else has means and motive to touch one of our own?” Bugsy asked.
“This is the handiwork of someone who’s smart but also has patience. A hood nigga like Deuce would have tried to take out the head and watch the body fall. He woulda come at Scott, not his kids. These hits were professional. No witnesses, no fuckin’ warning!”
“You talkin’ ’bout some mastermind—some character out a fuckin’ novel,” Meyer cursed.
“I’m saying to everyone in this room that these aren’t business-related murders. It feels personal and deliberate. They were methodical and well planned.”
“Then give us a name, Whistler,” Bugsy said.
“He don’t have a fuckin’ name. He’s full of shit,” Meyer said. “Makin’ shit bigger than what it is. This is a drug beef, niggas. We fightin’ over territory block by block. You know what it is.”
Whistler’s face tightened like a rubber band stretching to its limits. He clenched his fists and was three seconds from leaping over the table at Meyer. The boy was a hothead with no common sense. If it weren’t for Scott, Meyer would have been dog food on the streets.
The brothers continued to bicker back and forth with Whistler, who always felt he was the smartest guy in the room. Whistler had no name for the assailants, but he knew it wasn’t Deuce’s doing. He needed to investigate more. There was someone in the shadows coming at them. Their true enemy had not yet revealed himself. Deuce executing this shit just wasn’t feasible. Whistler needed to make Scott and Layla believe that. But, they were too emotional. They were angry and wanted bloodshed. Someone needed to die, which was understandable.
“Give me time, and I’ll find a name. I’ll locate the muthafuckas responsible for these attacks,” Whistler assured Scott. “I’ll burn them alive for ever fuckin’ with the West Empire.”