Mafia princess, p.1

Mafia Princess, page 1

 

Mafia Princess
 



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Mafia Princess


  This novel is a work of fiction. Any references to real people, events, establishments, or locales are intended only to give the fiction a sense of reality and authenticity. Other names, characters, and incidents occurring in the work are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, as those fictionalized events and incidents that involve real persons. Any character that happens to share the name of a person who is an acquaintance of the author, past or present, is purely coincidental and is in no way intended to be an actual account involving that person.

  ISBN 13: 978-0984332588

  ISBN 10: 0984332588

  Cover concept by Deja King & www.MarionDesigns.com

  Cover layout and graphic design by www.MarionDesigns.com

  Cover Model: Shanel Nelson

  Typesetting: Keith Saunders

  Editors: Deja King and Linda Williams

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data; A King Production

  Mafia Princess/by Michelle Monay

  For complete Library of Congress Copyright info visit;

  www.dejaking.com

  A KING PRODUCTION

  A King Production

  P.O. Box 912, Collierville, TN 38027

  A King Production and the above portrayal log are trademarks of

  A King Production LLC

  Copyright © 2011 by A King Production LLC. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without the permission from the publisher, except by reviewer who may quote brief passage to be printed in a newspaper or magazine.

  Contents

  Dedication

  Acknowledgement

  Prologue

  Chapter1

  Chapter2

  Chapter3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Prologue

  Aaliyah

  Dedication

  This Book is Dedicated To My:

  Family, Readers and Supporters. I LOVE you guys so much. Please believe that!!

  —Joy Deja King

  This book is dedicated to everyone from the struggle that is determined to make it to the top. Know that all things are possible if you just stay on your grind and work hard!!!!!! Also, to my wonderful mother Tonya Cole, great job on raising me to be a determined and respected young lady. Mommy we have seen the bottom so there is only one other way to go!! Thanks for everything!!

  —Michelle Monay

  Acknowledgement

  Dear Heavenly Father:

  There are no words that can explain how much I deeply love and appreciate you for your undying love, grace and mercy Father. Only you know the trials and tribulations I face on the daily, the pains and the doubts that I experience and the things that I have been through over the years. I know that it is only because of your divine favor that I’ve been blessed with the Gift of a wild imagination and actually have the ability to express my thoughts through words. I’m a firm believer that everything happens for a reason and you constantly make that adage absolute. Sometimes I’m not able to understand why certain things has happened in my life but I’ve come to learn that even when things look bad it only means that you have an even bigger plan and purpose for me. With you navigating me through life there is no possible way that I can be stopped and as long as you are with me I can’t fail at nothing I do. You’ve showed me that I’m one of your chosen ones countless of times and I’m beyond highly favored. I’m starting this new chapter in my life and I’m going to show the world exactly what you created through my talents. I’m still in the beginning stages of my life and I know I have ways to go but once it is all said and done, I know that I’m going to make everyone that believe in me very proud and all praise will forever go to you God. Through Christ Jesus all things are possible and I can’t be grateful enough for the blood of your only begotten Son. I love you both with everything within me and God I’m more than thankful for everything I am and everything I am not!!

  To My Wonderful Mother: Tonya Marie Cole. Mommy there is no word in the English dictionary that can describe how great of a mother you are. You know when I’m sad without me telling you, you know when I’m hurt just by looking at me, you know when something is bothering me just by the way I speak to you over the phone, Ma you know things about me that no one else can detect and sometimes I wonder how you do it. Mommy you know I try my best to hide it and be the strong one, but I’m very grateful that you know your daughter because during my weakest times you find a way to strengthen me. You are the greatest mother and father ever, and although my dad was there I feel that you still go above and beyond to make sure I’m straight and your love, honor and grace is unmatched. No one can ever compare to you. It’s crazy Ma, and I’m super blessed to have you walking through life with me. I love you Ma and you already know what it is when it comes to us. Closer than close, tighter than tight!!!!

  To My Favorite Cousin: Shawniboi. You know we’ve been through our ups and downs and your ways are out of this world (insider) but no matter what you’re truly the closest cousin I ever had and I will never forget when you told me don’t stop writing until I’m thirty, and coming out blasting never gets old, LOL. I’ma take heed to that one, SB!!!! Man, I wish you could jump on this hustle with me but I know you doing your thing and I respect that, so you know I’ma hold it down like you on it with me anyway. I’m glad you home, fam, and got off on that case, but I know you got something special in you so I say go out and take it, because ain’t nobody gonna hand you nothing out here. We closer than most and tighter than the rest and success is right there we just all gotta grab it. I won’t stop until I die, our motto!!!! Love you Fam more than we verbally express!!!!!

  To My Girls: Jerrica Patterson, you are my best friend and our friendship is unbreakable. It’s about to be eighteen years we’ve been best friends and we only twenty-three. WOW!!! That’s crazy, and you know we ride-or-die. You true and loyal and with that you’d always be my bestie. You believe in me and I appreciate you letting me know that Mafia Princess is the one. Your opinions mean the world to me. Love you BFF. Alisha Briggs, man you don’t know how much I miss you. You are one of the greatest friends that I have—whatever you had, I had and it was vice versa. I appreciate you for always being a good friend. I’ma always hold you dear to my heart. What up, Ree-Ree, my long distance friend from NC. We have never met but I promise you, you my dawg like you done grew up with me or something. It’s too crazy how much you believe in me and how real you are fam. I really appreciate you for the encouragement and you are someone that I can confide in without judgment. I love you like you family, Muah!!! Lanita Henderson, o’ my, honey, LOL. What I find to be crazy is that we’ve known each other since middle school and we’ve always been cool but now years later you my people. You are such a great friend and I hate that we just found that bond, but now that we got it our friendship can only grow. You are so special to me and I know God will bless you beyond your own belief. Keep the Faith, girlie. All four of you uplifted me when I was down so I had to shout you out personally. Love you ladies!!! S/O to my sisters, JhaQuanna “Bunka” Nevins, Denise Walker and my fam Toni Holmes Laken Gardner, Destinee Odom, Tyra Wilson, Deanna Brookshire, Brittany Russell, Tamika McComb, and to all my family and f
riends. I love you all!!! Oh, almost forgot, B. Russell, we know you a true Mafia Princess (INSIDER) Ha ha!!!!!

  To Deja King: You are truly a child of God. You came in my life at the right time and this could only be the work of our Heavenly Father. You are truly the literary sweetheart and I swear you have a heart of gold. God works in mysterious ways and I know he has placed us in this position for great purposes. The way you believe in me is that of a mother to their child and I’ll never be grateful enough to have you behind me. You are one of the big blessings in my life and I’m beyond honored to be your first chosen one. God has much more in store for the both of us and I’m ready for this wonderful journey ahead. I can see our relationship growing to something Great and you know I’m all in. I can’t express how excited I am to be rocking with you and you know the pen ain’t dropping no time soon. Leggoooo!!!! LOL J

  To My Readers: I appreciate all of the love I’ve been receiving from all of you and I can’t thank you enough for welcoming me onto the street lit block. I have so many stories in me and I promise to deliver each and every time. Help spread the word that there’s a new great author on the scene, LOL!! THANK YOU SO SO SO MUCH!!!!

  Lastly, I can never forget my friend Ryan Daniel—we all love and miss you dearly and Mauly Maul R.I.P— Mauly we were each other’s first crush and I remember us chasing each other down on our bikes when we was super young like it was yesterday and I remember the last time I saw you, you had grew all up on me. Man, I wish I could have had that opportunity to holler at you the last time I saw you, but you are greatly missed by all that knew you. Two of my young friends gone but never forgotten and I will always remember the good o’ times!!!

  Until my brain meets my pen again! It’s love! One!

  For more information about me or comments hit me up Michellemonay1988@yahoo.com, MichelleMonayIs@twitter. com. Follow my “like page” on Facebook @ Michelle Monay

  Prologue

  THE SETUP

  In the ghetto there are two kinds of street chicks: slut chicks and gutta chicks. If labeled the latter that meant you were on your A-game in the ‘hood, fitting Semaj’s guise naturally. As she lay snuggled in Gabe’s strong arms on the king-sized bed, Semaj smiled inwardly. Gabe was knocked out from the pussy she’d put on him. She glanced at the digital clock atop the nightstand. For the last hour she’d slyly observed the red illuminating numbers change on the dial in anticipation of what was to come.

  Just as midnight turned into the one ‘o clock hour the sounds of “CLICK-CLACK” startled the light sleeper and for dramatic effect, Semaj screamed fearfully.

  Instinctively, Gabe went underneath his pillow, and frantically began to search for his weapon. It was an empty space, which he found rather odd. He always slept with his ratchet within reach, but he had realized that he’d left it inside the dresser drawer due to Semaj’s persistent request.

  “You already know what time it is, fam! Where?” the intruder said calmly as he pointed the barrel of the AK-47 in between the two.

  “Where what, man?” Gabe’s eyes bugged wide in shock. “Don’t play with me, son. Fuck is the cash at, my man?” “I don’t keep nothing here, B. Shit’s at another spot.”

  “Now this nigga playing games. It’s at another spot, huh?” Murder Mitch said disbelievingly. “So you gon’ keep playin’ wit’me, nigga?”

  “On some real shit, I don’t keep shit here.” Gabe shrugged his shoulders. “There’s nothing in the house.”

  Murder Mitch’s patience was running thin and he was not there to play games. Abruptly the sound of a gun’s blast erupted. Murder Mitch had sent a bullet an inch above Gabe’s head, causing the wood to splinter down the middle. “Don’t think you wanna keep playin’ around with me, playboy. Take me to the stash.” Murder Mitch pressed the hot barrel to Gabe’s chest.

  Semaj’s body shuddered violently as if she was desperately afraid, but the moment she noticed a silhouette in her peripheral view her fright became a serious fear. The moving shadow was approaching with a pistol in hand, and at that instant, Semaj locked eyes with the foreigner. She had to warn her father. “Who is that?” she asked, her heart galloping in uncertainty. Before words could be exchanged, Murder Mitch swiftly shifted his aim. The guy never saw it coming and a slug had been introduced to his head, sending mucus and brain splatter spraying throughout the hallway.

  “What the fuck?” Gabe roared in devastation. He knew that he was in deep shit.

  Murder Mitch had had enough of the bullshit and sliced the side of Gabe’s face with the knife on the AK-47, causing it to instantly swell up and bleed. Gabe grunted and winced in excruciating pain. “Now, I know I ain’t gotta ask again, my man.” Murder Mitch said calmly. The insane glare in his eyes was indication that he was itching to let bullets pierce the flesh.

  “Shoebox in that closet!” Gabe said, willing to give up his money in trade for Semaj’s safety. If Semaj weren’t involved he would have spit in his face, not giving the stick-up kid the satisfaction of robbing him; he would have died for his no doubt. But more was at stake…Semaj. “You grab the money for me,” Murder Mitch said coldly as

  he held Gabe at gunpoint and tossed his daughter a knapsack. As instructed, Semaj scuffled over to the closet. She retrieved the money from the Timberland shoebox and a brick of coke that was wrapped in tubes, resembling small fingers. She stuffed the dope and the money into the knapsack. Semaj handed her father the bagful of goods as he backpedaled out of the room, continuing to have the weapon trained on Gabe.

  Something told Murder Mitch to put a hot one in him, but it was as if Semaj were speaking through her eyes and nixed the notion. Easing out of the room, he said threateningly. “Don’t move for sixty seconds.” He stepped over the fresh corpse as if it was litter on a city street and exited the house.

  The daughter and father had accomplished another street robbery, but for some reason an eerie feeling passed over Semaj. Something in her bones felt wrong, and she wanted nothing more than to get out of there. Damn! We were supposed to play this shit smart not reckless, she thought. I ain’t know nobody else was even here.

  Gabe wasn’t willing to helplessly watch as the stick-up kid got away without an attempt to take his life. Instantly, he popped up and grabbed his .357 chrome Magnum. Semaj held the solemn expression that crossed her face as Gabe left out of the room enraged. He stepped onto the porch, but it was too late. The car was long gone.

  Ten minutes later

  Gabe hopelessly paced back and forth inside the living room as the human waste was becoming unbearable. The stench had come from the empty bowels from the dead body and the blood mixture. It wasn’t the excessive stink that bothered him though. It was the body, the missing drugs and the money. To owe Gio was to start making funeral arrangements for yourself. Not to mention a dead relative. What looked to be a good come-up turned into a bad situation.

  The man had been sent by the notorious Dominican drug boss to deliver him a brick of cocaine via his bowels. The plane had landed that night and he was supposed to do the job, stay overnight and then head back home. Nobody knew that he would no longer be returning. Gabe was hesitant to dial the number he’d been given in case of an emergency. But he knew Gio would find out one way or another, so he manned up and dialed the headman.

  “What’s the problem, Gabe?” a voice with a thick Dominican accent said.

  “Your nephew is dead. Some nigga ran into my spot, but—” Gio cut him off mid-sentence. “You know I told my family that

  I could trust you. I vouched for you. Now you are telling me that my family is dead?”

  “It’s fucked up.” Gabe wanted to be apologetic, but with a man like Gio, an apology was no good. He had sent his nephew down out of trust. When that line was broken so was their business relationship and things would only turn deadly.

  “You know I have to bury my nephew into the dirt while you remain on earth, Gabe,” Gio said as his voice became more aggressive and assertive with each word. “We will meet a
gain, my friend.” He hung up.

  A piercing scream followed and Gabe’s phone collided with the flat screen plasma TV, causing it to split down the center. Gabe threw things around the room violently and fought himself. He frantically grabbed his head and paced the room, fuming. “Word to my mutha, I’m gonna murder everybody that’s associated to the people that set me up! I’ma find out who was behind this shit, son!”

  Semaj felt her body temperature rise as her heart began to beat erratically. The sounds of shouting and rattling blared loudly in her ears, sending a twinge up her spine. Her chest became tight as she fidgeted nervously. I hope I don’t look like a suspect, she thought as her breathing became deep—very deep—panicked.

  Finally after his rage subsided, Gabe scuttled into the bedroom. “We gotta get the fuck out of Dodge! Ain’t no tellin’ when them slick hair muthafuckas gon’ come gunning for my head!” He grabbed as much as he could before they fled from the apartment.

  Chapter1

  The club filled quickly as New York’s street prestige walked through the door prepared to celebrate the grand opening of Big Pat’s strip joint. Everybody who was anybody came out to bring in New Year’s Eve with Big Pat and his entourage. A big time hustler, everyone knew who he was. Big Pat and his team were stationed in the glass-skybox that overlooked the club on the third level. Bottles of champagne flowed freely at their table and butt naked strippers danced for the ‘hood’s elite. The VIP area was full of New York’s finest and the only people allowed up were the privileged. Big Pat smirked as he sipped his bubbly and stood amongst his circle. In New York, Big Pat was like a celebrity. It was his town. Everything about him rang old money too. Dope Money…Dirty Money…Blood Money.

  Observing as people poured in, Big Pat focused his attention on the brown-skinned beauty and admired her from afar.

  Semaj turned heads as she walked through the crowd and he loved how she had instantly stolen his attention. Her red Prada dress looked as if it were painted on her five feet seven frame, showing off her thick thighs and long legs, and the ostrich thigh high boots made her shine like a rock star in a crowd full of duds. Her hair was pulled up high, in a loose ponytail, and her soft baby hair rested flawlessly around her edges. Everything from her eyebrows to her French-pedicured toes was on point and the attention she was getting let her know she had put herself together right.

 
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