Mafioso--Part 1 by Nisa Santiago

Author:Nisa Santiago [Santiago, Nisa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Melodrama Publishing
Published: 2017-10-17T04:00:00+00:00

18

2014

Rock didn’t know what happened to Black Sean and Rasun. He believed business went smoothly as usual. After the transaction, he celebrated with a few drinks at the strip club, made it rain on a few strippers, and later left with a voluptuous stripper named Candy for some extracurricular activities. In his personalized bedroom, they fucked passionately until they came and passed out, twisted together in exhaustion.

The next morning, Rock was awakened to the cold steel of a pistol against his forehead and several niggas standing in his bedroom.

He popped up wide-eyed. “What the fuck, yo! What y’all niggas want?” he hollered, panic in his voice.

“Chill, nigga,” Meyer said.

Bugsy said, “We came to talk.”

“Talk about what?”

“Tell the bitch to leave,” Meyer said of the butt-naked Candy sleeping against him.

Rock quickly stirred her awake.

When she finally opened her eyes, she too was devastated to see the sudden threat surrounding them. “Ohmygod!”

Meyer yelled, “Bitch, get your shit and leave before you get murdered up in here!”

The look on Candy’s face was one of candid fear. She leaped from the bed, hastily collected her things, and departed the bedroom faster than anyone could blink.

Bugsy tossed a few pictures onto the bed for Rock to see. A picture was worth a thousand words, and these images would start their conversation with Rock.

Rock was taken aback by the images of Black Sean and Rasun stuffed into the back of their Tahoe, both with large holes in their heads.

Bugsy said coolly, “I assume that we now have your complete attention.”

“What is it that y’all want from me?”

“It’s simple—your cooperation,” Bugsy said.

“Y’all come into my bedroom uninvited and show me pictures of two of my regulars dead? What the fuck!”

Meyer took a seat at the foot of the bed, making himself comfortable.

Bugsy tossed an eight ball of their product toward Rock and said, “From now on, you cop from us.”

“What?” Rock was baffled by their demand. “You know who I’m with?”

Meyer said, “DMC, right? Fuck them niggas!”

“Our product is far superior to DMC’s shit,” Bugsy said.

Rock examined the eight ball and shook his head. “They’ll kill me.”

“And who do you think we are? Some off-brand niggas that just came into town rolling the dice for fun? Nah, nigga. Check our fuckin’ pedigree—You need to be more worried about us than them clown-ass niggas. We’re official niggas rolling into your city, taking shit over. Put it like this—DMC is a mom-and-pop store, and we’re fuckin’ Wal-Mart, nigga, every fuckin’ where. Ain’t no stoppin’ us,” Meyer proclaimed.

“We already infiltrated the police. Detective Jones, that’s Deuce’s main guy on the force. Am I correct?” Bugsy said.

Rock slightly nodded.

“And there’s Marty, the low nigga on the totem pole. There’s Jimmy, Deuce’s right-hand man, and then there is Jo-Jo and McCall, his top two enforcers. Deuce gets his supply from the Jamaicans in DC, and their product is low grade, and y’all have to cut it too many times to get a rise,” Bugsy said. “Should I go on?”

“No,” Rock muttered, shocked at what they knew.

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