Excerpt from

Mafioso - Part FIVE

Getting Lucky

Scott reached into his coat and removed a letter from the inner pocket. He handed it to Layla.

She stared at Scott with uncertainty. “What’s this?”

“You need to read it. It’s important. You were right.”

A cop car flew by with its lights blaring. Scott fixed his eyes on it for a moment and then shifted his attention back to Layla. Her face was in the letter. She was reading it slowly. As she read, he could see the emotions forming in her eyes, the frown on her face, and the tears streaming down her cheeks. He remained silent. He wanted her to read it thoroughly, with no interruptions. They stood on the Harlem street corner, and though surrounded by noise and traffic, it felt like it was only the two of them. They had more privacy outdoors than inside.

Her eyes were flooded with blinding tears. When she finished reading the letter, Layla never felt so angry, furious, betrayed, and embarrassed. How could she have been so stupid? What kind of mother was she to leave her children vulnerable to be used as pawns in a twenty-year-old beef? Layla was visibly ill. Her hands got cold and clammy as her heart pounded so loud it felt like her eardrums would burst. It’s my fault, she thought. I paid this goon to kill my kids.

Layla’s eyes locked with Scott’s and she uttered with contempt, “When do we kill this fuckin’ bitch?”

Scott nodded. He understood her hurt and her pain. The letter revealed all that they needed to know—Maxine was the culprit behind everything. She was a mastermind, and they had greatly underestimated her.

“It’s not that easy,” he uttered.

Layla scrunched up her face. “Not that easy?”

“There’s Bugsy and the baby,” he said.

“And what they got to do wit’ it?”

“First, we just beat federal indictments, and there’s still attention on us. We’re hot, and we’re in the news. We react to this now, and it’s gonna look bad on us,” he said.

Layla seethed. She wanted Maxine dead—more than dead, she wanted the bitch to suffer, to be tortured until there was nothing left of her to torture, and then she wanted the bitch dismembered and her body parts scattered everywhere. Layla dried her tears, and now her heart was on fire with rage.

“She murdered our children, Scott! Our fuckin’ babies!” Layla cried out.

“And she will pay, but we need to be patient.”

Scott felt her rage. Since Bugsy and Maxine came to visit him while he was incarcerated and told him about their affair, he only thought of the day they would both die by his hands. But he couldn’t rush to kill anyone—not yet, only when the time was right. And he needed Layla on board to help pull it off.

“I have a plan,” said Scott.

Layla was listening. If Scott wanted her to agree to Bugsy, then he had to agree to Lucky. Walking back to where they came from, they discussed whether they should sanction the murders of Bugsy and Lucky like they were at a boardroom table. If so, they had to worry about Meyer, knowing how close he was to his siblings. Would he want to retaliate?

“If we do this, then we need to make the murders appear to come from an enemy. Tear a page from Maxine’s playbook. We can’t get our hands dirty. For now, we don’t mumble a fuckin’ thing to anyone—no one! We play things cool and enjoy being home for a moment,” Scott proclaimed.

Layla was listening. She wanted him to keep talking. This was the Scott she fell in love with—smart, violent, and devious.