Mob Wife

Mob Wife 18

Please skip this chapter if you need to. 

*mentions of drug abuse, anxiety and depression. 

Mob Wife 18: To be a Made Man

To be a Made Man, you must be recommended by another Made Man. If you wanted to be a Gangsta', you needed to carry out all hits to show how serious you are about joining this lifestyle.

Being a Gangsta' isn't just a title placed on you; the organization will put on a ceremony for your initiation. There is where you put on your best suit, best dress shoes, and get picked up in a car to take you there. Once you step foot in that room and make this agreement, you no longer live a regular life of a normal guy. You now live by gun and knife.

The Mob is your top priority, so it comes above all.

Years before as a crime family in New York, you had to be Italian to even be considered. They weren't hiring nobody that had a different name from them or skin that was dark.

I know, racist as fuck.

But, that's just how things were.

In order to be taken seriously, you had to start a war and end it. You wanted the block near the deli? You had to take it or buy it. It was traumatizing for many New Yorkers. To the Mob, they were protecting their locations or gaining new ones, building street credit, but to the innocent families that were around, they were frightened to even walk home. They dealt with being harassed by the asshole who thought they were the shit because they worked for the Vitale, Salieri, or the Alfonsi family, or any other families from before.

Mothers were afraid that their sons were going to hang around these terrible young boys and desire to be that instead of a lawyer or even a store owner. Fathers were trying to deter their son away from the life, while also liking how much money they brought in. Very indecisive.

Sometimes it was the mothers thinking this way, while the father panicked, shielding their child away from the trouble.

In order to strike this type of fear into anyone, you had to have been doing something terrible. At the time, it was very popular for these boys to throw Molotov cocktails at cars and through store front windows to show they meant business.

The parents of little girls were afraid to see their daughters return home with some flashy necklace or bracelets on because that signified that you belonged to someone, and it was more likely to be a mobster. Some parents wanted this for their kids- glad to see that their little girls would be taken care of, no matter how crappy they were going to be treated.

It was all about the gifts and money.

"How come you don't buy me anything this fancy?" a woman says while searching through Giovanni's jewelry draw. Giovanni was laying on his bed with nothing covering his body but a thin white sheet over his lower half. The woman that was in his penthouse was his fuck buddy. This was a mutual agreement, keeping things strictly sexual.

"Because, Lucy, you come here to get fucked, not get iced out in diamonds," he answers flatly.

Lucy smirked and continued examining his things, "touché," sighing immediately after. She saw one of his rings and decided to slip it on her left hand, the band loose in her ring finger. She started to like the picture of having a wedding band, so she wanted to ask, "you ever see yourself getting married or is this playboy lifestyle forever?"

Giovanni scratched his face, "forever."

She turned around to face him fully, crossing her legs as she leaned on the large black dresser, "what girl hurt little Giovanni's ego?" she chuckled between words.