In Holy Mafiamony

Chapter Fourteen

By the time the guys finished the tasks I had given them, we had precisely fifteen minutes left to get to the venue. We all gathered into the limo, and I started giving them the rundown. "The plan is simple. Since this is a viewing, there will be no weapons aside for the ones held by security. I have Arcelio on the inside. He said there are ten guards on the outside; they all have standard weapons. There are ten more on the inside with him; all have a clip and a spear. We hit the outside with silencers then move in. Once we're in, Miguel, you find DeConte. The little princess will come willingly, or daddy dies. ¿Entendido?"
(Sp: Understood?)

"Santi, I hope you know what you're doing," Miguel huffed out, shaking his head in skepticism.

"Miguel, I hope you're not questioning my authority. You may be my baby brother, but don't think I will not hesitate to shoot you dead." I lashed out, matching his attitude.

Swerling a glass of scotch, Miguel raised an eyebrow, "You may scare these fools with your empty threats, but you don't fool me. This plan sounds like a fucking suicide mission, and for what? A piece of pussy?"

"Don't test me, Miguel. You, more than anyone, know what happens to people who test me." I don't understand why he was pushing my fucking patience.

"Are you referring to when you sold Cataleya, our baby sister, into slavery for calling you out?... Or are you referring to the time you sold your fiance because she had the better business deal? Either way, all you're proving is that you sell the women who showcase your dumbass ideas," Miguel said like a snake going in for the final kill.

"Go ahead and kill me, but don't think my words are not true. Don't think Laganza will stick around supplying drugs to your dumbass. Puedo ser tu segundo al mando, pero hermano pequeño, siempre ganaré." He chuckled, knowing damn well he had the upper hand.
(Sp: I may be your second in command, but little brother, I will always win.)

-

Arriving at the venue, I couldn't believe how easy this was going to be. I thought DeConte was smarter than this. Only twenty men to protect a virgin mafia princess, up for auction.

"Miguel, Sanchez, Rocky; go left. Pablo, Deigo; you're with me on the right. Take them out quietly, quickly, and then meet up at the left the corridor. Don't fuck this up, or I will kill you. Vamonos!"

Five minutes is all it took to take down the ten guards outside. The more into the plan we got, the more respect I lost for DeConte.

"Boss, no disrespect or anything, but doesn't this seem too easy? I mean, this is a mafia princess event we're talking about," Deigo mumbled out, avoiding all eye contact.

"No, you idiot! See, this is what peace treaties do! They make a hell of a lot of people vulnerable, which is why I didn't just accept the invitation." I said, looking at him with disgust.

"I didn't know there even was an invitation," Pablo whispered to Sanchez.

-

Reloading our ammo, we grouped together and walked through the doors. Walking in, I spotted my angel right away. She looked like heaven just placed her on the dance floor. She was laughing with some fucker who I was going to kill first.
How dare anyone put their filthy hands on something so pure. I will gladly get more blood on my hands just to have her. I quickly looked around for Arcelio, but he was concealed by the shadows of dim lighting and the vast amounts of bodies walking around, gawking over my virgin bride-to-be. When I looked to my right, I saw Miguel heading towards an oblivious Delonte.

Fucking fool, didn't anyone ever teach him not to turn your back to the door? Shaking my head, I walked over to the dance floor, tapping Alaiyah on the shoulder.

-

Alaiyah:
"Hello, mi amor. Missed me?" he spoke through a bone-chilling smirk, his fingertips tapping together under his chin.

She was even more beautiful than the last time he saw her. Oh, how Santiago would make DeConte will pay for keeping him away from that 'beautiful piece of ass.'

"S-S-Santi. W-what are you doing here?" She stuttered out.

Him, hearing her words stumble like that filled Santi with rage. He was in love with her; he just wanted her to be his. He knew that cock-blocking father of hers has been filling her head with lies.

"Mi armor! Why I am here to wish the most beautiful girl in the world a Happy Birthday!" He smirked, biting his lower lip.

Santiago Salazar definitely looked more different than I remembered. His short, beach waved hair cut was now shoulder-length curls. His eyes, looking in mine shined, but not with purity. The held a sinister glow that plagued my nightmares. I have had them most nights, ever since I caught him looking through my window last May. I could tell Santi has been under a lot of stress; the twenty-one-year old's skin that was once sun-kissed now looked aged beyond his years. His had bags under his eyes, most likely from sleepless nights. He had a scare on the right side of his face; it was the gift I gave him my last day in Columbia. Santiago also looked like he lost weight; his once defined muscles were now nonexistent. The only thing about him that was the same were those dark eyes that absorbed the life out of everything they saw. I guess he is just a shell of a man who never got to be.

"May I have this dance, mi armor?" He asked as he pushed Yohanis out of the way.

Santi reached out and grabbed my wrist before I even had time to process what was going on. He roughly pulled me to his body, placing his other hand on my hip. As I looked around the room, I saw the lights where now bright and the music had stopped. People were silently looking, while huddled in corners (It doesn't matter how long a person is in the mafia; when You have six big dudes walking around, waving AK-47s in your face while you have no weapons to protect you, you cringe). Santi began pulling me around the dance floor, leading a dance with no music.

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