Chapter 29
Shio Cuppacio
This changes everything, baby.
I had been planning this dinner for the past week.
I would have had it later rather than sooner, but when the date became available due to an engagement cancellation, I had them charge my card for the private affair.
It had been a while since all of us were together without ass and titties on display, and with the way my family had been holding down Solana, I wanted them to feel appreciated as well.
I invited not only the adults but the littles too.
They, always ones to seclude themselves, were in the private room next door, so I would split my time between the two rooms tonight.
Instead of being inside the building, Don had pulled us out back to smoke.
About ten blunts were in rotation, and since we were at the back of the building, the only light was from the moon, our jewelry, and the tips of the blunts.
“What the fuck?” Nel jumped, causing all of us to reach for our guns.
“Joe, what the fuck you on?” His twin said aggressively, looking in the direction of the dumpsters where Nel stood.
“I know y’all just saw that big-ass rat.”
“Bro.” Ezio tucked his gun back into his waistband as I removed my hand from mine. “A fuckin’ rat, Nel?”
“Fuck you mean, a fuckin’ rat? Hell yeah! A rat.”
“Maybe that should be y’all’s next challenge. Who can escape the wrath of the mighty rats?” Don stated, causing Zo, Teo, and Rut to laugh before he joined them. We didn’t see a damn thing funny because the challenges continued to get more and more risky.
“You know, if that is the challenge, yo’ tall ass gone be in there with us, right?” I nodded at Teo.
“And just like the other shit, y’all gone be on your fucking own.”
“Ain’t we missin’ a Cuppacio?” Don pointed out, changing the subject.
I looked down at my Audemars Piguet. I was feeling flashy tonight so I wore the bust down. “He made a pitstop. He coming through.”
“Yeah…” Ezio pulled from his blunt, smoke filling the air. “Anytime one of us is missing, all we gotta do is step to Demise. He may have dumped a nigga in Thailand.”
“Y’all swear y’all can take a nigga. And is smokin’ good for yo’ sobriety? High-ass nigga.”
“Yo’ sister ain’t complainin’.” Ezio grinned, and Don scoffed.
Nel jumped again. “Yeah, fuck this shit! That makes two big-ass rats, and those big-ass rats mean they been fuckin’ and makin’ big-ass babies. Shit gone spoil my damn appetite ’cause I’m gone think the restaurant got rats, and I’m too hungry for that shit.”
Nel dropped his blunt and stepped on it before swinging the back door open.
“Scary-ass nigga done blew my fuckin’ high.” Matteo put his blunt out the same way.
Everyone else followed suit, going inside and leaving Don and me alone. I hadn’t been smoking, just listening to these nigga’s chop it up and enjoying the slight night breeze.
“You all spiffy and shit.”
I smirked. “Just tell a nigga he fly, yo.”
“You aite. Cool enough to kick shit with. But what the fuck is this shit? I hope it ain’t no proposal.”
Standing from the wall I’d been leaning on, I approached Don. “You said I had to marry one, right?”
“I also said you had thirty days, or I was pickin’ for you. I think you got two more of them shits. You sure that’s you in there?”
I laughed. Don was a fucking mind-bending motherfucker. “Yeah, we both know you wasn’t pickin’ shit, at least not for me.”
I pulled the door open and stepped inside.
“Yeah, aite. Remember who run shit, Cuppacio.”
I wasn't worried about leaving Don alone because I’d already seen the big-ass guards he had posted around the building.
I shook my head because the Don ran the mob, but he didn’t run me.
I made my way through the kitchen, where the chefs and servers were working.
Instead of lingering to see the reason the restaurant smelled so good, I continued into the ambiance of the restaurant.
Stepping into the room to check on the littles, I immediately grinned at seeing the younger generation dressed up and talking shit to one another.
“Italian, please go to one of the other seats. Ion feel good.”
“That’s cuz that nigga was posted in the blogs with that model bitch. Don’t get mad at me cuz you love-sick, ZeyZey.”
I looked around after hearing Italian and Big Zan’s daughter bickering, and nodded in appreciation.
This group had been holding me down in more ways than one.
They had all stepped up to be my hands, eyes, and ears when it came to Solana because, even though some other shit was brewing there, she was mob business at the end of the day.
Glow’s little sister and her friend were giggling in the corner, fitting in as if they’d come to Jagoda Bay with us from Chicago.
They were very much a part of the crew now, and I made a mental note to chat with Bella and Pearla about what was appropriate to say and not say in their company.
The three musketeers, Bella, Mahzeyah, and Pearla, had been busy since six o’clock this morning because I’d paid them to get everyone together, including this bunch.
“Italian, give her fifty feet.”
Mahzeyah’s eyes shot to me. She looked so much like her mother but a lot like her father too. “Ohh, heyy, Mr. Shio. You have to give me the glam squad information. I need them to do me up for prom, graduation, and senior pictures!”
“Yessss! They have to get us right,” Pearla cosigned, and it was good to see her smiling. I knew it had a lot to do with Mr. Joe’s grandson, however, but we’d be on standby if that situation blew up from Matteo finding out or Grind having a miracle and waking up, demanding her.
“I ain’t trying to be messy…” Bella started, putting her phone on the table.
“What, Bellz?”
“Ion like yo’ baby mama, cousin.”
I chuckled. “You ain’t met her.”
“I saw her and that was enough! She aggy-looking.”
“She fine, though,” Italian said with lust in his eyes. The little nigga was getting too much play to think he had a shot with Bahati.
Mahzeyah snapped her head toward Italian so hard that it looked like she was from a scene out of The Exorcist. “And you fake as fuck! Excuse my language, Mr. Shio. You know we team Solana!”
“Solana my nigga for life. She already know how this shit gone go, and so do everybody else. That don’t mean Brama ain’t fine.”
“Who?” I asked.
“Brama… Shio baby mama...”
Bella snickered. “That is not that lady's name.”
“Irrelevant. That’s what it needs to be. Don’t mean she don’t look good. Solana knows I’m team her.”
“I hope this ain’t no proposal ’cause I’m objecting!” Bella crossed her arms.
My cousin was in a dress and heels and had diamonds on her neck and wrist like she was a mob wife. Whatever the fuck Essex was paying her, he was doing it well.
“Why everybody thinks this is a proposal? Damn, I can’t do nothing nice for the fam?”
The girls eyed me uncomfortably, and my smile fell. I rubbed my hand down my face.
“Bellz… Y’all told Solana I was proposin’ to Bahati?”
Bella’s eyes danced around before they landed on me, and her face answered my question before she responded. “Whatttt? We needed somebody to talk shit to, and Solana is our best Mexican biatch. She wanted to know why we were gettin’ fancy.”
Suddenly, my heart was pounding in my chest. I hadn’t stopped thinking about Solana since I left her bed last night.
I wanted to slip back in with her this morning, but with the way she was wincing, I wouldn’t dare.
I meant it when I told her I loved her. The fucking thought of her made my heart race.
I loved the hell out of Solana, but I knew love wasn’t enough.
What we shared was earth-shattering, truly soul-quaking, but the fact remains that she was an addict, and she might’ve been right about my addiction, yet the fact remained that she was addicted to drugs.
I was not. Now, the thought of her thinking I would bring Shya to her so I could dip off and propose to Bahati had me ready to break out in hives.
“Just think… You had a team to get all of us to dress up really nicely, and you rented out a restaurant. Then, when Solana told us you had plans with Bahati, we put two and two together.” Bella smacked her lips and rolled her eyes. “Were we wrong?”
“Very.” I began to back out of the room. “The appetizers will be out shortly.”
“Favorite, cousin?” Bella sounded like she wanted to cry when I was the one ready to run up out of here and get my ass to Jisei’s townhouse.
“Wassup, Bella?” I knew I wasn’t her favorite, Metavello was, but I wasn’t going to call her out on it because she was trying to lessen her mistake.
“Can we please have at least one round of Lemon Drops? None of us drove.” Bella placed her hands in a prayer position.
“Bye, Bella.”
Closing the door shut, I made my way into the other room, where everyone should’ve been.
The men hadn’t made their way back into the room yet, but I could see them in the distance, sipping from glasses as they chatted in the open space of the restaurant.
I guess the beauty of renting an entire dining establishment was that we had it all to ourselves.
This was actually our only option since Don was always trying to talk business.
To him, business was dashing insults and talking shit, but nonetheless, business was always done.
My mama and aunties had taken a booth in the back and were clinking their glasses together, which I didn’t understand because there was more than enough room for them in our room.
I shrugged, knowing they always found themselves a separate space at events, and it was fine with me as long as they were enjoying themselves.
Opening the door, all of the wives had frowns on their faces as Bahati ran her mouth a mile a minute. She wasn't reading the room because they all looked like they wanted to knock her the fuck out.
Listening to the words spewing from her mouth, I didn’t think—I just reacted.
“Ahhh!” she screamed.
Glass shattered, chairs moved, and a very scared Bahati found herself at my mercy as my hands wrapped around her neck as she dangled in the air. Her eyes were bulging as she clawed at my arm, but I didn’t give a fuck. I kept squeezing, the look in her eyes all too familiar.
“Repeat what you said!”
“I-I… I-I.”
“Shio! I don’t think she can repeat it with her airways restricted.”
My head snapped at Dasani as she and all of the other women had gotten up from the table and backed away toward the far wall.
“Oh, I heard her. I heard her loud and fuckin’ clear.”
Bahati was struggling to breathe, minutes away from either passing out or passing away. This was déjà vu, but this time, her ass was dying.
“You said, she was all like, Shio, I promise you, that is not mine. I have no more left. You have to believe me. Ain’t that what the fuck she said?” I turned my head to the women as I felt Bahati become weaker on the table.
“She said that, but you’re about to k…k…kill her.” Discover hiccupped, near tears.
“This scandalous ass bitch needs to die! She too fuckin’ slick!”
“Shio…” Dasani warned.
“Fuck that. How the fuck does she know what the fuck Solana said when she said the shit in Spanish!”
Everyone quieted as if understanding why I was ready to kill this sneaky-ass broad. I knew it. I knew it since the plane ride from Mexico that her ass couldn’t be trusted.
I leaned into Bahati’s face. “Shio, te prometo que eso no es mío. No me queda más. Tienes que creerme… Those where Solana’s exact words. You’re a fuckin’ dead bitch, Bahati.”
I felt myself being pulled off Bahati, and before I could react, I came face-to-face with Ezio and Nel. Bahati fell to the long table, coughing uncontrollably, before sliding from the table to the floor, taking the white tablecloth with her.
“Bitch—”
“Aye!” Don boomed from the door. “Come take a walk with me… Now, Shio.”
Needing to get the fuck from out of the same space as Bahati before I murked her in front of the women that I loved and respected, I was the first one out of the room.
The littles all ran from the door, tripping over each other as I exited.
Instead of going toward the back of the restaurant again, I went out front.
If she thought she was about to get away with the sneaky shit, she had another thing coming.
“Shio.”
“What?” I barked as Don followed me outside.
I began pacing, needing to move so I wouldn’t go back in there and finish her off.
Bahati being able to speak Spanish changed everything.
It changed so much shit and also put so much more into perspective.
The loopholes in her story. Her not wanting to leave the house.
The fucking apartment magically burning down that I still haven't addressed her ass about.
She had some shit to her from the very start, and although I felt it, I was trying my damndest to give her the benefit of the doubt and build a relationship with our daughter.
“Don, this shit ain’t addin’ up.”
“I know.”
“That bitch can speak Spanish!”
“That I didn’t know, but I ain’t surprised.”
I stopped pacing and faced Don. With the way I was feeling, I would flat lined his ass too. He reached into his jacket’s inside pocket, and I reached down to my waistband.
“Slowdown, killa. I ain’t ’bout to do shit funny.” He pulled a manila folder from the jacket pocket.
“Fuck is this!” I snatched the folder. Reading over its contents, I became even more enraged. “So, I’m not the father. Yeah, that checks out. This bitch is good as dead.”
I closed the folder and handed it back to Don.
“Open it back up and read again.”
“Why? I saw what it said. Shya isn’t mine.”
“Open it back up, nigga. Read the line right before your name.”
I opened the folder back up, my eyes scanning the entire page now, and I could feel the spirits of the bodies I was about to drop.
Conniving, phony, sneaking ass bitch!
“Them test wasn’t readin’ right for a reason. You had the doctor shook when you didn’t schedule the third test, so he reached out to make sure we hadn’t listed his ass to meet the maker. I told him to retest what he had. That shit wasn’t faulty, Cuppacio. Whole time, that shit was accurate as fuck.
“You ain’t the pappy, nigga. But the gag is, she ain’t the mammy either. So who the fuck kidnapped-baby y’all over there playin’ house with?”