Page 1 of Mafia Kings & Wedding Rings
Prologue
Oak Bluffs was usually quiet in the hours right before dawn. The kind of quiet that meant everything dangerous had already happened, and the survivors were counting their blessings or their motherfucking bullets. Standing on the top floor of one of the Marek buildings with the city spread below like a chessboard he had long since mastered, Justus Marek observed every piece in its place. Every pawn paid a tribute. Every rival bowed or was buried. When Justus was coming up, the Hansley family had it on lock. His grandfather was running numbers while his father was cooking up bombs to take out their opps. This world was nothing new to him.
The Marek empire had been built from the ground up, brick by brick, deal by deal, body by body. Now, with the brink of spring on the horizon, he was fully at peace with the order he carved from the chaos. Peace, he’d learned, was the most dangerous thing a man in his position could feel. Watching the streets he owned, Justus knew it should have been a quiet night. Yet something dark lingered in the atmosphere. Gripping a bottle of his family’s whiskey in his hand, he examined the label. The taglineswear on the bottlewas scribbled in script below the logo. The Marek family crest, which included the M embossedon a shield split into three sections: a coiled serpent in one, a whiskey barrel, and a pair of crossed daggers. A banner crowned the shield, readingMarek Reserve.
For the consumers, it was a nod to celebrating love, friendship, and milestones. When you toasted with a Marek, it meant something else. Swear on the bottle, sealed with a sip was the motto. That first taste means you’ve accepted their terms, and there is no walking away. Not everyone could grasp that. Familiar footsteps in the distance drew his attention as he tipped the bottle to his lips.
The first shot shattered the window in front him, spraying glass like frozen rain. The second buried itself deep in his chest. Staggering, Justus saw his killer in the window pane in front of him. There was no mask or hesitation, just a pair of cold eyes and the knowledge that his legacy now teetered on the edge of open war. Bleeding on the carpet of his empire, Justus didn’t beg or plead because he wasn’t built that way. His last thought was of his sons and what was to come. His last breath wasn’t a prayer, but an oath unspoken. The war for his territory had just begun.
Staten ‘Static’ Marek
Two weeks later…
“Aman’s got to have a code, a creed to live by, no matter his job.”
Justus Marek’s words had been on a loop in my head for the last seven days. With my grandfather retired, he became the head of our family almost fifteen years ago. Family was one thing… but our organization was more than that. When a muhfucka heard the term Mafia, they immediately assumed ruthless, heartless criminals. Truth was, we was just a bunch of boss ass niggas controlling our environment from fuck shit. Justus Marek Sr. didn’t fuck around, and when it came to his family, his expectations were higher than most.
Hence why we were all gathered around in the living room of his large ass estate waiting on our family lawyer to tell us why we’d been summoned. My pops’ funeral was today, and I was already weary being in Oak Bluffs this long. Ten years ago, when I packed everything I needed on the back of my truck, I didn’t even glance in the rearview mirror. Never had I imagined returning home on these terms. Staring around the dreary living room, I listened to the thunder rumble with my hands steepled patiently together in front of me.
“Well, now that everyone is here… we can get started.” Our family attorney, Jason Mitchell, addressed us from the chair opposite mine.
Poised in her motorized chair to my left, my mother sat calmly with designer threads draping her thin frame. Diamond and gold jewelry dripped from her ears, neck, and fingers as she tucked some loose strands of hair and cleared her throat. She’d always been a natural beauty, with rich, buttery toffee skin and a slim, angular face. Her round eyes and full lips were her standout features in my opinion. Although handicapped, the strength she carried was nothing short of amazing. She decided a long time ago that she wasn’t going to allow that to stop her from living a full life.
Our grandmother, Marcella Marek, sat beside her with one arm propped up on the sofa. Laced in Chanel, gray hair sleeked back into a tight bun, most people could never guess that she was in her eighties. My younger brother, Ivo, quietly lingered on one of the gray, crescent-shaped Versailles sofas arranged across a gold-legged table with a marble top. He hadn’t said much since we’d been here, and I wondered what was on his mind. This muhfucka was good for hiding some shit.
As kids, we were close but competitive coming up. Ivo excelled at just about everything he did, so he always had favor with my parents. My father specifically. Where I was good with my hands and being the muscle, Ivo was a beast in boardrooms. Never mattered much to me. I didn’t want to be stuck sitting behind some desk in a suit all damn day. Ivo put his own creative passions aside to fulfill what our father felt was his destiny.
On the other couch, my baby brother, Breccan, who everyone called Brick, scrolled his phone and chewed on a Twizzler while my auntie Soleia examined her fresh nail set. Seeing them seated side by side reminded me of back in the day. Sol had Brick with her so much people thought he was her child. She loved that boy,herstinkas she used to call him. Although much younger than me, my bond with Brick was different. He was always his own person and did whatever the hell he wanted to do. Much like myself, Brick didn’t let Justus bully him either.
Annoyed and growing impatient, I rubbed the wrinkles in my forehead from my position in one of two accent chairs. Behind me at the bar my aunt Sol’s husband, Haco, lingered. He was head of marketing for Marek Industries, among other things. My pops depended on him and Ivo a lot over the years, especially in my absence. As much as I loved Sol, I didn’t fuck with him like that. Since I’d been present he hadn’t had much to say to me past a greeting. Unbuttoning the blazer to his Brooks Brothers suit, Jason gripped a stack of papers in his hand and gradually stood before us. All the dramatics was only further irritating me. I had to take extra time off from my job in Chicago and pull my kids out of school to bury a man that I hadn’t spoken to in years.
“We are gathered here to go over the last will and testament from Justus Marek Jr. All parties are present, so we will begin.” Jason moved outside of the seating area and lingered behind his chair.
“I, Justus Alexander Marek Jr., declare that my estate be distributed as follows. For my wife. My rock. The one who gets me when no one else does, I love you. To Rossi Marek, I leave our home and all community and commercial property accumulated during our marriage, along with half of our financial holdings. I have made arrangements so that you can continue to lead the life you are accustomed to.” Jason paused and smoothed out his tie. “To my baby sister, Soleia, a trust has been established, and Jason will discuss with you the terms for retaining access. For my sons, the remainder of the estate along with all profit shares from every Marek-affiliated business will be evenly divided among you and your children. My final wish to each of you… secure the legacy,” Jason continued.
Locking eyes with my brothers, we each nodded.
“Staten, you are a father of four and my heir. It’s time for you to take that seriously. This family needs you. You have already fulfilled adding to our legacy, but without a woman to share that with, you are incomplete. I am only half the man I am because of your mother. Twelve months from this reading, you will have a wife. You have been appointed CEO of Marek Industries with Ivo at your side as CFO. Let me be very transparent on this last part, you are never to sell your stakes in our family business. It was built on the blood, sweat, and tears of your bloodline.”
“The fuck?” I objected, but Jason held his hand to silence me so that he could go on.
“I will answer all questions at the end.”
Swiping my beard in frustration, I leaned forward with my hands clasped together over my lap.
“Ivo, you and Jordan have been married and yet to produce. You have twelve months from the reading of this will to do so.” My brother practically popped a vessel.
“Breccan, I’m giving you grace as the youngest, but you are also on a timeline. You have twelve months from now to be married, and another twelve from that date to produce an heir. Consider this a trial period to figure out how to preserve our family.”
“Yo, the hell?” Brick’s entire face balled up, but Jason didn’t address either of them as he continued to read.
“Having money and power is one thing, but I learned a long time ago that it means nothing without someone to share it with. Your mother is responsible for holding me together during some of the most difficult, challenging times of my life.” Jason glanced at Rossi. “I want that for all of you more than anything. A man without a strong woman at his side is a liability to his bloodline. Make sure the Marek name continues to hold the same weightit always has. I’m entrusting you with it,” Jason finished and lowered the letter in his hand.
“The fuck is this, J?” Brick demanded, jumping to his feet.
“Watch your mouth, Brick,” Granny Marcella chastised, with Rossi staring off emptily next to her.
She’d been like this since I arrived. The only time she showed any kind of emotion was with my kids. Having them around seemed to somewhat lift her spirits. I was used to the whimsical, star-gazed look in her eyes. Justus was good for spoiling and ravaging her every chance he got, even after her accident. She got flowers for no reason, or some other trinket that she would fall in love with. Now she toyed with a charm bracelet on her wrist and tuned the rest of us out.
