CHAPTER TWO: FORELLI

I was in shock. I was stupified. Did this nigga just hang up in my face? Did this bastard just call off my wedding? Oh, no he didn't! Well, I sure as fuck was not going to get on my knees and call him back like some bitch he had trained. I also had no intention of calling off any fuckin' wedding, not after all the sweat and blood I put into it. I'd just change the locks on the house and continue with the planning. I'd send CJ to pick him up on the day of our matrimonial union.

I threw the phone against a picture frame on top of the television, shattering the glass to pieces. I made my way to the kitchen and hunched over the island counter, my black hair, which now had red hi-lights, falling in my face. It was hard to keep from crying. It was hard to think about how Cesar, the man I loved, just cursed me and called off the wedding he had brought about.

Everything that was so beautiful between me and Cesar was falling apart like a wad of wet tissue. It seemed like I was marrying myself. I was putting in the effort. As of late, Cesar was a walking zombie. He didn't kiss the same. He didn't love the same. I should have known another woman was in the picture.

And now what was I going to do now that I knew there was a second woman in his life? What was I going to do now that I knew he in the arms of another woman, maybe a thin Mexican woman, with long black hair and a tight stomach? Sit there and cry? I refused! I'd just drink myself to sleep instead. That way I'd still have some kind of self dignity left.

I opened the cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Paul. Forget the cup. I pulled the cork off and poured the hot fire down my throat. I sucked a tooth as the sensation crawled down my throat and burned my windpipe. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a shadow slide across the wall. I swung around, the bottle swinging from my hand, my eyes darting back and forth trying to see whatever flew across the white wall. The heart in my chest began beating wildly against my ribs and I took a few steps back into the living room.

"Hello?" I asked, my voice shaking. I looked around for the pistol Cesar said he had hidden behind the vase of artificial roses. I ran my hand behind the vase sitting on a dusty wooden coffee table. Just then I remembered I'd put the gun in the closet because a visible gun seemed tacky and ghetto to me.

Thump. Thump.

I jumped in rhythm with the slight sound. It was almost like someone was coming down the stairs. I searched the living room, throwing pillows and picture frames. I needed something to protect myself with. Finally, I discovered a gun under the couch. I had known the pistol in the closet wasn't the only one Cesar had hidden. Suddenly, strong arms grabbed me from behind. I guessed it was a man because when I jammed my heel into their groin, they let go. I whirled around and aimed the pistol at them. Out of the shadows of my house, three others appeared. When I had calmed down a bit, I could see that there were two white men in gray suits and one black man in a black jogging outfit. I thought it was the Asian man I had kicked in the balls. I could tell because he was crying in the corner.

"Shut up, you cunt," the blonde white man commanded nonchalantly.

"Who the hell are you?" I screamed, feeling the fear and panic jumpstart in my heart. "How'd you get in my house?"

"First," the white man said putting a pair of glasses on his nose, "put the gun down."

"Are you crazy? No, I'm not putting the damn gun down! Not til you leave out of my house!"

The white man sighed and smiled. "There's no need in you waving that godforsaken thing in the air, sweetie. Cesar, you know him, right? He's your. . .love interest, yes?"

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Look, sweetie, I don't want to get my new suit dirty in your blood, okay? It cost a fortune. I want to do things nice and easy."

"What things? What are you talking about?"

"Cesar Vialpando is dead."

"WHAT!" I pulled the trigger. The bullet fired but missed the target.

The other white man and black man jumped on me, tackling me down the ground. I tried to fight, but I'd fallen so hard, the whole left side of my face had gone numb. A heavy knee sunk down into the middle of my back and my arms were tied behind my back, so they were useless to me. The blonde man knelt down, squatting like a Native in the forest.

"What do you mean Cesar is dead?" I shouted, tears of sorrow more than pain falling out of my eyes.

"Just as I said. He is dead. Now, I'll tell you what happened and what's going to happen to you, so you can brace yourself. But you have to be quiet, or I'll just shoot you right here. You promise to keep quiet?"

I sniffed snot into my nose and nodded.

The blonde man smiled, chapped lips revealing a crooked smile.

"Okay, honey. I'm Benjamin Forelli of the Forelli Mafioso Family. You've heard of the Leone Family, right?"

I nodded.

"Well, I killed them, all fifty-two of the bastards, with these hands." He lifted up the pale, seemingly cold hands. I hoped to God he wouldn't touch me with them.

"Why?" I whispered.

He shrugged. "I was tired of the sons of bitches. I was tired of being chased out of Liberty City. I was tired of being chased out of Vice. And it all lead me here. Here to the beautiful San Andreas. For months, I lived here. I watched how all the Lords ran their gangs. How they had everything under their thumb. The power was stupendous. It was all very clear who was in charge. Carl Johnson was in charge of Grove Street, no matter how very unorganized it was and still is. Wu Zi Mu is head of the triads, Lonnie Pham of Da Nang Boys. And Cesar Vialpando of Los..Los...whatever fuckin' wet back gang it is. I wanted that power, that control of everything and everybody around me. I wanted control of Liberty. So I drove all the way from Caligula's Palace in Las Venturas all the way to Marcos Bistro. There was a celebration of the assassination of my three brothers, something that I had known nothing about while I was away here. I bought the entire stock of C-4 bombs at 8-Ball's in Portland and Shoreshide Vale and I blew the whole fucking block to bits. I had originally planned only to blow up the resturant, but fire's contagious. I guess all the buildings on the block got infected with it." He giggled with that last sentence, holding his stomach.

"Who killed Cesar?" I asked.

"Who killed Cesar? I did, honey. I killed him! Well, indirectly I should say. I sent some of those headless chickens from the Ballers gang out. If your husband didn't want to get killed, he should have stayed in Mexico, making my my tacos and leather shoes. I would have been happy to stay in Italy,...but once again I was chased out!" He laughed again, allowing the other three men to join in this time.

My ears buzzed with laughter.

"Why you crying, baby?" he asked. He touched me with those icy cold fingers. It sent chills down my spaine so violent, I was ready to vomit.

He pulled an AK-47 out of a black leather bag I had not noticed before. My pulse quicken and I squirmed underneath the thick knee.

"Please! Please, don't shoot me! Don't kill me!" I begged, the tears now free flowing.

"Shhhhhhhhh...," he whispered as he cocked it and pumped the arm. He tilted the gun down and closed one eye. I felt him aiming it right between my eyes. "Shhhhhh...,baby. It'll be over soon."

I took in a deep breath and closed my eyes. "Please... Please, don't...Please..."

I heard the click of the safety being released with every inch of my body. All I saw was Cesar's face.

CLIIIIIIIIIIcckkkkk...

"BOSS!"

"Oh my fucking God, for a cunt's sake!"

I heard the gun hit the floor. Still, I refused to open my eyes.

"What?"

"I just got a call from Leeroy."

"Who the fuck is Leeroy?"

"Leeroy from the Ballers."

"And what the fuck did he say?"

"The man who was shot and killed in Little Mexico tonight was not Cesar Vialpando."

"What?" I heard his shoes scrape the carpet as he stood up. "What the fuck do you mean it's not him?"

"They shot a man that was with him... Not him."

The ear piercing sound of glass shattering made me jump under the pressure of the bent knee. But that was nothing compared the jump in my heart. Cesar was not dead!

"Boss, are you alright?"

"Am I alright? Am I alright? You little cunt! I ask you little bastards to do one fucking thing! One fucking thing! Kill the fucking wet back! How hard could it have been? Shoot his ass! Give him one right in the dome! He was damn near alone! His fucking gang is wiped out! I paid a lot of money to make sure the police were busy tonight! I could NOT have made it easier to kill the fuck-face! What THE FUCK DO YOU DO? You come to me and tell me that the motherfucker in the hospital is not him! Fuck NO, I'm not ALRIGHT, thanks."

There was a second of quiet. Only a second.

"Uhhhh, Boss."

"WHAT!"

The voice cleared its throat, obviously afraid for his life. "What do we do now?"

"What do we do now?" He paused. "We go to back to Vice."

"Why not Liberty?"

"Because...I want to play on my turf. Liberty isn't ready yet. The bastard is going to die, but this time I want him to walk to his death."

I heard the gun lift off the ground.

"But first...,"

The arm on the gun was pumped.

"We take care of her."

"BOSS, wait! We shouldn't kill her."

"Why not?"

"Because...if Cesar thinks she is dead he might not coming looking for you, making it so we'd have to come back on his turf to look for him. That gives him the upper hand-"

"But if we keep his bitch alive and with us, he'll look for her, follow our lead."

"Exactly, Boss."

"Uh-huh... Okay, I understand."

I opened my eyes and looked up at him. He was smiling down at me, his teeth yellow with garlic.

"The first time you say a word, I'll shoot you." He aimed the gun down at me and laughed. "Understand?"

I didn't get to tell him I understood before I was lifted, gagged, and blindfolded. The last thing I remembered was this heavy piece of something being dropped on my head and feeling warm blood trickle down my forehead before I passed out.