Philly Home Invasions: Philly Home Invasions, #1

By Victor Berry

Once a Prominent drug dealer in the streets of brotherly love, Cion's rise came to a halt when the FEDS nabbed his man. Instead of thuggin' it out he closed down his illegal enterprise, found work as a certified chef, and the love of his life. Ten years of dedication to his employer, Hes laid off. Faced with a family to feed, countless bills and a label slave wife, his accounts are bleeding dry. with no income and a failing economy, a connection with an old friend seems to bring him a sign of hope as he Forrays into thi new venture. deception quickly surfaces in his old circle, a crooked mayor is head huntin' him and everyone he loves... Cion quickly remembers, There is no honor amongst thieves. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Victor Berry
• Release date: Feb 7, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215394670

Victor Berry

First, I would like to thank The Most Gracious, The Most Merciful, Allah for allowing me to be alive today able to put this ink on paper. My Wife, Gianni, who has stood by my side through it all. My Daughter & Cover Model, CiCi, thank you for the cover shot baby girl and being exactly who u were meant to be. My Lil Angel & daughter, Shay-Shay, don't play about me. That's my heart. Mya, my niece who keeps me grounded & in touch with the world, without her I'd be running a turtle race. Whenever everybody else is moving slowly, she goes for me. Thank You for everything. Shar, thank you for putting the final touches on the book, for bringing everything to light, and being a tremendous asset to the family. Congratulations on Your Degree. Nas graced the cover, continuing to rise above the everyday circumstances we faced as black men. My sister Tosha, My mom Carmen, those two have been down for me since day one. All my guys who were stomping for me, Twine, ManBoy, Bump, Slink, Kiz, Will, Matt, Nef also played his part in the making of the cover. Quil, Lil Slammer, Zay, Roco, Smelly, Nitty,Big Homie Tank, and North Philly Chaddy who are there whenever I call. RIP CoCo, u gone but never forgotten big homie. RIP Fat Herb, Uncle Tone and Jamie. If I forgot you, it's all love or it must not have been enough room.

Book preview

Table of Contents

Philly Home Invasions

Chapter 1: Terminated

Chapter 2: The Mayor

Chapter 3: Breaking & Entering

Chapter 4: Homo-Thug

Chapter 5: Damn I Love 'Dem Strippers

Chapter 6: L.A. Boyz

Chapter 7: Pawn Move

Chapter 8: Lurkin, Two Days Later

Chapter 9: Slippin'

Chapter 10: Head Over Heels

Chapter 11: Blackmailed

Chapter 12: Loose Ends

Chapter 13: Blood Money

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About the Author

Philly Home Invasions

Once a prominent drug dealer in the City of Brotherly Love, Cion was on his way to the top. One day, his best friend Kalif is picked up by the FEDS and Cion learns they are lurking around every corner. Instead of sticking around and continuing his illegal enterprise, he finds work as a Certified Chef as well as the love of his life. After ten years of dedication to his employer, he's laid off. Suddenly faced with a family to feed, countless bills, and a label slave wife with a bad spending habit, his accounts are bleeding dry. With no prospects and no income during a pandemic, Cion needs a quick come up before everything he's worked hard to maintain disappears, including his wife. But a connection with an old friend and a new idea for a hustle that can bring him just what he needs

surfaces, and it might be too good to say no...

As Cion forays into this new venture, a life changing event makes him ask himself, just how much is he willing to pay to get back on top? With deception in his circle and the mayor’s secret thugs not too far behind, Cion learns that there is no honor among thieves.

Has he gone too far this time? Can he escape the streets with his family and his life, or will his last home invasion be his own?

Prologue

––––––––

The purring from the Audi A7 came to a halt. Cion killed the engine and skipped out onto the street looking like new money. Taking a few steps towards the pavement, a familiar face he had not seen in years sat on the stoop across from his stash house. The house itself sat in the center of Cantrell Street in South Philadelphia. One of many Cion and his partner had purchased since the start of their operation.

Cion saw dollar signs, a means to provide for his family, not race, nor occupation. So, when opportunity presented itself, he took it. Moving closer to the house, he kept an eye on the man. With each step Cion took, he became more somber. Only feet away, the man got up and started walking in his direction. Cion's antennas went up, his instincts going off alarmingly. He knew this man and their last encounter wasn’t what you would call a good one. By the end of their meeting, the man had found himself sleep, kissing the dirty sidewalk with a black eye, bruised ego, empty pockets, less his jewelry, gun, and car keys in front Steve's bar out Southwest Philly. Cion scanned the block; he had to know if the man came alone or if he had backup. He wouldn't have a problem going head up. He didn't see anyone else. This made him relax but only to a certain degree. Cion had long ago left the streets behind, he was now a nine to five working man, at least he used to be, but he never forgot how to keep his guard up.

What’s up, Cion? That was messed up how you left me out there in the street.

Come on, Doe. You can't still be on that time after all these years! You put cha'self out there like a fuck nigga. You ain't move like a real nigga supposed to. You was on crumb time. Cion asserted, reaching the stairs, ready to make his move.

How the hell did he know where my stash spot was? It gotta be deeper, someone put him on me. He couldn't have followed me. I'm too cautious of that. Reaching the top step, an unpleasant feeling overcame him. He began reaching in his pocket for his gun. That's when he heard the cocking of Doe's .45 Beretta Tom Cat as he turned to face him.

There's no need for us to take it there. If you wanted cha stuff back all you had to do was come correct and live up to ya word. I looked for you, I didn't know where you went; nobody could find you.

Shut da fuck up. I'm fully woke now, so is my fuckin' bullets! And stop reaching for that gun behind ya back before I put cha blood on that peep hole. I'm coming up. Doe explained. His hand shaky, the gun aimed high at Cion's head. Turn back around and face the door! Cion spun around, next feeling the barrel nudging the back of his

head as Doe stripped him of his gun. He kept a short arm, held his gun tight, then lowered it to Cion's back. He tucked Cion's RL .40 handgun into his own waistline, patted him down, and took his money.

So, you gon' jam me now?

This is only the beginning of what's about to happen to you. How did you think I felt when you left me in front the bar? You embarrassed me in front of them women, they put it on Youtube... The world saw it. How da fuck you fix that? You can't! All I can do is kill ya punk ass.

Who put you up to this? This not cha line of work. Doe, you don't have the brains or smarts to move on me by ya'self! So,who is it?

Pay back a bitch, ain't it? You have bigger problems than me. You pissed some people off. Where you fuck up at... I'm not here to rob you, I'm here to help retrieve some items you took that don't belong to you. Now turn around, shut da fuck up, and knock on the door. I 'on't want to hear no more of that fly talk either. Facing the door, Cion tapped lightly. Wondering who it could be inside his house. He thought about taking Doe, he wasn't cut like that and could tell by his shaky voice that he was scared. Seconds later the door opened; before Cion could make a move, a sharp pain hit the back of his head. Darkness suddenly snatched him; he fell forward, his body never touching the porch. He fell right into Punisher's arms and was dragged inside.

Doe looked around making sure no one saw what happened. From what he could tell, no one paid them any attention. Sitting back inside a Pontiac GTO, an unidentified man watched everything from a half a block away on twenty-first street. Well... Well... Well, if it isn't Mr. Sticky Fingers, or should I call you clepto? Buttons asked a sleeping Cion, then laid a powerful smack on his face bringing him back to life. Cion awoke, his eyes instantly roaming the room. He tried jumping out of his seat only to realize he was bound and gagged. He didn't remember where he was or how he had gotten there. It came to him all at once. Doe Boy! Set me up!

Cion looked around in a panic. His eyes settled on him across the room. There he was, Doe Boy, sitting in between two figures with hoods over their heads. Because of the lighting, he couldn't make out many details. He could tell they were both women from the silhouettes as well as the sniffles and cries. The light got brighter as he adjusted

his eyes. Doe saw his attention now on him and snatched the hoods off, Cion's heart dropping into his stomach at the sight in front of him.

PHILLY HOME INVASION:

A Vic Berry Tale

Chapter 1: Terminated

Hey Cion, I was looking all over for you. I figured you were probably ready to go home to the wife and kids, his supervisor said, forcing a smile. Cion put the code in to punch out for the night. He had worked at the Hilton Garden Inn for upwards of ten years as a chef. An opportunity, a safe opportunity, to take care of his family arose like a phoenix from the ashes and he had taken it. Doug, the man standing in front of him was his boss, nice guy for the most part but all Cion could see was that he was being too nice. He was nervous. Something was up.

Yeah, I’m about to get out of here. He said suspiciously eyeing his boss. Did you need something? Did someone call out again? Doug seemed to shrink inside of himself at the question.

No, nothing like that but I do need to talk to you about your hours. He replied, his voice shakier that Cion was used to. What’s up with this guy? Cion thought. My hours? I already work sixty hours a week, what else could you want from me? Oh, maybe they want me to stop picking up so much overtime, niggas must be getting jealous.

Why don’t you follow me to my office? I don’t want anyone in our business!

Cion looked around.

There’s no one back here but you and me. Cion was becoming more wary by the minute. What’s going on Doug?

Just follow me will ya? Cion walked out behind Doug and follow him into his office. Doug let him go through the door first and mumbled something about being sorry about all of this. He closed the door behind him and took a typhoon of a deep breath.

Ok, lay it on me.

Here’s how it is Cion... Why is he calling me Cion suddenly like we’re friends? Cion’s alarms were going off. Cion was puzzled, he hadn't done anything wrong, he didn't get high, and he recently taken a drug test, just a few days ago to be exact. Maybe something happened. No, my family would have called. It must be a raise or a

promotion for all the long hours I put in, and the good reviews I get the hotel. He ruminated, taking a seat across from Doug’s chair. Walking over to his desk, Doug continued to stammer quietly to himself. Almost rehearsing what he was going to say next. He had never done this before; he now felt their meeting wouldn't have a good outcome for him.

Doug, what is this about? You are beating around the bush, procrastinating, it’s making me suspicious. Doug's face went sour. If he was shrinking into himself before he positively disappeared now.

We're gonna have to let you g. He offered quietly. Let me go...? For what? Did I do something wrong?

No. It's nothing of the sort. Business is declining, there's been a major budget cut. Covid is killing us Cion. We've passed the salary cap and the bosses want me to make room. I didn't want to do this - you're the first of many to go. But if I don't do it, not only will I not have a job, but the hotel will also have to close. It’s the pandemic. I'm sorry, Cion.

First of all, stop saying my name like you fuckin' know me so well! I gave this place ten years of my life. I slaved in here, made you guys my second family. I never missed a single day or came in late without having a serious problem. I busted my ass, you just gon' let me go?! Why couldn't you let those people you hired a few weeks ago leave? I got seniority over most people here. I was here before you came along!

It wasn't my decision, Doug lied. He was squirming in his seat waiting for this confrontation to be over. You know I would have kept you on board, you’re my main man, my go to guy. I'm sorry... There's nothing I can do. You make double if not more than most of the lower people working here - more than the new hires. You damn sure make more than I do.

I'm not gon' be making more than anybody after today. How the hell am I supposed to take care of and feed my family, huh? How am I gon pay my bills? I can't go back to the streets! Cion snapped, raising his voice.

Calm down. I will make sure you receive a severance package; thirty-eight weeks. You can also apply for unemployment. There won’t be any pushback from us. I'll give you my personal recommendation, you can use me a reference when you apply for a new job, and I'll assist you in any help you may need. You're an outstanding man Cion...Cion. I'm sad to see you go, but I know you will succeed in whatever you decide to do next. I feel just horrible about this. When things pick up, I promise, you will be the first person I call to get your job back with the same pay.

Can you put that in writing? Cion replied. I can't do that, Cion. Doug said regretfully.

Then you can't call me Cion, and you surely can't make me any damn promises either. This is some bullshit! Cion growled. He stormed out the office, not bothering to give them another minute of his life and slammed the door so hard it swung back open, nearly breaking the hinges off. Doug realized he needed to use the restroom after Cion’s explosion. He didn’t know that he found him scary until that moment. He had never seen him so angry since he had become the supervisor. He was happy Cion left and didn't come back. Cion went to clear his locker, bewildered how they had let him go instead of all the people they had been bringing in for the past month. He wasn't about to lay down, he had worked too hard to build the life and family he had. Not once did he ever think he had lost his job for no apparent reason, and he didn't know how to break the bad news to his wife. She maintained a high position at her workplace, but him being out of work would not go over easy, he knew this with certainty.

Weeks Later...

Cion had submitted applications online and in person in abundance. He tried networking through associates: people he had done business with, friends, and family members but in the end, he came up short of a job. He had yet to receive a severance package or an unemployment check though he had applied weeks ago. His checking and savings account were sitting okay but each week that went by his balance got lower and lower. Even with his chef qualifications, with the restaurants all shutting down due to the pandemic, he found no work. Cion didn't want to go back to the streets. He didn't want to sell drugs, there were too many uncertainties in the game, entirely too risky. At thirty-three years old, he had a lot more at stake than he did when he was younger. His mind drifted off to the conversation he had with Money Bags and Kalif about the new hustle, home invasions. With no work and no other options, his back

got closer and closer to the wall. He was thinking of taking his chances, ready to try his hand. Why not? he thought. Take it after they made it. One thing was for certain: he wouldn't limit himself to just drug dealers. He wanted it all; whoever was getting at a real dollar, legit or illegal - he was coming for his slice of the pie, and he knew just where to start.

Pushing his Audi up MacDade Boulevard, in deep thought, Cion went back and forth between the choices before him; there weren't many. Cion was an only child as far as he knew; he had never met his father. His mother was nowhere to be found, had chosen heroin over him when he was only six years old. From then until eighteen years of age, he had gone through so many foster homes he had lost count. The one thing that kept him going was the consistency of a kitchen at each of his new homes. He would make his foster family’s breakfast and dinner as often as he could to try