Tha Doggfather

By Gilda Bolton

This novel is about Tha Doggfather, a violent drug dealer, in crime, wealth, and gang activity. Eric was the son of the doggfather, CB. At a young age, Eric shortly lived with his grandmother. After losing her, he had no choice but to live with his father and younger brother, Shorty. Growing up, Eric had trauma from not having his mother and losing his grandmother. Years later, he eventually grew up and turned into a relentless criminal from being influenced by his drug lord father. Later on, he began raising interest from ripping off elite members of drug distribution. Tha doggfather was untouchable, and they stalked him every way they could to try to take over the doggfather empire.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Apr 28, 2022
• ISBN: 9781662456978

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Tha Doggfather

Gilda Bolton

Copyright © 2022 Gilda Bolton

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING

Conneaut Lake, PA

First originally published by Page Publishing 2022

ISBN 978-1-6624-5696-1 (pbk)

ISBN 978-1-6624-5697-8 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 1

The most disappointing child ever yet incredibly brave, Eric Marlon’s mind whirled with bright dreams for the future. It was clear he was going someplace, always being mischievous, staring into space. If he wasn’t chasing the girls with spiders as a young kid, there would always be the neighborhood kids sitting around an evening fire, where he would be telling wild tales, and laughter would ring out constantly. The mood changed when they heard a big, large figure dragging her feet, the swishing of her thighs, the loud roar of her voice—his grandmother. A screen door would slam open.

Eric Marlon! Boy, you better get in here.

Eric didn’t shudder. Matter of fact, he stood tall straight up like a soldier. We all scrambled off the edge of the porch and ran home. Eric was of a very young age when his grandmother felt it would be best she took him in her care and to remain in her custody. His mom had fallen on hard times, and he loved his grandmother. She was a big, gentle-hearted, exceptionally goldenlike creature with soft brown eyes and a stern voice that scared the kids in the neighborhood. She was mean; they would tell Eric. She just didn’t allow no bullshit, no running throughout the house, no jumping on the furniture, and especially no fighting.

Time moved on, growing up, and now living in the big city with flashing lights and traffic nonstop with lots of people. A journey into his future trying not to look back into his past. The painful loss of his grandmother years later had left him null and void, even panic-stricken because she was someone he could always depend on. But time, like they say, heals all wounds.

CB was a god-fearing gangster. There was speculation he was involved in mass murders. And no one dared to side cross or challenge him for fear of repercussions. Over the years, some of his property deals went sour, but by no means was he a poor man. He was a very rich man. Everything he wanted went his way mainly because of his wealth and power, a reputation of gambling and drug deals. A fascination with greed and dishonor, bloody murders, the women who lusted after him.

Eric, whom he called Sonny, who lived with his mom and grandma at a very young age, was his oldest son. Eric, influenced and highly esteemed by his father’s power, yearned for the authoritative position of power and control of the corrupt business. He was tough, and he bonded with his younger brother, Shorty, who also dreamed of advancing and transitioning into the process of the regime on power of appointment. Neither man had much experience but definitely engaged into violence and would cut your ear off with a quickness, which was no surprise. Their mother was no longer around. The marriage had its ups and downs. All her rights and liabilities belonged to her husband, and Shorty, being her baby boy, could do no wrong. He was the high point keeping the family in control. He was a skilled marksman, handling any type of weapon and practiced regularly, dealing with details, making arrangements.

A year earlier, Sonny had been drinking quite heavily while driving in his vehicle. After having an altercation with his female companion (he was also known for beating women), he crashed into a car, leaving the occupant dead, head chopped off lying by the roadside. There was a police trial, but CB being the ruthless person with his acquired reputation, Eric got off scot-free, leaving the courthouse smiling. His opponents sought revenge. Meanwhile, cops outside were taking down everyone’s license plates. A suspended sentence. No justice! is what one of the vigilantes yelled out. We will get revenge. And this is what impacted the battle of violence and bloodshed, the bullet-ridden revolt that unified into a tough, corrupt organization.

Cameras were flashing outside the courthouse when Shorty arrived at the police station, pulling up to the curb. Sonny and the mobsters got into the back seat, reaching for their cigars and snorting cocaine. It was a breezy, cold morning as the car pulled into the driveway, where the smell of fresh coffee brewing filled the morning air. Shorty shut down the engine as he and the rest of the mobsters entered the restaurant. Some of the guys were already waiting, seated with a few females eating and drinking at the bar, while cigar smoke and Hennessy aroma filled the air. Sonny folded his arms across his chest.

Listen up, I’ve scheduled this meeting to assess our money problems. I’ve been informed there’s a huge bundle arriving tonight. We’re going to prepare and head straight down to the turnpike and overpower them son of a bitches. We are going to take what is ours.

Simon’s phone rings. He informs them one of the guys had been shot early that morning while leaving his hotel. He muttered to Sonny, This is unacceptable. Payback is gonna be a motherfucker. We will have to beef up surveillance. They’re watching our every move. Right now, I need a shit, shower, and a shave. Meet me at my place, tonight around 10:00 p.m.

Negrita was a tall, sexy, full-busted black woman with long legs, big booty, and pearly white teeth. As Sonny opened the front door, she reached inside his jacket, embracing her body close to his chest.

Baby, I missed you.

He smiled, and she didn’t have to say another word. He picked her up and headed straight to their bedroom. Her doll-like frame was around five feet, six inches, and her olive-caramel tanned skin tone complemented his muscular, bare-chested physique. There was no need to lock the door. The room was filled with hot passion. She had missed her man, and tonight was a celebration of making up for lost time. Candles flickering, soft jazz music in the background, and all that was left was the whimpering of a startled cry.

Five hundred thousand was to be the drop-off. The mobsters were parked in a vacant lot between two tall buildings. A security guard had made his final rounds, and there were no police vehicles in sight. As the silhouette came closer to the deserted parking lot, shots rang out like the Fourth of July. The money was picked up, and the driver jumped into the vehicle, gunned the engine, spinning out of the parking area.

CB was in his white dashiki robe, glass of Remy Martin, smoking a long pipe, reading the morning New York Times about last night’s raid and how the police were seeking the culprits for the murder, but to no avail. There were no clues of last’s night robbery. Shorty and Sonny in dark trench coats beamed with pride about the slaughter and tragic murder. It had been such an easy takeover they had landed.

Aggressively and violently is the way it should be! shouted Shorty.

Hold on! Hold on! said CB.

Physical evidence never ever should be left at the scene. Covering our every track. Definitely there are no witnesses. You’ve reached the level, Shorty. CB narrowed his eyes and looked at his younger son, Shorty. They exchanged a toast with a shot of Remy Martin. Laughter and hand clapping filled the room. Shorty had matured, flared up his chest, blinked his eye. He had finally made partnership in the organization. Next to his big brother, Sonny, he felt justified and knew he deserved everything his father had given approval too. They hugged and embraced.

Money is not the problem. It’s just the expansion we need in order to increase our profits and keep the fortune in tack. The FBI is on our jocks, Charlie Daniels, the head honcho of the police department, so therefore, we need to devise a plan that will intercede as a solid plan on behalf of our actions. And I have the right contacts that’s going to get the job done for the right price. We’ll make the first payment after he brings us back a cutoff ear or finger.

Laughter rang throughout the room. To prepare the guys for the next big shipment, the operation would allow fast money to flow right into their hands. Things started to get heated really fast. The news headliner, Gangster Found Hanging Outside Local Orchard Missing Both Ears and All His Fingers. The FBI began staking out CB’s residence, but he was well aware, having been informed of the layouts and scouting. He had an inside source. Nothing surprised him. Sonny knew he was being followed. He dominated total control of his situations and there was no compromise. Everyone had a role to play and whether you were down or not, each individual was like a chess pawn in the