Evil Streets Media

True Crime Stories From America's Most Dangerous Streets

New York

Mafia Bloods REWRITTEN

Evil Streets Media • True Crime

VIDEO: Mafia Bloods.mov

REWRITTEN: 2026-05-12 20:13:08

SCRIPT 567 OF 686

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Yo, the city's changed up, nah mean, them streets, yo them streets different. In this game, family is everything, word. That's how LaCosa Nostra, the mob, they stayed running the New York underworld for decades straight, controlling everything. But yo, in this world right here, family ain't always enough when greed start circling like them vultures up top. The Zotola family, they know this better than anybody. They tight, tighter than most crews out here cause they gotta be. Silvestre, that's the pops, and his sons Salvatore and Anthony, they walking that thin line between the criminal game and the legit world, working both angles to stay ahead of everybody. Law enforcement got Silvestre on their radar as an associate with the Bonanno and Luchese families. And when you dealing with powerhouses like them, you need to roll deep, present that united front, feel me. The Zotolas, they all living near each other, locked down in a compound situation in Locust Point, the Bronx. Right next to the Locust Point Yacht Club, the spot's known as Zotola's Court. You see two plaques on them homes. One says our foundation is built from love, our strength keeps us together. The other one says our walls are built thick, our love for each other is thicker. Bottom line, if anybody thought they could roll up and take what's theirs, they was about to find out there's consequences. The Zotolas wasn't just talking that talk for show. They had plenty worth protecting. Silvestre wasn't just hustling in them streets. He was deep in illegal gambling operations, running them joker poker video games for the New York mob. These machines was strategically placed in everything, social clubs, bodegas, coffee shops, pulling in cash by the hundreds of thousands every single week. Silvestre wasn't just collecting that money neither. He was flipping that dirty cash into something bigger, real estate holdings. Over time, his investments grew into a forty-five million dollar empire throughout the Bronx. His portfolio, multifamily rental properties that kept that money flowing steady. Anthony, Silvestre's son, he was more than just watching from the sidelines in the family operation. He was in them trenches, helping manage the properties, collecting rent money, and running A and S Maintenance, a company co-owned by him and his brother Salvatore. With their ties to the Mafia structure, the Zotolas had protection. Nobody could touch them without dealing with the full force of LaCosa Nostra backing them. But Silvestre wasn't just relying on standard Mafia protection neither. He had major clout with Bonanno crime family boss Vincent Vinny Gorgeous Basciano. This man was known for his sharp intellect, his charm, and his cold ability to eliminate anybody who got in his way. Having Basciano as a close associate wasn't just an insurance policy, it was a damn fortress yo. It placed an invisible yet unbreakable layer of protection around the Zotola family, making sure nobody dared to challenge their empire. Imagine the shock that hit when Silvestre Zotola got caught slipping out of nowhere, a group of unknown attackers set their sights on him. One minute he just going about his business and the next he getting jumped on. They beat him mercilessly, leaving him bruised and bloodied up. But that was just the beginning of what would become a chilling series of events, word. On December twenty-seventh, two thousand seventeen, only days after Christmas, things take a far darker turn yo. Three men break into Silvestre's home with the kind of brutality you only see in them movies. They slam him in the head with a gun, stab him multiple times, and slash his throat open like it's nothing. They leave him for dead, convinced he's a goner. But Silvestre tougher than that, he survives it. Call it a Christmas miracle. But there's no joy in this story, only questions stacking up. His attackers vanish into the night, and the Zotola family is left wondering who the hell is behind the hit and why they targeted their patriarch like that. By the summer of two thousand eighteen, Silvestre recovered and back on his grind. On June twelfth, two thousand eighteen, he standing in front of one of his properties in the Bronx when he notices a suspicious figure across the street. This guy moving too slow and too deliberate, and before Silvestre knows it, the situation turns deadly. He face to face with a hitman, and this time there's no mistaking it. This man is there to finish the job for real. The hitman got a gun drawn, and the only thing between him and Silvestre is a few feet of concrete. But Silvestre not some easy target neither. He shouts don't come any closer. And in one smooth motion pulls his own piece out. He unloads several shots, and the hitman tries to return fire, but his gun jams up. It's like a scene out of an action flick yo. The hitman scrambles, running back to the getaway car where the driver waiting, eager to peel out. Both men get arrested shortly after the botched attempt went down. It turns out they Ron Kaby and Hyman Ace Ross, known gangsters with deep ties to the Bloods. At least now the Zotolas have a name. But it's still far from clear why the Bloods have set their sights on Silvestre like this. The family scrambles to figure out who's pulling the strings behind these attacks. But just when they think they might have time to regroup and put out some feelers on the streets, they get hit again. Another wave of violence comes crashing down on them, leaving the family more uncertain than ever about who trying to take them out and why. On July eleventh, two thousand eighteen, Salvatore Zotola had just stepped out of his minivan in front of his house in Locust Point when a car with New Jersey plates cruised by. Before he even had time to react, the passenger side window rolled down, and the gunmen started unloading rounds at him. Salvatore takes a hit to the chest, dropping to the ground and rolling behind the van for cover. But the hitman isn't rattled at all. He steps out of the car with his arms fully extended, his gun trained on Salvatore. The guy calm as hell, not missing a beat as Salvatore scrambles, doing everything he can to dodge the barrage of bullets coming at him. The hitman moves in closer, determined to finish the job right there. One of the bullets grazes Salvatore's head, skimming his skull but not breaking through it. The impact is so hard it knocks him into another state of shock. It was like lights out, Salvatore recalls, I tried standing but I couldn't, I fell to the curb, I couldn't run. Rolling was the best I could do. His friends and a relative yell at him to stay down, knowing the situation still hot. Salvatore, barely clinging to consciousness, gives them instructions. He tells them to grab twelve hundred dollars in cash stashed in his sock so the assassins can't get their hands on it. Then, with all the strength he can muster up, he tells them to relay a final message to his loved ones. Tell my wife, my kids and my father that I love them. Miraculously, despite taking seven bullets, one to the head, another to the chest, and one more to his hand, Salvatore Zotola somehow manages to survive. Much like his father Silvestre who survived a brutal stabbing and slashing, Salvatore beats the odds once again. While he recovering in the hospital, he surrounded by the love and concern of his family, but there's a catch. His brother Anthony can't make it through. I got a soccer game with my kids, he says, brushing off the gravity of the situation. But even with the family gathered around, one question hangs heavy in the air. Who behind these attacks? After his recovery, Salvatore sits down with Anthony, asking him if he has any idea where all of this is coming from. He didn't know either, Salvatore says later, his voice laced with confusion. The Zotolas are completely clueless, unable to pinpoint who wants them gone or why this happening. After everything that happened, they continue moving through the city as if nothing changed. They don't put up any extra precautions, no added security, no increased awareness. It's almost like they living in denial, but maybe there's more to it. Perhaps this is because despite their connections to the criminal world, they not really in the middle of the violence that's usually associated with organized crime. Their players on the money-making side of things, running their businesses and investments and staying out of the bloodshed. They not made men, just associates, operating in the shadows, but never truly at the forefront of the action. They built their empire on concrete foundation of cash and property, thinking money and Mafia connections could shield them from harm. But what they didn't understand is that in the streets, there's always somebody younger, hungrier, and willing to take bigger risks. The Bloods coming for them represented a new era, a shift in the power dynamics of the underworld. By late two thousand eighteen, the investigation into the attacks intensified. Federal agents and local police connected the dots, tracing the violence back to a conspiracy that ran deeper than anybody expected. It wasn't just random street violence or territorial disputes. This was calculated, orchestrated, deliberate. The Bloods had a specific reason for targeting the Zotola family, and it all came down to money, territory, and respect on the streets. Multiple arrests followed as authorities dismantled the network behind the hits. Ron Kaby, Hyman Ace Ross, and other conspirators faced serious federal charges. The investigations revealed connections to higher-ups in the Bloods organization who had ordered the hits, trying to muscle their way into the Zotola's lucrative operations. The family that once thought their Mafia ties made them untouchable found themselves thrust into a war they never asked for, facing enemies from a completely different world. Despite surviving multiple assassination attempts, the Zotolas' empire would never be the same. Silvestre eventually faced his own legal troubles, convicted on racketeering and gambling charges, serving time for his role in the mob's operations. The compound at Zotola's Court, once a symbol of family unity and protection, became a reminder of how quickly power can crumble when you're caught between two warring worlds. The legacy of the Mafia Bloods conflict tells a story that goes beyond just violence and criminal enterprise. It's a tale about the changing landscape of organized crime, where traditional Mafia protection means less and less against hungry new organizations willing to spill blood for control. The Zotola family's near-fatal encounters, their miraculous survivals, and their ultimate downfall illustrate how even those with deep mob connections can't escape the consequences of operating in the shadows. In the end, the Mafia Bloods saga reminds us that in the criminal underworld, loyalty fades, alliances shift, and yesterday's untouchable empire becomes tomorrow's cautionary tale. The plaques on their homes, speaking of love and thick walls, couldn't protect them from the new world order rising up from the streets. It stands as a brutal monument to the end of an era, where old-school mob protection crumbled under the pressure of new-age street violence, and where family, no matter how tight-knit, can't always shield you from the consequences of the life you choose.