Page 3 of Precious Legacy
“Why is it always the good-looking ones who are assholes?” A feminine voice asks, head resting on my shoulder as I watch Roman leave. I know it’s Haven Gambino from the signature perfume she always wears, and it makes me smile.
I sigh, spinning around and handing the half-drunk bottle of champagne to my best friend. She takes a swig from the bottle before handing it back to me, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
“Beats me.”
“What’s he doing here, anyway?” she frowns.
“The same thing everyone else is here for.”
“I meanthere.What did he want this time?”
“Haven,” I warn.
“Lani,” she parrots, punching a fist on her hip for emphasis.
I groan, knowing there’s no fighting her stubbornness. We’ve been best friends for so long that she knows me inside and out. She’s also the only one who knows what happened between Roman and I, and how much I detest talking about it. But that doesn’t stop her from pushing my buttons to get what she wants.
She’s been by my side throughout. “If you hate him, so do I.”That’s what she said to me five years ago, and that’s what makes Haven the best kind of friend, because even though we should all be close, the rift between Roman and I stretches to Haven, too.
“I guess he wanted to torment me some more. Don’t worry, I told him where to stick it.”
Haven casts an inquisitive glare over my shoulder. “Hmm… whatever you said didn’t work. He’s still got his eye on you.”
I refrain from turning around, knowing that if heislooking in this direction, he’ll know we’re talking about him. I don’t want to give him that satisfaction.
“I’m not even surprised,” I scoff. Nothing seems to affect the guy, no matter how nice or brutal I am about things. Roman Genovese has no feelings; no heart. I’d do well to remember that. “Wanna get out of here?”
Haven nods, beaming a bright Hollywood smile at me. Looping her arm through mine, we turn together and head towards the patio doors lining the back of the room.
As soon as the fresh air hits me, I tuck around the corner and lean against the cool brick wall. The chilly night air wraps around me, soothing the heat crawling up my neck. Haven joins me, throwing her head back and letting her long brown hair brush up against the brickwork.
“How are things with your dad?” she asks me.
I close my eyes, pushing away my resurfacing anger. “Still rough,” I answer, handing her the champagne bottle. Things have actually been worse than that, but I don’t elaborate.
“I’m sorry, Lani. But great news about the academy!” She takes three large gulps, finishing the bottle off before waving it in the air. She’s the only person I’ve told about my acceptance into the NYPD Training Program. Telling my dad would result in more arguments, and I’m just not ready for that.
As for my brother, I’m in two minds whether to tell him. He could react exactly like I expect our dad to, or he could be the complete opposite. That’s the thing about Alvaro, I don’t know which side I’m going to get from him. If I told him, I’d have to tell everyone else, so this secret between Haven and I has to stay just that.
Pulling out a blunt, she lights it up and hands it my way.
“Let’s fuck this party off,” she suggests.
My heart grows three sizes for my best friend. She never fails to cheer me up, even when I don’t feel like I deserve it.
I give her the most sincere and appreciative smile, eyes burning up slightly. “I won’t say no.”
TWO
The strobe lights of Club Palma are a stark contrast to the opulent venue Alvaro’s old man rented out earlier tonight. Instead of being surrounded by silent stares and questioning looks, we’re enveloped by sweaty bodies rubbing up against one another and music that pounds away in my brain. Here, I feel more like myself. I don’t have to fake niceties with families or shake hands with corrupt suits. I can just talk shit with my buddies and throw back shots until I pass out.
The vibrant music from the DJ booth pounds a rhythmic beat in my chest while the bass of Nicki Minaj’s ’Super Freaky Girl’ plays so loudly it drowns out the arguing between Haldon and Alvaro about who has the best car. I’d weigh in with my own opinion if I could be bothered, but my attention is firmly fixed on something else.
Someoneelse.
My gaze tours the raven-haired vixen currently dancing like nobody's watching her. My eyes follow the sway of her hips, the dip and curve of her spine. I wasn’t lying when I told her she looks good in red. That silk clings to her like a second skin,and it should be a fucking crime how good she looks in it. The way her eyes close as she throws her head back and laughs at something Haven says has me readjusting myself. There’s just something so intoxicating about her; how she commands a room but doesn’t realize it. How she loses herself, her inhibitions, and doesn’t give one single fuck who’s watching.
I’m watching, though.I’m always watching.Whether she knows it or not, Alanis Bonanno captivated me from the moment we met. As kids, we were inseparable. As teenagers, we were suffocating in each other’s presence. And as adults, I’m just as obsessed with her as I was all those years ago. It’s no wonder she steals my attention every time we’re in the same room.
