Page 31 of Precious Legacy
We all head to the VIP rooms on the top floor. It’s probably my favorite part about this place; having the privacy to conductbusiness and talk freely, while being able to see the entire floor below.
I take a seat in our regular room, the largest of them all. The bartender mixes our usuals while we all kick back and relax. There’s very few moments we get to chill out—even if it’s just for five minutes—because work calls to us constantly. When I first started helping my dad, I quickly realized how much time and dedication was required to make The Five successful. And now that my father is slowly shifting the responsibility over to me, it takes up even more of my time. The sooner I get some soldiers to run around for me, the better.
The bartender passes me my drink of choice; bourbon neat with two ice cubes. I swirl the amber liquid around the glass while observing Alvaro and Haldon doing the same thing.
“You know this is going to start a war?” Haldon sighs. Though his words should be filled with warning, he’s not at all worried.
“Maybe Federov and his minions should have thought about that before overstepping,” I grit out. The anger over their audacity starts to reappear, and I’m itching to get my hands bloody all over again. That is, until the door to the VIP suite swings open, laughter filling the air as Haven and Alanis stumble inside.
Irritation doesn’t even reach me when I lock eyes with my tempestuous vixen, a smile curling my lips. “Hello, Presh.”
THIRTEEN
Avoidance is something I’ve become good at. Avoiding my dad, avoiding telling my family about my acceptance into the Police Academy… hell, I’ve even managed to avoid the Ravenite for the last five years. This week, I’ve gotten pretty good at avoiding Roman, which has been easy since he’s made no attempt to contact me.
But when I saw that damn keychain, I was yanked back to that moment on Chelsea Pier, when we laughed like idiots. Because that’s what we were; idiots.
Idiots in love.
I caved after seeing the damn thing sitting on my bedside table for the fifteenth time. I’m not proud about being the first to reach out after our argument. Though I haven’t said the words—because I suck at apologies—I’m woman enough to accept when I’m in the wrong. It’s partly why I’m here tonight. Roman responded to my text with a request to meet him here, and while my self-preservation was screaming at me not to, Haven’s encouragement was louder. The least I can do is put what happened between us all those years ago in the past. It’s about time I actually moved forward with my life.
“Damn girl!” she catcalls as I stand outside the last place I ever thought I’d be. “You look killer!”
“Thanks,” I murmur, feeling heat rush to my cheeks. I’m still unsure whether the outfit I’ve chosen will attract the wrong attention. Despite the fall chill that laces the air, I’ve chosen a black, figure-hugging dress. One that stops mid-thigh but has a small slit running up one side. The thin straps criss-cross over my shoulders and back, held securely by mesh sleeves attached under the arms. Usually I wouldn’t be so self-conscious about what I’m wearing, always opting for something I feel good in and looks good on me. But thisplace is where my nightmares originate from.Thisis the place where my heart broke and my world shattered.Thisis where I lost myself.
Smoothing down my dress, I look around nervously. Despite the positive encouragement from my best friend, I’m still anxious about coming here tonight. Not just because I’m seeing Roman for the first time since our argument, but because I know what happens here. Places like The Ravenite always make me nervous because of the lack of control over alcohol consumption. Here, there are no limits to how drunk people can get. As long as they’re paying, nobody bats an eyelid.
But it’s like Haven said earlier; I can’t avoid the place forever.
Easier said than done.
“Come on.” Haven beams that signature Hollywood smile, grabbing me by the arm and redirecting us to the front door.
Baz, the security guard, gives us a curt nod of recognition as we approach. He doesn’t smile. The guy hardly ever smiles, and we’ve known him long enough to count on one hand how many times we’ve actually seen it.
He’s worked for my Uncle Hunter for years and is a trusted honorary member of the Gambino family. So, when he holds thedoor open for us, I’m not at all surprised to hear his grumbled warning. “You two better behave.”
Haven laughs guiltily, rolling her eyes. “When have I not?”
Baz raises his brow in accusation and we all know what that means. Haldon and Haven grew up with him by their side, under his protection until they both turned eighteen. It’s fair to say we gave him a run for his money when we got up to mischief. So much so that he’d probably be gray if it weren’t for his lack of hair. More than once, he caught us breaking out of the Gambino’s place after telling our parents we were having slumber parties, or refused us entry into The Ravenite, despite our desperate pleas. I can’t say I’ve learned from all my mistakes, but I’ve definitely grown up.
“Get in,” he huffs out impatiently, gesturing for us to move past him. “Before I change my mind.”
Haven shoves me inside the club without a second thought, and the heat that immediately hits us is stifling. The scent of expensive whiskey and cigars taints the air, and the soundtrack Blood//Water by Grandson pumps the atmosphere with the heady scent of desire.
Girls wrap around poles, sliding their oiled bodies up and down while wearing nothing but lacy underwear that leaves little to the imagination. Similarly clad waitresses saunter between tables, handing out drinks to suited businessmen that unsurprisingly can’t keep their hands to themselves. The whole place is crawling with lecherous men, their deep laughs and sordid conversations carrying over the music.
I shudder as we walk past a group of suits and stuck up college kids. Haven must notice, because I feel her hand slip into mine, offering me her silent reassurance. She gives it a comforting squeeze as we ascend the staircase to the VIP level, and I respect the hell out of her for recognizing how uneasy I must look and not saying anything.
I feel every pound of the bass as it rattles through my chest, the screeching melody scratching at my veins, ratcheting my unease to new levels. I take a deep breath, trying to calm my erratic pulse.
“We can go if?—”
“No!” I cut in as we reach the top of the staircase. “I’m fine, I just…”
“I know,” Haven reassures me, giving me a soft smile. She knows what happened five years ago, every damn detail, because she was there to pick up the pieces, to rescue me and attempt to help me heal. There’s so much to unpack still, and I know avoiding this place hasn’t helped. I just didn’t expect it to be so…hard.
“Come on!” she grins, tugging me down the hallway until we reach the VIP room we always use. “Let’s get some alcohol in you and ruin Roman’s night.”
