Page 10 of Birthright
I grin, standing from the desk to walk around and shake his hand. “We’re gonna be great partners, Adrian. Welcome to the family.”
“We’ve come a long way.”I stand on the back porch of my family home, looking at my cousins.My family.
Lana and Naz came back from New York. Now that the war is over, and Lana's father, my Uncle Damien, is dead, it's safe for them to be here. Damien is the reason they ran away. He was forcing Lana to marry a congressman who was cruel and abusive, but she was in love with Naz, the low-level soldier who used to work for Marcus. Before I was locked up, I helped them escape to New York, getting Naz a job with Leo De Santis and protection from the Colombofamiglia.
John and Zoe stand next to them, my cousin's arm wrapped around his girl. He met her while pretending to be loyal to Marcus and Damien. He knew right away that something was up with the dancer he met at Saints and Sinners, and he was right. They had a common enemy in Marcus, leading to his downfall. For his entire life, John has been labeled as a psychopath, most of my family never believing he would be capable of love. But seeing him now with Zoe, it's apparent how much he adores her.
And then there's Madi and Adrian. My little blue-haired cousin has always been the most strong willed of all the women in my family. She never wanted to marry the lawyer next to her, but now it’s clear that they're the perfect match.
It's strange to see my family members coupled up like this, and a pang of jealousy stabs at my heart, knowing I'll never have what they do. I'll never fall in love with a woman when I know, in my line of work, that I'll never be able to protect her.
And the family has to come first.
"But we're all here now." I continue my speech. "The next generation, and I believe we can do better than our fathers and mothers did. I believe we are better. Tomorrow, we're going to rebuild this family. Better than it's been before. Stronger. But for today, we're going to celebrate." I raise the glass as my eyes find Naz. "Are you ready?" I ask.
"Absolutely," he says with certainty.
“Then let’s have a wedding.”
An hour later, my cousin and her love are married. There's food set up and a makeshift dance floor. The small number of guests we invited are eating, drinking, and dancing. Our celebration lasts well into the afternoon, and by evening, it's just family left.
John and I sit on the back porch with cigars as we watch the girls continue to dance, belting out the lyrics from some old Disney channel actress's song.
"This is good," John says.
I nod in agreement.
"And they found the girl."
"Yep." I take another puff, blowing out a thick cloud of smoke.
"What are you going to do with her?" John asks between his own inhales.
"We're celebrating." I clap a hand on his shoulder. "No business talk tonight, yeah?"
"Sure, sure." John nods and mimes zipping his lips.
We are celebrating, that much is true. But my mind is still on business, despite the current festivities.
There're a lot of things I need to handle now that I'm on the outside. It's been almost a year since my grandfather died, and in that time, my family has managed to dismantle his legacy. Our once thriving businesses are failing. Our shipments are missing. And the people once loyal to us are beginning to betray us.
But it's hard to focus on any of that. Because my mind keeps wandering back to the dark-haired girl who's sitting in my warehouse, waiting for me to deal with her.
My little witness.
SIX
Olivia
I'm not sure how long I've been here. My hands are secured behind my back and my ankles are tied to the legs of the chair the two men placed me in. They had a sack over my head, an item that caused me to hyperventilate for most of the trip here. Once we arrived, they switched it to a blindfold, but still, my sight being cut off has me anxious.
They told me I'm waiting for someone, but I don't understand who.
Joey's voice rings in my head, reminding me I'm dealing with themafia.
A scene flickers in the back of my brain, a memory from the last summer I spent in New Orleans with my father. I was at the bar, like I always was, spinning on one of the stools, when strange men walked in. They got in my father’s face, shouting that he owed them money, and if he didn't pay, it was going to beherneck on the line. I recall that one of the men pointed at me while they said this.
Other patrons in the bar scattered away and my grandfather, who was still lucid back then, scooped me up and carried me to the stairs, telling me to go up to the apartment and play.
