Precious Legacy (The Notorious Legacy #1)

Chapter 4

FOUR

T he red leather wheezes as I sink my fists into it with each punch. Sweat trickles down my temple, but it only spurs me on, allowing me to release the rage I’ve been harboring since last night.

Left jab, right hook. Duck. Uppercut.

I practice the moves like a dance, a choreography of war, switching my stance and evening my weight when I feel uneasy. That’s what this sport is all about; agility, technique. Fighting has become my church, a religion I’m devoted to. It’s how I relieve stress, refocus my energy, and reinforce discipline. It takes bravery to get in a ring, but it takes real dedication to learn the sport and not let it rule you.

I’ve been fighting for years—since I was old enough to fit my hands in gloves. Only now, I prefer to go without because there’s nothing like feeling the real pain beneath your punches to hone in your skill, and that’s really what it comes down to. You don’t need to be strong when it comes to fighting, you just have to be better than your opponent.

That rule applies to more than the boxing ring, though. There’s always going to be someone who wants more; more power, more money . One of the things I was taught growing up is to protect. Protect what’s yours; family, friends, love, business. It all falls under the same umbrella.

My father was the one who introduced me to boxing, telling me it wasn’t just a sport, but a way of life, and he was right. There’s nowhere else I feel more like myself than when I’m here in the gym.

Actually, that’s a lie. The only person who makes me feel like I don’t need to be anyone else is Alanis Bonanno. She’s my fucking kryptonite, the poison I want to drown in. It’s like my soul is entwined with hers, tethered together by an invisible steel band. It’s not like either of us has a troubled past. We never had traumatic childhoods, we’re just built the same, cut from the same dark cloth. As much as she tries to take the moral high ground and deny who she really is, our personalities mirror each other’s. The the darkness of mine speaks to her own. We’re yin and yang. We push and pull at one another, battling the attraction until she ends up beneath me, and, well… we all know what happens next.

Memories of Alanis falling apart from her gun have me reaching for my aching cock, giving it a rough squeeze. She still tastes like my darkest thoughts, smothered in resentment and rage. I’ve missed her defiance, the way she fights me—or tries to. The other night wasn’t exactly planned, but the beauty that comes from such a dangerous and intimate act was too good to pass up. Especially when that very same gun was pressed to my head, a threat I knew Alanis would never be able to follow through on. If there’s one thing we’ve all been taught, it’s that you never pull the gun on someone you don’t intend to harm. Though, now that I come to think of it, she didn’t exactly hold back, which means her hate for me is deeper than I thought.

The thing is, I live by The Five’s motto. You never say ‘no’ to The Five . I’m making it my life’s mission to embed myself in her life as much as possible. She can lie to herself all she wants, but we’re not done. We never were, despite the way I left five years ago. I had a job to do, a responsibility to my family. I left her once out of obligation and I won’t make the same mistake again. Now that I’m back for good, she’s going to realize that.

“Hey!” Alvaro calls out from across the gym, swinging his gym bag onto a nearby bench with a thud. “I thought I’d find you here.”

I grab my towel and wipe at the buildup of sweat across my forehead. “Needed to sweat out some pent-up frustration,” I reply, catching my breath at the same time.

Alvaro raises a brow at me. “Sure,” he chuckles with a shake of his head, “and it has nothing to do with my twin?”

I don’t answer my best friend’s jibe. He knows exactly where I was the other night. I don’t need to come up with an excuse as to why I didn’t take the same cab as him back to his place. He’d see through my bullshit even if I did have the courage to lie. We’re too close to keep secrets from one another, which is why I’m a little pissed off after my visit to see his sister.

“I’m assuming from your mood that it didn’t go well?” Alvaro asks from the bench where he’s wrapping his knuckles with tape. He doesn’t look at me, but I sense that’s more out of self-preservation than anything else.

Snatching my water bottle from the floor, I bring it to my lips, taking heavy gulps. My mind travels back to that night, when I was leaving. I didn’t plan on snooping around, but the letter on the kitchen island caught my eye. Alanis doesn’t know it yet, but her acceptance letter to the NYPD Training Program is currently sitting in my bag. I read it word for word last night and this morning, trying to wrap my head around the fact Alanis wants to join the police academy. I’d be happy for her if it weren’t for the fact they’re the enemy. Separating herself from the mafia is one thing, but joining the other side just doesn’t make any fucking sense.

Sure, Aunt Lexie was in the NYPD for a long time, but she gave up that career, opting for an easier life where she wasn’t scrutinized over her loyalty to The Five. In all honesty, she wasn’t that loyal to the families. I’ve heard stories of Uncle Trigger getting arrested several times. Aunt Lexie never used her position once to help him out, which is kind of funny when you think about it. That’s their relationship to a T, though.

As for Alanis, I need to know what her motivations are. Why the hell does she want to switch sides? It doesn’t bode well for us when she knows everyone’s secrets. She’s going to be The Five’s weakness—even more so than she is right now.

“Look,” he sighs, standing up and heading towards me. “I don’t know what happened between you two, and I’d rather not get in the middle of it.”

My jaw flickers with irritation because I know as much as he does about why his sister hates me. I know I didn’t leave on good terms—if you can call it that. We were both young, and she understood my role within my family. She just didn’t agree.

“You and I both know my sister. You leaving fucked her up and you need to fix it.”

“So much for being the big brother,” I comment. “Shouldn’t you be kicking my ass?”

Alvaro laughs, pushing past me to cradle the punching bag in his arms. “Nah, Alanis can handle herself. I’d just get in the way. Plus, I’m only older by two minutes. Don’t fuel the fire, bro.”

I can’t help but laugh, knocking our knuckles together as I move into position in front of the punching bag.

“How are things with her and your dad?” I ask, giving the bag a few light jabs.

He sighs back in response, shaking his head again. “I don’t know, man. I feel like he wants the best for Alanis, but they keep clashing. She wants nothing to do with the family business, Dad wants her to claim her rightful role. Mom’s just in the middle, trying to prevent them from ripping each other’s heads off.”

“And what does Alanis want?” I press, giving the bag a harsh right hook that knocks Alvaro sideways slightly. I already know what she wants if that letter is anything to g by, but does her twin?

“Fuck knows,” he shrugs. “Doesn’t even matter, really. Dad just won’t let go. She’ll always be his precious girl, even if she hates it.”

I file those tiny bits of information away for later as we fall into a comfortable silence, my fists beating heavily on the bag until my arms ache and my gym tank is drenched in sweat. We switch up positions, me taking the bag to keep it steady while Alvaro works out his own aggression on it. We don’t talk—sometimes there’s just nothing to say—and the last thing I want to do is expose Alanis’ secret. I can understand Alanis’ reasons for not telling me. We haven’t exactly been on great terms since I left. But Alvaro is my best friend, so if he knew about this and didn’t say anything, that betrayal stings more.

After an hour of beating the shit out of the bags, we pack up and head back to Alvaro’s apartment. I’m staying with him until I find my own place. I could stay with my parents up in New Jersey, but I need to get started on my plans with the gambling dens and fight rings. It’s just too inconvenient to travel that far on a daily basis, and logistically, it makes sense for me to be close to everything.

While the dens are pretty much established, they’re not turning over much profit. Originally, it was Uncle Trigger’s side of the business, but he just let things run their course. He handed it over to me a couple of years back, taking a backseat from the organization. Since he doesn’t have an heir, he felt I was best suited to run the dens. I’ve not had much input though, because I’ve been on the other side of the states.

I’ve learned a lot from the West Coast. Vegas is renowned for its casinos and gambling, and spending five years out there gave me a lot of insight. It also made me wary of who not to cross, which is why I’m going to need Alvaro’s help if what he says about the Russians is true.

“I figured we could go meet up with Haldon,” Alvaro suggests as we head up to his apartment. “He’s got some sway with the Russians, so he might have some intel.”

I drop my bag onto the bed and grab a towel from the cupboard. I’m pretty much two steps ahead of Alvaro when it comes to tonight. I was already planning on meeting up with Haldon, I just hadn’t contacted him yet. “I want to run by The Laundromat first,” I say, heading to the connected bathroom. I flick the water on and wait for it to warm up.

The Laundromat is just a cover for one of my backdoor gambling dens. The front of the shop is exactly what it is, a laundromat. But for the right people, there’s a nightly poker game that attracts all kinds of attention.

“Someone behind on payments?” Alvaro asks as he leans against the doorframe, folding his arms over his chest.

“Just need to pay them a visit, gently remind them that just because Colombo isn’t calling the shots anymore, doesn’t mean they can walk all over me.”

It’s the first time I’ll be showing my face since Trigger handed over the reins to me. I know that the hosts have been shaving money off the top of profits. Hell, I’d be offended if they didn’t. It gives me the opportunity to assert my authority, give them a taste of what I can do if they don’t follow the rules.

“Want me to call Haldon for backup?” Alvaro asks.

“No,” I reply, shrugging off my tank. “Our presence will be enough. We can update him later.”