Precious Legacy (The Notorious Legacy #1)

Chapter 5

FIVE

C offee: the key to my soul and the one thing I can’t live without. It’s probably one of my only vices… well, unless you count Roman Genovese. That man is both addictive and annoying, like a drug I can’t kick the habit of. I can try and fight it, but I’ll always want to go back for more. Trust me, I hate myself for it. I should have higher standards, better self-control, but half the time I can’t decide if I want to stab him or kiss him. Apparently, it doesn’t really matter because I throw all sensibility out the window when Roman is in the vicinity.

He’s like a goddamn elastic band. I push him away, giving him no reason to interact with me, yet he finds a way. And just like that, the elastic band snaps and he rushes me at full force, giving me no chance to dodge him. Sometimes I think I deserve the torment. I don’t know why, call it self-sabotage, but I feel like this is fate dealing me its shitty hand and telling me to just work with it. I do. Of course, I do. I’m not a quitter. I’m the daughter of the founder of The Five. Defiance should be my middle name because I’ll never show my weaknesses, not to anybody, and especially not to Roman Genovese.

I try not to think about what he did to me the other night because it only brings me shame. I’m embarrassed that I let him get close to me, again . Even more so that he fucked me with my own gun and I didn’t hate it.

I take a sip of my scalding coffee and close my eyes. I’m sitting in my regular coffee shop, waiting for Haven to get out of one of her lectures. She’s just started medical school after graduating from Columbia pre-med. Haven’s hoping to work in the same hospital as her mom did before she opened her free clinic.

I love that about their family. Always so helpful, nothing is too much trouble for them. Aunt Cori opened up a clinic to help those battling addiction who can’t afford medical treatment. With the help of Uncle Hunter, the clinic has all the financial backing and success of any other hospital in the city. I can see why Haven admires her mom so much.

As a family, they’re so tightly-knit, always looking out for one another, always attending family dinners. They even have a family group chat! If I didn’t know them, I’d assume that they were in some kind of cult. Never once have I heard Uncle Hunter raise his voice to Haldon and Haven. It’s like they’re god’s gift—in a way, they really are. Haven is more than book-smart. She’s got brains and beauty to boot. There isn’t one thing she doesn’t know, but not only that, she’s kind and considerate. Despite us being best friends, she’s a stark contradiction to myself. Where I focused my energy on self-defense and fighting, learning to protect myself, Haven worked her ass off to get into Columbia.

Haldon, on the other hand, didn’t spawn from the same gene pool when it comes to intelligence. He’s got business smarts and knows how to get what he wants, just like Uncle Hunter. He’s got the looks, can talk the talk and walk the walk, but put a math equation in front of him or any kind of academic literature and he freezes up. He’s fiercely loyal, though. He would do anything for his sister, myself included. He’s found his calling; taking on his father’s clubs, maintaining the legal side of business because it’s what he excels in.

“Sorry, I’m late!” Haven pants as she takes a seat in front of me. “My professor held me back to talk about my assignment.”

I raise a brow at her dubiously. “Is that what we’re calling it?”

“Oh shut up!” she admonishes. “He’s old!”

“So?” I shrug, pushing her coffee across the table. It’s probably cold by now, but she still accepts it, taking a huge gulp before responding.

“I’m not into old men who play with Petrie dishes for a living.”

“Fair enough,” I chuckle. “So, what’s new?” I ask, watching Haven remove her coat and hat. It’s not even that cold outside with it being September, but she’s always preferred the warmth. Whenever we go out somewhere, you’ll always find her wearing a coat, regardless of the occasion or season. It’s just one of her many quirks, and I love her for that.

“Not a lot,” she hums in thought, ruffling her long brown hair. She’s wearing it straight today, with only the slightest hint of makeup—not that she needs it. The girl is stunning. It seems the entire Gambino gene pool was handing out good looks like it was going out of fashion. But Haven inherited more from her mom, adorning the Olivia Munn look alike features that make me jealous every time I see her.

“Just trying to find my way through the mountain of textbooks,” she huffs. “There’s so many exams and so much to learn.”

“If anyone can do it, it’s you.”

Haven rolls her eyes. Did I mention she’s incredibly modest? It’s adorable, really. She knows how smart she is; she skipped a couple of grades in school because of it. But point it out to her and she gets a cute blush on her cheeks. She has this awkward look about her, like she doesn’t know how to take the compliment. It’s endearing, so damn adorable that I’m surprised she’s still single at twenty-one years old.

“What about you?” she asks, taking another sip of her latte. “When do you start with…” she glances around the small coffee shop warily, “you know…”

I finish off my coffee with a sigh. It’s a distraction, a caffeinated intrusion that helps me keep myself together, if only for a short while. “Not for a month. There’s a whole list of books I need to get, and I need to get my ID and…” I huff out loud. “It’s a lot.”

I’m still surprised I actually got in. This has been five years in the making, starting with legally changing my last name from Bonanno to Caruthers—my mom’s maiden name. That move started the war between me and my father, because even though I’d already told him I wanted nothing to do with the family business, taking matters into my own hands and formally changing my name was a big ‘fuck you’ to him and everything he’s built. Or at least that’s how he looked at it. For me, it was the equivalent of unlocking the cage I’d been trapped in for my entire life; my first step toward freedom.

After passing all the other prerequisites like fitness and written exams, I was still wary my background check wouldn’t pass. Aunt Lexie used her old connections to help push it through, so hopefully I’ll be able to continue flying under the radar and nobody will realize I’m the daughter of Axel Bonanno; the head of one of the leading crime families in the city. Even if I want nothing to do with that life, I’m sure I’d be kicked out of the academy swiftly if they found out who I really am.

“I take it you’ve still not told your dad?” Haven intrudes on my worrying thoughts.

I shoot her an accusatory glare. Of course I haven’t spoken to my dad about this, I haven’t even told my mom. Most of the conversations I have with my dad start with small talk and end up in screaming matches. There’s no way I can have a calm conversation with him about me wanting to join the NYPD. In his eyes, they’re the enemy. It doesn’t matter how many officers he has in his pockets, they’re nothing but an inconvenience to him. Me joining the police is only going to drive an even bigger wedge between us than my walking away from the family five years ago did.

I know deep down it’s because he wants to protect me. The justice system hasn’t done him any favors, even when he was innocent. It was my mom that got him out of doing jail time for a crime he didn’t commit. That’s how they met. My dad pretty much forced my mom to represent him. I’ve always wondered why she agreed to it. I know we have this saying, you don’t say ’no’ to The Five , but who really listens to that shit? It was cooked up by some idiot who was petrified of my dad and somehow it stuck. Still, my mom helped him prove his innocence, and the rest is history.

His distaste for the force is only reinforced by the awkward tension that sits between him and my Aunt Lexie. Though things have gotten a lot less tense since she left the NYPD, they still don’t see eye to eye on things. It’s probably time I talked to her about all this. She helped me out with my application, but she doesn’t know yet that I’ve officially been accepted into the academy.

She was supportive then, so I’m certain she’ll be just as supportive now.

“Lani,” Haven sighs, catching my attention. “You need to tell your dad. At the very least, tell Alvaro…”

“I know,” I reply, biting on my lip. “I just don’t know how to bring it up.” I trace my fingers over the little coffee bean image imprinted on my mug, desperate for a distraction. Haven is the only person I allow to see me this vulnerable because she knows when not to push me for more. She can read me well enough to know when to leave things alone, which I appreciate her so much for. She’s got my back and I’ve got hers, but this isn’t something she can help me with. This is all on me.

“I know Varo will take it better than dad,” I admit. “But… I just don’t want another argument.”

“Well, why don’t you tell Varo this weekend?” she suggests. “Haldon’s got this big party on Saturday Night at Gemini Lounge.”

“A party?” I frown. Haldon never mentioned a party the other night, and I’m pretty sure he would have if it was something planned for all of us. That very thought sets like concrete in my veins. “Who’s the party for?” I ask, my fingers wrapping around the warmth of my mug.

Something tells me the next words out of Haven’s mouth aren’t going to be good, judging by the way she grimaces slightly.

“For Roman,” she murmurs.

My heart races, pounding so loudly in my ears that I barely hear what she says next. I try to focus on her lips, but I’ve never been a good lip reader. All I can hear is the loud buzz of my anger vibrating in my eardrums. The only words I pick up on are, “He’s back… for good.”

Suddenly, I’m finding it difficult to breathe. My chest feels like it’s encased in brick. No, he can’t be here . Roman should have gone back already. He never stays longer than a weekend, and that’s only if there’s a reason for him to stay. I thought he was just trying to piss me off the other night by telling me he was never leaving. I didn’t realize that those words were the first honest words out of his mouth.

I gulp in as much air as I can.

“… Lani?”

“Huh?” My gaze shoots up to Haven’s. She’s gaping at me, wondering what the hell is going on. I’m wondering the same thing.

She reaches across the table, taking my hand. “I’m sorry.”

“H…how do you know he’s back for good? I thought he was going back to L.A.?”

She offers me a sad smile, understanding flowing through the simple touch of her hand on mine. She knows that the only thing keeping me sane was the distance Roman had placed between us. It’s taken everything I have to try and move on, and yeah, maybe I did forget about all the hurt for a brief moment while he was fucking me with my gun, but that doesn’t mean I’m okay with this. I am not okay.

“Haldon told me. Said he’s working on the dens and something else.”

I don’t have to question what she means. Roman took over the gambling dens from Uncle Trigger a while back. I thought he’d just forgotten about them, because they’ve been run into the ground according to Aunt Lexie. Now, I realize Roman just needed a reason to come back.

Fuck .

“I would have told you sooner, but Haldon only told me this morning as I was heading to my lecture,” she tacks on apologetically.

I nod, but no words seem to come out. My worst nightmare is coming true. I guess it was probably na?ve of me to think Roman would stay in L.A. for good. It was only a matter of time before he edged his way back into my life.

“Shit!” Haven mutters, glancing down at her phone. “I need to go, but…” her eyes soften as she takes in my shaky state.

“I’ll be fine,” I whisper back. It’s unconvincing, but Haven doesn’t push the matter. She stands up from the table, slipping her coat and hat back on before grabbing her to-go cup.

“Text me later?” she asks, though I’m pretty sure she’s telling me.

I nod again, my thoughts drowning me as she gives me an awkward hug before leaving. I must sit there for at least another hour, wondering how the hell I’m supposed to move on with my life while Roman is prowling around. Five years was barely enough to get over the intensity of our relationship, and that was with over two thousand miles between us. Now, I run the risk of seeing the asshole around every corner.

“Fuck this,” I grumble, pushing away from the table. I need to clear my head before I do something stupid. The gym usually helps with that, so I set the wheels in motion, motivating myself to head to my local gym.

Only as soon as I push out the door of the coffee shop, I come face to face with the very person I want to avoid.

“Presh,” Roman purrs my nickname as he leans against his bike, arms folded and watching my every move. He’s wearing leathers that hug his lean form, every muscle squeezed into the material. His blonde hair is pushed back, most likely messy from the helmet that sits on the tank of the Silver Suzuki Hayabusa.

I’m torn between rolling my eyes and drooling because even though the asshole looks good—and he knows it—I still don’t want to interact with the guy. I tilt my head, taking in the bike behind him, the sleek paintwork reflecting like a bullet in the sunlight. This time, there’s no way I can resist the urge to roll my eyes because he’s flaunting my favorite bike in my face. It’s not that I can’t afford one, but I’ve grown pretty close to my Aunt Lexie’s Ducati Streetfighter. The matte black paintwork with exposed titanium exhaust just calls to me. I got it from Lexie for my twenty-first birthday, but I’ve never really had the chance to ride it properly.

Roman pats the leather seat beside him, a smirk curving his lips as he reads the thoughts passing through my head. “Wanna ride?”

“With you?” I scoff. “No thanks.” I sidestep him as he stalks forward.

“Come on, Lani. You’re starting to hurt my feelings with all this pushback.”

Cutting him a glare, I force back all the ugly words I want to say to him. He doesn’t deserve them, he doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as me. “That would imply that you actually have feelings, Genovese. Let’s not kid ourselves.”

Roman’s jaw ticks over, his bright blue gaze darkening. “Why do you hate me so much?”

His question has me pausing in my tracks. Not just the words, but the sliver of vulnerability and uncertainty that comes with them. I shouldn’t let it bother me, but then again, I’ve never been reasonable when it comes to Roman Genovese. He’s the chaos to my storm, always stirring up a tempest.

Taking a deep breath, I zip up my leather jacket and walk in the opposite direction, ignoring his question altogether. The more space I put between us, the easier it becomes to breathe. I know Roman is still watching me, but he doesn’t follow like I thought he might. I don’t know why the feeling of disappointment settles in the pit of my stomach, but when I hear the thick rumble of the bike engine, I don’t turn around. I can’t help but watch him as he skirts past me, picking up speed as he weaves through the city traffic. As much as I hate the asshole, he looks damn sexy on that bike.