Precious Legacy (The Notorious Legacy #1)

Chapter 9

NINE

A fter a week of dissecting the various emotions I’ve been feeling recently, a night out is more than necessary. Sure, it means I’ll be in the same place as Roman, but Gemini Lounge is always busy. It’d be easy to avoid him and hide in the crowd of patrons.

Which is exactly what I’m trying to do. I just want to let loose and enjoy some time with my girlfriends without having to worry about anything. Since my attempt to exercise the uncertain energy from my body epically failed yesterday— no thanks to Roman —I’m even more determined to shove everything to the back of my mind and let loose.

My hips sway as I lose myself to the strobe lights and dirty beat of ‘Buss it’ by Sage The Gemini. The air is thick, swelling with heat as bodies slide against one another. Sweat trickles down my spine as Haven playfully grinds against me, losing her inhibitions to the music and alcohol.

There’s so many people in here that it’s back to back on the dance floor. The place isn’t huge, which means the dance area is restricted to just a corner of the club, but it hosts the best DJ sets in New York City, so of course anyone with decent music taste is going to attend one of the most sought after clubs in Manhattan. Add to the fact that this is apparently Roman Genovese’s welcome back party, and it’s no surprise the amount of half-naked women huddling around the VIP section, desperate for a glimpse of one of The Five’s offspring.

Haven and I have done well to remain out of that particular spotlight. Haven uses her mother’s last name regularly to keep a low profile, and I had mine legally changed a while back. In a world full of misogyny, it’s better to keep the family life separate. In this world, names define us. If I went around telling everyone my father was none other than Axel Bonanno, my life would be a hell of a lot different.

That’s the last thing I want.

I shake my ass to the beat while Haven belts out the lyrics shamelessly. She flings her long brown hair over a shoulder, cackling at herself, and I can’t help but laugh back at her. Her penchant for Rap music is a stark contrast to her innocent personality, which just makes her more lovable. She was right to push me to come out tonight. I was considering faking an illness just to avoid Roman, but that was swiftly followed by the thought of him thinking he had gotten to me.

He has . I just don’t want him to know it.

So far, I’ve done well to avoid the asshole. Not that he’d ever step foot on this dance floor. It’s too packed, too close for his comfort, which makes it the perfect hiding place for me.

“Gracie’s here!” Haven yells over the music, pointing towards the bar where I spot our perky blonde friend ordering drinks.

Gracie Lucchese spins around as we approach her. With long blonde hair and legs to die for, she makes Barbie look inferior. Her piercing blue eyes and full lips are every man’s wet dream, and her tattoos make her stand out, yet give her just enough approachability. She doesn’t even glance back in any man’s direction, though. With seven years separating us, she’s got both experience and maturity on her side. Judging from the guest list, she’s not going to be interested in any of the males prowling around the club tonight.

We make our way over, sliding between more sweaty bodies until we’re perched on the small raised platform of the bar. Gracie slides some shot glasses towards us with a grin. “Drink up, bitches!”

Without even looking at the liquid inside the glass, I throw it back. Argh, tequila. It’s not what I would’ve chosen since Vodka is usually my preference, but I’m not going to pass up on any drink tonight. And in case we thought one wasn’t enough, Gracie hands each of us another shot, a mischievous grin sliding across her lips. Despite the age difference, she’s always been the life of the party. In most instances, she could give Haldon a run for his money. She’s always got something up her sleeve when it comes to fun, so when she pulls out a joint and arches a brow in question, Haven and I nod emphatically.

“Let me just grab a drink and I’ll join you!” I shout. When I say ‘drink’, I mean something to kill the burning taste of tequila currently sitting in my stomach .

With a quick nod, they leave the bar and head toward the door labeled ‘Smoking Area’ while I order myself a whiskey sour.

My fingers tap a steady rhythm against the bar top as ‘Animals’ by Maroon 5 plays, my head bobbing while I wait for the bartender to deliver my drink. A heated wariness suddenly prickles the back of my neck, followed by the tightening of my chest in nervous warning.

“You’re just teasing me now, Presh.”

I suck in a breath.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I snap over my shoulder. It’s meant to deter him, but even I recognize the weakness in my voice and the way my breath hitches further when a set of soft lips brush over the exposed skin of my shoulder.

“I’m offended,” Roman growls in my ear.

I roll my eyes. The heat of his body pressing against my back tells me he’s not going anywhere.

“Nothing can offend you,” I comment bitterly.

I would say I’m trying to remain impassive, but it doesn’t really matter what emotion I portray, it doesn’t faze Roman in the slightest. At this point, all the bickering between us is both exhausting and exciting. For whatever messed up reason, I’m enjoying getting a rise out of him as much as he seems determined to embed himself in my life. After yesterday, there’s no denying how my off-handed comment about him being a simple lay affected him. Which just makes every comeback I have up my sleeve that much more lethal.

“On the contrary. When my girl doesn’t welcome me back with open arms, it stings a little.”

“I’m not your girl,” I grind out, spinning around to face him with malice in my eyes. “I haven’t been for a long time.” Luckily, the small platform that lines the bar gives me a little more height than my five foot six inches, but not even that can overcome the difference between us.

Roman’s eyes glitter with determination, his lips glistening from where he’s just ran his tongue across them. He reaches out to trace a finger along my jaw, slowly dipping down the column of my neck until it rests on the exposed area of my chest. His eyes wander, and I can immediately tell what thoughts are crossing his mind.

Admittedly, when I chose this outfit, I thought of Roman. The tight, black, bandage wrap-style dress clings to my body, the hem hitting mid-thigh. The halter-neck straps allow the material to plunge to my navel while still covering the most important parts. I’m not ashamed to admit that when I pulled this from my wardrobe, I wanted to tease and taunt Roman. It’s just another immature way for me to stick it to him, because I meant what I said. We’re done.

I never said I was done tempting the devil, though.

If I can gain even an ounce of agitation from Roman, I’ll be satisfied. It won’t make up for the hurt and betrayal he put me through, but it’d make me feel a little better.

The silence between us seems to stretch on for an eternity as he admires my outfit choice, his bottom lip tucking beneath his teeth as he leans in closer. “Newsflash, Lani. You’ve always been my girl. And this ,” he glances at my dress, his fingertip dancing over the flesh near my breast. “Is just asking for trouble.”

His comment has a ripple effect. First comes the irritation of his words, then the angry disbelief that he thinks he’s my only option. Finally, it settles on the rage that he insinuates my attire is an open invitation, bringing back all the memories I’ve tried to lock away.

Grabbing his finger, I twist it backwards, tugging him closer so that he can hear my words loud and clear. “What I wear does not give you, or anyone else , the right to touch me.”

He chuckles in response, irritating my last nerve. “You’re mine, Lani. Don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy me fucking your brains out yesterday.”

I release his finger. I want to smack the sly smirk from his face, but then that would make me just as bad as him. Instead, I jab him with the bitter, honest truth. “It was a momentary lapse in judgment. I told you it would be the only time you’d have me. Now, move on.”

I turn around and grab my drink off the bar because I’m done here. I’m half tempted to just go home to avoid Roman entirely, but even that isn’t a foolproof plan. There’s nowhere in this city he can’t find me. Roman is everywhere, and he’s here for good. Plus, I don’t want him to think he’s ruined my night. I refuse to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’s gotten beneath my skin. This city is equally mine as it is his.

I’m about to take a sip of my whiskey sour when he snatches it out of my hand and sinks the contents in three seconds flat. I gape at him, unsurprised, yet startled by his boldness as he places the glass back on the bar top with a wry smile curling his lips. Lips I still feel the ghost of. Lips I wouldn’t mind kissing, even if every fiber of my being tells me it’s a bad idea.

The music suddenly changes to ‘Control’ by Jex, bringing me out of my stupor. I jolt, clearing my throat, but the heat of Roman’s hard body pressed against mine does nothing to calm my racing pulse.

“See, that’s what I’m confused about.” He tilts his head as if to feign the exact emotion he’s talking about. “You act like you don’t like me, but then you kiss me. You let me fuck you, scream my name, and then you go cold.”

“Ever heard of hate fucking?” I snap.

Damn, I need a drink. All this toxicity is suddenly making me really thirsty.

Twisting around, I signal to the bartender for another drink since the asshole behind me stole mine. I receive an acknowledging nod and watch him get to work mixing it.

“Alanis, can we?—”

“When were you going to tell me you were back for good?” I cut in, spinning around to pin him with an icy glare. I already know what he wants to say, and I’m not interested in listening to his bullshit. Deep down, I’d love to be able to sit and hear him out, find out why he chose the mafia over me, why he left despite the promises he’d made…but my sense of preservation questions whether I’d even believe whatever he said. He’s lied before, he can lie again. He can spin all the right words, tell me everything I want to hear, but it’d just be a fabrication.

Roman falters for a moment, his chest rising as he takes a deep breath. In a flicker of a moment, he goes from the stubborn asshole who’s been stalking me to the boy who promised me forever. The guilt framing his eyes is noticeable, but as soon as it appears, it morphs into something else. Distaste. “Technically, I did. When were you going to tell me you were joining the NYPD?”

Of course he’d def… wait…what?

My eyes widen and the surrounding air seems to thicken. Oxygen is scarce as my lungs try to work through my frozen chest. The tequila shots from earlier threaten to make a reappearance, and as entertaining as it would be to throw up all over Roman’s expensive suit, the urge to hold it down is a lot stronger.

“You thought I wouldn’t find out,” he smirks knowingly. “Have you forgotten who I am?”

“Wh—how?”

Roman’s hand grips my neck, the warmth of his palm sending goosebumps skittering over my skin while his thumb presses into the hollow of my throat. “I have my ways.” His voice is gravelly and filled with the faintest hint of betrayal.

I try to swallow, but besides the pressure on my throat, I can’t contend with the lump that has formed. How he found out is of no importance. It’s the fact he knows.

Someone I never told, knows . And that someone holds a lot more power than I’d like to give. With Haven, it’s girl code. The loyalty between us is etched deeper than with the guys, our brothers included. But Roman Genovese is a selfish prick. He doesn’t care about anyone but himself, and him knowing this fragile piece of information is going to be the end of me. I know it.

Fuck.

“I take it from the look on your face I’m right?”

“Right?” I mouth, frowning and secretly hating that he’s removed his hand.

“Vee doesn’t know, does he?” His tone is more accusatory than questioning.

I shake my head.

He tilts his own in thought, his gaze flickering upwards. “Which means…” his impish gaze lands back on me. “Daddy Bonanno doesn’t know either.”

Shit. My blood freezes in my veins. “Roman, I?—”

“Don’t worry,” he chuckles, moving his arms to either side of me. His hands rest on the bar top, caging me in. “I won’t tell.”

As much as I’d like to believe him, the look in his eyes tells me there’s a caveat in there, he’s just deciding what that is.

“Thank you,” is all I can muster, even those two words threaten the bile in my stomach to rise once more.

“On one condition,” he grins.

There it is— the reason the devil summons Roman to do his dirty work. Ever the perfect enforcer, Roman is good at getting what he wants, and I’ve fallen perfectly into his trap.

“What?” I ask through gritted teeth.

He raises a finger. One finger in the air. What that means, I don’t know. Until he speaks. “One date.”

If I had a drink, I would be spitting it all over him. As it happens, he drank mine and I’m still waiting on my replacement, so all I can do is gape at the cocky asshole and assess my options.

He leans toward me when I don’t answer, still trying to find the words because I guess I wasn’t expecting him to want that. In the grand scheme of things, I could probably put aside my hatred towards him for an hour, if not to keep my secret. Then again, is my secret worth that much energy? It’s not like I can keep it forever.

Handing me my drink, Roman towers over me, still waiting for an answer. I take a sip because I need the liquid courage. “One date?” I repeat.

Roman nods.

“In exchange for you not telling a single soul about the training academy?”

He nods again.

“That’s it?”

“I mean,” he steps closer—if closer is even possible. Turns out it is, because suddenly I can feel his heart thumping against my chest. I can feel the rise and fall of every breath he takes, sending me dizzy with desire. “If you want to negotiate, by all means. I’d be happy to relive yester?—”

“One date!” I agree sharply. “And you don’t breathe a word about this to anyone .”

“Breathe what?” he smirks. As delicious as it is, I resist the urge to reduce the sliver of distance between us.

Instead, I grant him a silent nod before pushing past him to head toward the smoking area. Just the prospect of fresh air spurs me on faster, desperate to create as much distance between Roman and I as I can.

With my sweaty palms pressed against the cold metal door, I push through into the chilly night air. It doesn’t take me long to locate Gracie and Haven huddled in a corner sharing a joint. Unsurprisingly, Haven has her coat draped over her shoulders, tucking Gracie into her side as the spliff shifts between them. As soon as they spot me, they wave me over.

“What took you so long?” Gracie grills me.

“One word,” Haven laughs, billows of smoke escaping her mouth. “Roman Genovese.”

“That’s two, you idiot!” Gracie chuckles back. “What did he want?”

I contemplate telling them the truth, but then that would lead to a whole bunch of other questions I’m not quite sure I’m ready to answer. Only Haven and Aunt Lexie—and now Roman—know about the academy. I can’t risk it getting out to my dad. Not yet.

Snatching the joint from Gracie, I take a long drag and hold it in. My eyes narrow in thought as I exhale. “He was just doing what he always does. Annoying the ever-loving shit out of me.”

I know that lying to my best friends is not the right move here, but it’s just one date. One date where I can pretend to give Roman the time of day. One date that will ensure my secret stays where it belongs.

At least until I’m ready to tell my dad.