Precious Legacy (The Notorious Legacy #1)

Chapter 23

TWENTY-THREE

T hings between Roman and I have been different, but it’s a good kind of different. He’s been there for me in ways I didn’t expect him to be capable of, including cooking me dinner. Last night, he came over unexpectedly, holding two carrier bags of groceries. I took one look at him and folded over laughing, unconvinced that the guy could actually cook. To my surprise, he’s a pretty good chef. It helps that he also looks pretty fucking sexy in just boxers and an apron. I couldn’t keep my eyes off him as he stirred a pot on the stove, his muscles rippling across his back. I had to clench my thighs together as I sat on a stool at the kitchen island, hypnotized by the guy who’d just given me three orgasms in record time.

The connection we had when we were younger feels ten times stronger now. The attraction is palpable, the intensity of our feelings simmering under my skin like flames licking my veins. Even though I was in just a baggy t-shirt, I could feel the heat crawling up my spine and I had to force myself to get a handle on my urges before I distracted Roman and ruined dinner for both of us.

I should’ve known there would be an ulterior motive, though. Roman doesn’t do anything without there being a reason for his actions. So, when he asked if I’d return back to fight night, I had to take a long moment to consider my answer.

Somehow, between the fifth and sixth orgasm he gave me after dinner, I conceded. So here I am, stepping through the doorway to the abandoned warehouse once more, my heart hammering in my chest.

We’re like magnets—polar opposites tethered by something out of our control. I find his eyes watching my every move as I slip through the hordes of rowdy bodies.

I try to ignore the pounding of my pulse, swallowing thickly as I steady my breaths. Roman assured me Ashton wouldn’t be here tonight. I don’t know how he knows that for sure, but I put my trust in him, knowing that after the way he saw me last week, he won’t put me in the same position again.

The crash of music thunders around me. ‘Shatter’ by Bullet for my Valentine plays so loud I swear the speakers might explode. By the time I’ve made it up the stairs and into Roman’s arms, my ears feel like they’re bleeding.

I’m not averse to this type of music. It’s a kind of beat that speaks to my soul and gets my blood pumping, so I can see why Roman chose the genre.

He greets me with a soft kiss on the lips, twining our hands together before guiding me to the couches in the VIP area. He pulls me into his lap sideways, hands protectively wrapping around me. I’ve never been fond of the caveman routine, but Roman makes it so damn hard to push away from him. Being in his arms makes me feel safe, a different kind of security I didn’t know I needed.

The music below pumps away loudly. It’s just Roman and I up here, and I kinda like it. I know Haldon will be arriving at some point because he wouldn’t miss this kind of event. Haven said she’s got studying to do, but might make it later. And my brother, well… I’d like to think he isn’t still avoiding me, but he’s yet to respond to any of my messages.

“You’re killing me, Presh,” Roman rasps in my ear, fingers tracing patterns over my knee.

The dress I’ve opted for is red, blood red. It dips down to my navel, the hem landing mid-thigh. The material hugs my body like a second skin, with spaghetti straps that wrap around my shoulders and zigzag down my back. It was one hell of an effort to get it on, but seeing the hungry look in Roman’s eyes makes it totally worth it.

“Don’t die on me yet, Genovese,” I tease, wiggling my ass over his thickening cock. “I have plans after this.”

He quirks a brow, nuzzling into the slope of my neck. “And what would those plans involve?” His tone is husky and strained, like it’s taking everything in him not to bend me over the leather couch and plow into me right now. I wouldn’t say no, either… just maybe when there isn’t a crowd below us.

I lean into his chest, tilting my head back so I can look into his lust-filled eyes. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

Nipping my earlobe playfully, he elicits an embarrassing giggle that sends heat to my cheeks and pussy at the same time. It doesn’t help that Roman’s hand has now traveled between my thighs, tracing the raised skin where he carved the letter R and eliciting a choked moan from my throat.

“Argh…” a voice grumbles before the couch bounces under the weight of my brother. “Get a fucking room.”

Roman rolls his eyes, repositioning us both on the couch so we don’t look like we’re two seconds away from fucking each other’s brains out. “I’ll get us some drinks,” he murmurs, kissing my temple. He stands up from the couch and I don’t miss the warning look he shoots my brother.

Alvaro is silent, eyes gazing straight ahead while his jaw ticks over. I know that look . He’s thinking deeply. If we were anywhere else, I’d be sure you could hear a pin drop. Thankfully, Sum41 is playing loud enough to drown out the silence that would’ve otherwise settled between us.

Fumbling with my hands in my lap, I’ve never felt so awkward with my own brother. We’ve never even gone this long without talking—and I’m not even counting the other night when we ran into one another at Mosaique. Alvaro and I talk every day, whether it’s a call or text. Half the time it’s nonsensical, a joke or meme that we share. So going all week without any contact has been hard to handle.

It feels like Roman’s been gone forever. I know he can pull strings to get drinks faster, since this is his place, after all. But I sense he’s stalling because ten minutes pass and there’s still no sign of him.

The music feels like it’s growing louder, harsher and heavier, or maybe that’s just the awkward tension enveloping us. My brother glances at me, huffing, and I swear I feel the weight of his disappointment pin me in place.

From the corner of my eye, I see him shift, sliding his hand inside his jacket. With bated breath, I half expect him to pull out his gun. I don’t know why that’s the first thought to go through my head, because this is my brother. We’re two peas in a fucked up pod, and I know he’d never hurt me. I’m left speechless when he pulls out a black leather box, glancing up at me with a knowing smirk on his face.

“I’m not going to pretend I’m not pissed about this,” he explains.

“Vee, I?—”

He holds a hand up in the air, halting my words. I resist the anger that rises up at that action because it’s exactly what our dad would do. The similarities they share are both painful and astounding. “For the record, I’m not pissed that you want to be a cop,” he adds, sending me a pointed look. “I’m pissed that you felt you couldn’t tell me.”

“Would it have made a difference?” I ask genuinely.

Varo shrugs before leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, linking his hands together. “I think it might have been easier on both of us. I could’ve helped with Dad, saved the headache that he gives me on a daily basis about his little girl betraying him.”

I wince at the statement, hating how much it hurts. Hating how easy it was for my father to believe I’d betray the family. He never gave me the chance, and I never pushed for him to understand. A part of me was hesitant, scared I’d make the situation worse. We’re both to blame for the way things went down, and I know Haven is right; I need to make the first move to make amends. Starting with my brother is probably the easiest step.

“I never set out to betray anyone,” I croak, my heart heavy with the admission. “I have my reasons… I just…” I take a deep breath, but before I can explain further, my brother interrupts.

“I get it,” he says with a nod.

My brows crease, my heart pounding as I wonder whether Roman has disclosed my real motivations for wanting to join the police. No , there’s no way he would betray my trust like that. Roman might be an ass, but he’s put so much effort into embedding himself back in my life. He wouldn’t throw that all away, unless…

“But just in case you forgot,” he says, gesturing towards the leather box I’m still clutching in my sweating palm. “I’m not dad.”

He places his hand over mine, sympathy etched in his gaze. After a week of silence and our awkward encounter at Mosaique, I finally feel like the gravity of the situation seems a little less bleak. Sure, I still need to fix things with my dad, but if Varo is on my side, then it’ll make things a hell of a lot easier.

“Don’t you want to know why?”

Shaking his head, he pulls his hand away and gestures to the leather box. “You’re your own person, Lani. I know you better than anyone, so I know your reasons for doing this must be justified. I don’t need to know why, sis. I trust you.”

His words settle over me like a comforting blanket that has me wrapping my arms around my brother’s neck. He hugs me tightly, his chest expanding with a sharp breath. “I hope you know what you’re doing,” he sighs, pulling away from me.

“Me too,” I murmur, glancing back at the box. I don’t know why, but the prospect of opening it is unnerving.

“Are you gonna open the damn thing or what?” Varo snorts.

Prying the box open, I see the glint of gold sparkle before a gasp chokes me. I push the lid all the way, my eyes settling on the most beautiful gold watch I’ve ever seen; mom’s watch. I’ve seen it countless times before, but it still takes my breath away at how stunning it is, glittering and glowing under the dancing spotlights ahead. Feeling my lip wobble slightly, I glance up at him. It’s impossible to put into words exactly how much this means to me; a signal of her acceptance of my choice.

“Give him time, Lani.” Varo sets a hand on my shoulder and delivers a comforting squeeze. “He’ll come around.”

“You think so?” I ask hopefully.

“Despite what you might think, you’ll always be daddy’s precious girl.”

I roll my eyes, scoffing at the statement. My dad has a pretty weird way of showing his love towards me. I probably don’t make it easy on him, but isn’t it a parent’s job to love unconditionally? I see the way he looks at our mom; she’s his entire world and nothing could change that. He respects my brother, enough to step aside and let him take the reins. But I don’t feel like there’s a connection between us at all. Even as a kid, we were never that close. I spent more time with my Aunt Lexie than I did with my own dad.

Sometimes I wonder if that fueled the tension between us, but I can’t really recall a time where we ever shared a father-daughter moment that wasn’t filled with sharp words and anger.

“Does mom know?” I gulp.

He nods, smiling gently. “It’ll be okay. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Thanks,” I murmur. “I appreciate it.”

Varo sits back on the couch just as Roman returns with drinks. He must have been watching us, because he’s wearing a smirk on his face that I really wish I could slap off. I fucking knew he planned this. Whether Varo was involved or not, he knew what he was doing.

Rolling my eyes, I take the whiskey-coke from his hand, crossing my legs before he can step between them.

He casts me a challenging look, lips curling mischievously. It’s dark and dangerous; fucking sexy. He’s always looked good in a suit, but between this little plan to get me and his best friend to make up and the look darkening his blue eyes, I’m finding it difficult to be mad at him. The thoughts running through my head won’t allow it, though, and my earlier promise echoes in my head.

“You both good?” Roman asks, glancing between us.

Standing up, I trail my palm up his chest and over his shoulder, pushing up on my tippy toes so I can whisper in his ear. “Meet me in the bathroom.”

I pull away, his eyes wide with desire and a delicious smile spreading his gorgeous lips. Judging by the way he’s looking at me, he’s not going to protest. I step past him and head to the stairs, all the while feeling his gaze following me. It’s empowering to know I can make a man like Roman lose his self- control so easily. It’s the one thing that motivates me to really thank him. Properly.