Precious Legacy (The Notorious Legacy #1)

Chapter 25

TWENTY-FIVE

I wake up with a gentle ache between my legs and a comforting warmth in my chest. It’s my first day of training, and to say I’m nervous would be an understatement. I think that’s why Roman has spent the entire weekend at my place, distracting me with his exceptional cooking skills and talented mouth. He fucked me to sleep last night, but I woke up at two in the morning with anxious thoughts swirling and couldn’t fall back asleep. I can tell by the tightness of my face that I won’t be able to hide the fact I’m running on fumes.

Still, I push out of bed slowly, careful not to wake Roman. He looks devastatingly beautiful with his long lashes fanning above his cheeks and his messy blonde hair flopping in front of his face. He’s peaceful, and for once silent and not trying to get a rise out of me. The entire weekend has been about me and him, and not once has he mentioned the words that slipped from my mouth on Friday night while he was railing me in the bathroom stall.

A warm blush coats my cheeks as I stare at myself in the bathroom mirror. Please don’t break my heart, were the words I uttered as I came down from my climax, my heart racing erratically. If he heard, he never responded, so I’m hoping he didn’t fully hear me since he had his head buried in my neck at the time. It was too vulnerable of a moment, and I’m not quite there with him yet.

Switching on the shower, I strip off and collect my thoughts as I run through the motions of washing my hair and body. I’d set my alarm with plenty of time to eat breakfast—something I rarely do—and beat the traffic to get to the academy. It’s literally a case of getting dressed, drying my hair, and booking a ride.

I’m just rinsing out my hair when the shower curtain slides open and Roman’s sleepy face grins back at me. His hair is sticking out in all directions, but that’s not what captures my attention. His hard cock is pointed right at me as his eyes drink me in, forcing me to take a step back under the water.

“I don’t have time for that!” I protest, gesturing to the weapon between his legs. He already destroyed me last night. I swear a piece of my soul escaped my body around the third orgasm he delivered.

A smug smile widens his lips as he steps under the shower water with me, wrapping his arms around my waist. He presses a hand to the side of my head, holding me against his chest. “I hope you weren’t going to leave without saying goodbye,” he says, his voice thick with sleep.

“I didn’t want to wake you,” I admit softly, turning my head to peek up at him.

“Hmm…” he hums. “If it were anyone else, I’d say I appreciate it. But you’re not anyone, Presh.”

Resting my head against his chest once more, I close my eyes and listen to his heartbeat. It thuds a rhythm that soothes the remaining nerves tumbling through me.

“Want me to take you?” he asks with slight hesitation.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I state. It’s not that I don’t want him to. It’s that it’d be easy to place him. Everyone knows who’s taking over for The Five—luckily that isn’t me, so I’ve managed to keep a low profile throughout my life so far.

With a murmur of agreement, Roman lets go of me and dips his head under the water.

Pushing up, I kiss him firmly on the lips before stepping out of the shower and wrapping myself in a towel. I make my way through the bedroom, quickly brushing and drying my hair before throwing on a pair of slacks and a shirt since it’ll be another six months before we get our uniforms. Thankfully, I bought enough office style trousers and shirts to wear to last a whole year, so I don’t need to worry about running out.

Everything is starting to sink in. The significance of today is so much more poignant than I thought it would be. Today marks the first day of my career—a chance for me to become my own person rather than living beneath my family’s shadow.

My mom was once the most sought-after criminal defense lawyer in New York City. There wasn’t a single case she couldn’t handle with competence and grace. She was a real ball-buster in the courtroom, unwavering and determined. She’s smart and stubborn—probably why she’s still known as one of the most notorious lawyers in the city.

The irony isn’t lost on me. The fact she’s just as well known as The Five—partly because she defended my dad during a murder trial—isn’t the only thing that got her noticed. Aunt Lexie says she was already on her way to greatness before she and my dad got together. It makes me sad in a way that she felt she couldn’t continue to pursue her dream, but between the limelight of The Five casting shadows on her career and the family she wanted to raise, Mom made the decision to focus on what she really wanted.

Now, I’m doing the same.

Glancing down at the gold watch on my dresser, I force away the tears that well up. This isn’t just a gift from my brother, it’s my mom’s watch. This is the one moment I’ll allow myself to feel this; like I’m making someone proud. Varo’s trust in me was a little surprising, my mom not so much, though I do feel bad that she didn’t give her watch to me herself. I guess she’s trying to stay impartial right now if what my brother said is true, and I get it. My dad is probably still raging, which means my mom will be doing whatever she can to diffuse the tension between us.

I had imagined my brother might want to kick my ass, too, but his acceptance came as a relief. He believes in me and he knows I’d never do anything to jeopardize our family without reason. The fact he doesn’t know that reason is testament to the strength of our relationship. I just wish our dad had that same faith.

Closing the box holding the watch, I take a deep breath and grab my phone and keys before heading into the kitchen. Roman is already making coffee, sliding a cup across the kitchen island as I join him.

I take a sip of the steaming hot liquid and order my ride while Roman butters toast in front of me. He’s only wearing his slacks, which is another distraction I could do without this morning. Then again, it’s certainly keeping my worried thoughts at bay.

“You look like a lawyer,” he remarks, taking a bite out of his toast.

Rolling my eyes, I steal the other piece from his plate. It’s not a hearty breakfast, but it’ll have to do.

“You nervous?”

“A little,” I admit, drumming my fingernails on the countertop.

Roman rounds the island, sliding his arms around my waist and resting his chin in the crook of my neck. “You don’t need to be. You’re a Bonanno. You’re a force to be reckoned with, and you’re going to do great.”

His words spread warmth through my chest. I won’t deny that I’m still unsure whether I should be doing this, but it’s a little too late for regret since my family knows. I can’t take back the destruction I’ve caused from this decision, but I can prove to my dad that I’m not going to hurt them any more. Once I’ve graduated, I’ll make sure he knows that despite me changing my name, I’m a Bonanno through and through because that is ultimately what it comes down to. My dad sees this as me betraying him and the empire he built. Joining the police force is like a stab in the back to him, so the only redemption I can take is to show him that I’ll use this opportunity to protect the family.

“I wish you’d let me take you,” Roman grumbles. The heat of his bare chest seeps through my shirt, overwhelming me with comfort and desire. Now isn’t the time for my pussy to get her fix, though, so I turn in Roman’s arms and plant a soft kiss on his lips.

“I need to do this on my own,” I state. “I got this far, I need to see it through.” There’s more to that statement than he probably realizes. I’m not ashamed of the lengths I took to get in, because just my name alone would’ve sparked interest and risked my acceptance. It was a risk in itself to do what I did, but it paid off, and with Lexie’s help through her old connections, it worked. The only problem now is it would only take one person to see me with Roman and I’d be under scrutiny. Remaining as normal as possible is my only choice.

“At least let me know when you get there safely.”

My phone pings with an incoming alert, my Uber driver letting me know he’s arrived. I grab my coat from the hook by the door and blow Roman a kiss. “I will,” I beam at him.

Grabbing the doorknob, I’m just about to step outside when he catches my attention.

“Lani?”

“Yeah?” I answer, looking over my shoulder.

“Kick ass.”

I nod, smiling back at the wink he sends my way. It’s cute that he’s giving me little pep-talks. I can tell by the way he looks at me that he’s worried. Not only is this a huge risk to my safety if someone finds out who I really am, but I’ll be open to criticism at every corner. As long as I keep my head down and smash the course, I think I’ll be okay.

T o say this place is daunting is an understatement. I’ve lost track of how many corridors we’ve traveled through before being led to an auditorium, where we listen to the chief of police introduce himself. Chief Madden stands at the front of the room, all six-foot-six of him, pacing back and forth as he gives us a brief history of his time in the force. He’s had an impressive career in the NYPD, recently taking up the promotion for his current position. You can tell he’s proud of his endeavors, and I have to say I admire him for the shit he’s had to go through.

He smiles every now and again, his wrinkled eyes drifting across the room like he’s analyzing us. Every time his gaze lands on me, I feel my heart skip a beat, and I don’t know why, but I find myself holding my breath just to remain as still as possible. Keep your head down.

For the next forty minutes, Chief Madden runs through the course, detailing our responsibilities now that we have been accepted into the academy—not to be confused with being actual police officers yet.

He continues lecturing about how he expects us to keep things professional, and we all listen with rapt attention, clinging onto every word he says. Despite the authority that underscores his entire demeanor, I sense he’s actually a nice guy. He wants to produce the best of the best, and each intake will reflect his leadership.

Granted, there’s a small percentage of us who will drop out, and those left in the program aren’t guaranteed to pass. I’m prepared for whatever comes my way, but I’m determined not to be added to the statistic of failures.

Then all the tension, harsh words, and arguments with my dad would’ve been for nothing, and I’m not willing to accept that.

Once Chief Madden leaves, we’re introduced to the chief instructor and some of the other members of staff who will be guiding us through the course.

The physical training aspect is what I’m looking forward to the most. I know I’ll sail through the defense tactics and firearms training, but the laws and procedures are something I’m worried I’ll struggle with. Studying has always been my weakness. Don’t get me wrong, I passed all my subjects with a three point seven grade point average, but it didn’t come as easy as it did for Haven. That girl is an academic machine—and she has an eidetic memory, which also helps.

“When do we get to the good stuff?” a voice murmurs quietly beside me.

I turn my head to see who spoke, finding a girl with folded arms huffing impatiently. I can’t resist the smirk that curls my lips because she just said what I assume everyone else in here is thinking.

She’s got long blonde hair tied back in a high ponytail and pink plump lips that are pursed together. Her soft brown eyes meet mine, and for a second, I think she might be judging me. But then she reaches a hand forward, smiling widely.

“Savannah,” she introduces softly. “Strauss.”

I take her hand and give it a gentle shake. “Alanis B—” I clear my throat and glance away, internally cursing myself for failing at the first hurdle. Get it together, Lani. “Caruthers,” I finish.

She quirks a brow skeptically, but instead of questioning me further, she gives me a friendly nod. “Where’re you from?”

“Queens, mostly. You?”

Savannah flicks her ponytail girlishly. “Jersey girl, through and through.”

Thankfully, we’re near the back of the room, so it’s easy to exchange a few words without being spotted. I find out that she’s the same age as me and joined the academy because her father was a police officer for years before taking early retirement due to an incident that left him too injured to work. She doesn’t divulge much more than that, but I get the distinct impression that alone is her motivation.

We talk a little more between the brief interludes as the staff plays musical chairs on the stage. By the time the morning is over, I’ve made a new friend, and I'm certain, a worthy colleague. It’s easy to fall into conversation with Savannah as we take a seat for lunch. The cafeteria we’ve been guided to boasts a selection of meals that we get to choose from; all healthy and packed full of the nutrients our bodies should be getting. I remind myself that I should really get a handle on my eating habits and somehow, Savannah comes in with the exact same thought.

“Ugh, this food makes me feel guilty,” she groans as she digs into her chicken caesar salad.

I laugh and dig my fork into my own salad, agreeing around a mouthful of lettuce. “No more pizza,” I chuckle.

“Oh my god,” she moans, dropping her head. “Pizza!”

It’s not like we’ve been told to change our diet or anything, but the impact that certain foods might have on us and our training is obvious. Especially when it comes to the afternoon orientation, where we get our training kits and head to the gym.

We’re only supposed to be running light drills to get used to the instructors, but fuck , I’m out of breath by the twelfth lap of the gym. Savannah isn’t that far behind me, either. Her cheeks are rosy from the exertion, stray hairs clinging to her sweaty forehead.

I’m suddenly regretting eating so much at lunchtime, because I’m about ten seconds away from hurling.

I fold at the waist, grabbing onto my knees and trying to catch my breath while the instructor barks out orders for us to grab a partner to do warm-ups.

“You mean that wasn’t the warm up?” Savannah pants beside me.

I let out a breathless laugh as I head towards the gym mats, taking a seat on one of them. Savannah plops down opposite me, throwing her head back as the instructor walks by us.

“Label yourselves!” he bellows. “A and B. You each have a minute to do as many sit-ups as you can. Take turns counting. Ready…”

We all shuffle into position, quickly labeling ourselves as instructed.

“Go!”

“Such a ballbuster,” Savannah remarks as she crunches her body towards me. I count every sit-up she completes, calling out when she makes it to twenty. There’s still thirty seconds left, but she’s doing well despite our grumbles over feeling nauseous a second ago.

When time is called, we switch over and it’s my turn to wreak more havoc on my body. I make it to fifty-one sit-ups before time is called again, and the urge to throw up has never been more overwhelming. I’d consider my fitness to be a high standard. I passed the physical tests with flying colors, but nobody warned me this is what we would be doing, otherwise I wouldn’t have filled myself up on lunch.

Things don’t take a turn until our first combat training, when a new instructor comes out to take over. As soon as he steps into the room, my breathing stalls, fear freezing me in place and the familiar urge to vomit returns.

I know that face.

I’ve had to see Ashton Greedy’s face splashed all over billboards for the past five years, but I haven’t seen this one since that night. He was there. I’d recognize it anywhere because you don’t forget trauma like that, let alone the ones who inflicted it.

He surveys the crowd of recruits, but he doesn’t give me more than a passing glance, which tells me he doesn’t recognize me. I don’t know if I should be relieved and I can’t find it in me to care because all I’m focused on is trying to keep my nerves at bay so Savannah doesn’t notice.

“I’m Officer Prescott, and I’ll be leading your self-defense and tactical training,” he announces.

Shit.

I try to ignore the blood-curdling fear and worry that pins me in place as Officer Prescott runs through the legalities of when to use combat in self-defense, when to use force and when not to. All the while, I’m internally criticizing the irony of his words and wondering if it’s possible to change instructors. I don’t even know if that’s an option, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t anxious about spending the next six months under his tutelage. I’ve spent five years trying to forget about what happened. Seeing Ashton Greedy’s face plastered all over the city hasn’t helped, but now I’ve got to spend every day with another one of my attackers.

As if my life isn’t already traumatic and complicated.

A shudder racks through me as I stare mindlessly into the distance. I remind myself that I’m doing this for a reason. As much as I’d like to right now, I can’t quit. I need to stick to the plan because I can’t take down an officer without first becoming one. I just need to keep my head down, excel in all my classes and just hope Roman never asks me about this again. Easier said than done.

Once the introductions and boring regulation speeches are out of the way, Savannah and I pair up, practicing the basic techniques we’ve been shown. I lose myself in the simplicity of it all because this is baby stuff in comparison to what I already know. After all, I had the best teacher. It isn’t until I feel the presence of him that I get distracted, losing my footing as I prepare to sidestep Savannah’s advance. My ankle rolls over and I stagger sideways.

But a pair of hands block me from making a complete fool of myself. I kinda wish I had because it would be far less terrifying than locking eyes with Officer Prescott.

My mouth goes dry and my heart feels like it’s about explode. The closeness of his body makes me nauseous, but much worse than that is the flicker of recognition in his gaze. He remembers me.

Pushing off him; I clear my throat and turn away from him. I can’t risk him knowing that I, too, remember every single thing he did to me that night. I can’t risk anyone knowing that our training officer assaults women. Not yet, anyway.

Without a second glance, he turns away silently, heading towards another group who are sparring. Savannah sends me a curious look, but I don’t even attempt to entertain the silent questions I know are bouncing around in her head.

It isn’t until the session is over and Savannah and I are stumbling out of the academy at ten past five. I feel every muscle in my body scream. My brain feels like it might internally combust, and my nerves are completely fried. What started out as a great first day quickly turned into one from hell and I need nothing more than to take the edge off.

“I feel like I need a stiff drink and a massage,” Savannah groans as we head out the gates.

“Me too,” I laugh nervously. “I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.” It’s a stretch, but it’s what I imagine it to feel like, minus the extensive injuries.

Pulling out my phone, I request an Uber and lean against the wall we’ve come to a stop at. Savannah joins me since we’ve agreed to share a ride. She doesn’t live too far away from me, so it makes sense.

It’s amazing how in such a short space of time—an extremely short space of time—I’ve met someone who is so similar to me. We like the same music, we have the same clothing preferences that aren't office wear, and we like bikes. We have a lot in common, and I can already tell I’ve made a good friend here. Something tells me she’s going to be the person to get me through the next six months, and I’m not complaining at all.