Precious Legacy (The Notorious Legacy #1)

Chapter 41

FORTY-ONE

M y lungs burn like a match has been lit in my chest, fire licking at the walls inside until every breath hurts.

“Such a shame… you were my best student.”

My airways constrict. I’m gasping, clawing at the edges until I shoot out of bed. Sweat clings to my skin while I chase the oxygen I’ve been deprived of. My entire body aches from Prescott’s assault. My ribs, my throat, my face. I don’t even want to look in the mirror for fear of what I might see. Roman’s reaction earlier tonight was enough.

“Presh,” Roman’s voice clears my head, gentle yet hoarse. It soothes my erratic heartbeat like a balm to the soul.

Turning, I look back at where he’s laid, arms outstretched and waiting for me. His hair is a mess, probably from our impromptu shower last night where he focused more on cleaning me and keeping me warm than he did on drying himself off. His suit is in a damp heap on the floor, meanwhile I couldn’t find the energy last night to get out of the soft beige tee and matching joggers he put me in.

I fall against his chest, the only safe space I need right now. His embrace is like a security blanket protecting me from the world. It’s the first time I’ve ever felt like I need it. I know that doesn’t make me weak, but I’ve spent so long trying to prove to everyone around me that I can look after myself that actually needing someone feels alien.

“It’s okay, you’re safe.” His fingers comb through my hair as my mind reels back to last night. I honestly don’t know what I would have done if he hadn’t arrived when he did. Nothing, because you’d be dead. I’m still in shock after everything that happened, but the one thing I wasn’t expecting was relief. Relief that Prescott is gone.

I shiver as my turbulent thoughts race around my head. Daylight is breaking, casting shadows through the unlit room. I don’t even want to think about what’s going to happen to me next week. No doubt Prescott’s death will be announced everywhere, I’ll probably be investigated since he was at my apartment, and I’ll inevitably be kicked out of the program. The latter isn’t my biggest concern, not anymore. But the thought of what this spells for me and my family is definitely what has me worried the most.

Letting Roman’s warmth wrap around me, I finally drift off back to sleep. He brings a kind of peace I never thought he could. Through our rollercoaster of a relationship, he’s somehow managed to calm me, like a silent promise of tranquility. It isn’t until I wake up again to the cold side of the bed that the panic returns.

Pushing out of the bed, I make my way to the bedroom door. I can hear voices; gentle voices that envelop around me and have me exhaling heavily. There’s several of them, all familiar, yet they feel so far away. I head downstairs, following them until I’m outside the kitchen.

“I thought all that shit was put to rest?” I hear Roman’s dad huff.

“There was no way of knowing,” my own father replies.

The floorboards creak beneath my bare feet, causing the conversation in the kitchen to pause. I peek my head out sheepishly. I should know better than to listen in, but I’m still self-conscious about my current state.

“Sweetheart,” Mom coos, coming to wrap her arms around me and guiding me to the kitchen island. “Do you want something to eat?”

I glance at Roman and my brother, who are both watching me carefully from the corner of the room. But they’re not alone—Roman’s parents are here, too, making the large kitchen feel smaller than normal.

“Coffee is fine,” I mumble, feeling how raw my voice sounds. It’s like sandpaper rubbing together, and when I reach up to rub my throat, I wince. Everything starts flooding back to me—the attack, Prescott trying to kill me, me reaching for the gun and…

“Lani?”

“Huh?” I snap my gaze to my dad, who approaches me carefully. Last night was the first time I’d seen true fear in his eyes. Sure, it was also mixed with anger, but I could practically taste his simmering anxiety. The little words he whispered in my ear were everything, though. “I’ve got you, baby girl.”

Pulling me against his chest, Dad kisses the top of my head. “You need to eat something.”

“I’m not hungry.”

I hear the irritation as he sighs, but thankfully, he doesn’t push me. He just holds me for a while, and just like I felt with Roman, it’s exactly what I need.

“What were you guys talking about?” I ask, taking the coffee mug from my mom. Coffee feels like the only savior for my throat right now. I usually enjoy the steaming temperature, but peering down at the dark liquid between my palms, I don’t think I want to irritate my vocal chords any further.

Roman clears his throat and I turn to face him. I know he’s not looking at me like he should. His focus is over my shoulder, as if he’s silently asking my dad’s permission to speak. After a second or two, he finally nods. “We were discussing… erm…”

“It’s okay,” I rasp. “You can say his name.” I don’t like the way he’s looking at me right now. It’s like he’s afraid to rehash what happened last night. Tiptoeing around me will only piss me off, though.

“We were discussing what happened,” he explains.

“And?”

“We know why Prescott came after you.”

I swallow the lump that forms in my throat. Payback, that’s what Prescott said, but payback for what?

“He was related to someone from your dad’s past,” Roman continues. “His brother was killed years ago?—”

“The same brother that…” I look at Mom, remembering the threat she cast in Prescott’s direction the night I was arrested.

“Not him, sweetheart. This was someone else.” She’s vague with her response, and I can tell there’s more to it than she’s prepared to divulge to the rest of the room.

“So who was it?” I frown. I’m still trying to understand why he was even at my place last night, how the man who assaulted me is also connected to my family in another way. I freed him from Roman’s torture, and killing me was… what? My punishment? For what, surviving him?

Roman shifts uncomfortably on the spot, his gaze traveling to where my dad sits.

“It doesn’t really matter, now,” Dad says. “He’s dead, and I wouldn’t hesitate to do it again.” I notice his fists bunching up, a telltale sign that speaking about it conjures up bad memories. It’s only when mom comes to his side, tucking herself in with his arm that I put the puzzle together. Dad loves Mom unequivocally. He’d do anything to protect her and this family because he’s fierce like that. I can tell there’s a lot to unpack there, but for now, I keep my mouth shut and return my attention to Roman.

“Prescott clearly wanted to hit the family where it hurts, and he had such easy access to you that… well…”

“I was the perfect revenge.”

He nods before stepping towards me.

“But I thought this was all to do with the Russians?” I question.

Leaning on the countertop beside me, he links his hands together, exuding all the shadowy confidence a man in his power should. “He was, but we’re guessing it was just so he could pin your… death… on them. It would obviously start a war and he was counting on just that.”

My thoughts are a jumbled mess as I stare down at my mug of cooling coffee. Being the pawn in a vendetta that spans my entire life is a bitter pill to swallow. Nobody can tell how long Prescott had that plan in the pipeline, but now he’s dead, it doesn’t even matter.

“He said I was payback,” I murmur. “It makes sense now.”

“Don’t let what happened set you back, Alanis.” Dad rests a hand on mine, his lips curling into a sincere smile.

“I won’t.”

“Good,” Dad smirks, tapping my hand with his. “Because you’re stronger than any of that.”

“You’re only just realizing this?” Mom chimes in, tutting before sipping on her own coffee.

Dad only snorts at her little dig. I love their dynamic, even if my dad can be suffocating at times. I’ve since come to the understanding that it’s in his nature to want to protect us. I’ve felt so trapped by his words and actions that I didn’t stop to think about the reasons why he is the way he is.

“So what’s going to happen to Prescott?” I hesitate to ask, glancing at Roman.

“You don’t need to know, sweetheart.” Reaching a hand behind me, Dad strokes my back soothingly. “The less you know, the better.”

Frowning, I peer over my shoulder at him. “That’s…” I take a deep breath, but it does nothing to calm the rising inferno of rage within me. I have a right to know what’s going to happen to the dead body in my apartment. “That’s not fair,” I protest. “I want to know. I have a right to know.”

Varo steps forward, his eyes dark and filled with determination. Being twins, we have the exact same colored eyes, but Varo has this ability to portray his emotions through them; I swear they change color based on his mood. “You can’t know, Lani. Not if you’re going to be a cop,” he states.

My mouth gapes. Does he think I’ll betray him? Does he think I’m incapable of keeping his secrets?

“Prescott is dealt with,” Varo tells me assertively. “Now you just need to focus on what you want to do.”

“If you still want to join the NYPD, that is.” Dad smiles down at me, and it’s a comforting gesture that has me smiling back.

“I do,” I reply with conviction. It’s the one thing I haven’t changed my mind about. It’ll take a minute for this all to sink in, but I make a silent promise that I will get through the next few months. I still have my morals, even if they’re a little greyer than before. I want to make something of myself that doesn’t involve The Five, and even though that means I’ll have to cross lines to meet the needs of the family, I’m willing to do that. “There’ll be an inquiry into his death.”

Nobody has brought up the huge elephant in the room and I get the sense they don’t want to. Whether they’re aware of what Prescott did to me all those years ago or not, I’m grateful that everyone is keeping quiet. After all, there’s nothing to be said. He’s dead and so are Ashton and his friend.

“We’ve got it covered.” Roman nods at my brother in confirmation.

“Someone will notice he’s missing, though!” I can’t stop the tumble of worries from falling out. “Anyone could have seen him last night, and it wouldn’t take much to put two and two together. Prescott can’t be the only one who knew who I was. Even Savannah figured it out!”

“Baby girl,” Dad says gently. “You don’t need to worry about any of that. Just focus on the academy and leave the rest to us.”

I don’t even know what that means, but I’m suddenly resentful that I never took the time to understand the family business as much as my brother. I can hazard a guess that it has something to do with covering mine and Roman’s asses, because it wasn’t me that killed Prescott last night. As much as I wanted it to be me, it was Roman that pulled the trigger.

I think I’ll forever be scarred from that moment, when time froze and my life flashed before my eyes. I’ll never forget the fear and panic that crawled through me as I fought for my life. But most of all, I’ll regret not letting Roman handle Prescott in the first place.

Maybe dad’s right, not knowing is safer for me. Whatever narrative Roman and my brother weave, I have to trust that it won’t come back on me.

“Cleanup is confirmed,” Ryder announces before pocketing his phone. His features are hauntingly similar to his son’s. The icy glare, the sharp jawline, the shadowy demeanor… they’re all Genovese traits that are both terrifying and captivating.

“Good,” Dad says before turning to Roman. “You think you can handle the rest?”

The rest?

“Haldon is already on it.”

“On what?” I interject. I’m starting to get really irritated by all the secrecy and vague conversations. Regardless of my plans to join the NYPD, I’m still a part of this family.

“It’s a surprise, Presh,” Roman smirks at me. I hate how delicious he looks, but more than that, I hate surprises and he knows it.

“Ro and I have a few things to tie up,” my brother announces, patting Roman on the back. They make a hasty exit before I can question them about why they’re being so secretive. I know that those two have their own relationship and I never want to come between that, but if it involves me, I’ll be the first to rip them a new one.

“We’re going to head out,” Ryder declares, wrapping his arm around his wife’s waist. “Sloan has some meetings.”

Sloan’s been such a valuable member of women’s support against domestic violence and abuse that she founded White Ribbon, a charity built to support and protect women who have become victims of assault. She’s always so busy with meetings and galas that it’s a wonder she has time for anything else. I can understand why she throws herself into the charity so much. She suffered a similar incident before Roman was born. While we don’t talk about it, we all know about it and what’s worse is Roman’s father was the one to dish the punishment out… on his own father no less.

That sort of trauma is something I admire her coming back from. It’s also why I offer her my appreciation when she stops beside me as she’s leaving to pull me into a hug. “You know where I am if you need to talk.”

I’m not sure I’m ready for that just yet, because I’m barely coming to terms with my own past. Even though it was five years ago, I’ve buried it for so long that it’s taken me until now to really acknowledge everything.

I should never have blamed Roman for what happened that night. Sure, he has his flaws, his own demons and regrets, but we were both just kids, blindly following our own motivations. Roman was mine, and I made the wrong call that night. But if there’s one thing I can say, it’s that I’ve learned from my mistakes. In more ways than one.

Roman accepted my anger towards him and harbored the blame because I said so. He’s proven to me so much over the past couple of months that he’s here to stay, showing me just how sorry he is, even though he didn’t need to be. Despite that, he was willing to do whatever it takes to keep me safe, and though it’ll take some time for me to get used to it, I have to let him in.

I have to let him do his job, and that includes protecting me.