Page 9 of Precious Legacy

As for Alanis, I need to know what her motivations are. Why the hell does she want to switch sides? It doesn’t bode well for us when she knows everyone’s secrets. She’s going to be The Five’s weakness—even more so than she is right now.

“Look,” he sighs, standing up and heading towards me. “I don’t know what happened between you two, and I’d rather not get in the middle of it.”

My jaw flickers with irritation because I know as much as he does about why his sister hates me. I know I didn’t leave on good terms—if you can call it that. We were both young, and she understood my role within my family. She just didn’t agree.

“You and I both know my sister. You leaving fucked her up and you need to fix it.”

“So much for being the big brother,” I comment. “Shouldn’t you be kicking my ass?”

Alvaro laughs, pushing past me to cradle the punching bag in his arms. “Nah, Alanis can handle herself. I’d just get in the way. Plus, I’m only older by two minutes. Don’t fuel the fire, bro.”

I can’t help but laugh, knocking our knuckles together as I move into position in front of the punching bag.

“How are things with her and your dad?” I ask, giving the bag a few light jabs.

He sighs back in response, shaking his head again. “I don’t know, man. I feel like he wants the best for Alanis, but they keepclashing. She wants nothing to do with the family business, Dad wants her to claim her rightful role. Mom’s just in the middle, trying to prevent them from ripping each other’s heads off.”

“And what does Alanis want?” I press, giving the bag a harsh right hook that knocks Alvaro sideways slightly. I already know what she wants if that letter is anything to g by, but does her twin?

“Fuck knows,” he shrugs. “Doesn’t even matter, really. Dad just won’t let go. She’ll always be his precious girl, even if she hates it.”

I file those tiny bits of information away for later as we fall into a comfortable silence, my fists beating heavily on the bag until my arms ache and my gym tank is drenched in sweat. We switch up positions, me taking the bag to keep it steady while Alvaro works out his own aggression on it. We don’t talk—sometimes there’s just nothing to say—and the last thing I want to do is expose Alanis’ secret. I can understand Alanis’ reasons for not telling me. We haven’t exactly been on great terms since I left. But Alvaro is my best friend, so if he knew about this and didn’t say anything, that betrayal stings more.

After an hour of beating the shit out of the bags, we pack up and head back to Alvaro’s apartment. I’m staying with him until I find my own place. I could stay with my parents up in New Jersey, but I need to get started on my plans with the gambling dens and fight rings. It’s just too inconvenient to travel that far on a daily basis, and logistically, it makes sense for me to be close to everything.

While the dens are pretty much established, they’re not turning over much profit. Originally, it was Uncle Trigger’s side of the business, but he just let things run their course. He handed it over to me a couple of years back, taking a backseat from the organization. Since he doesn’t have an heir, he felt Iwas best suited to run the dens. I’ve not had much input though, because I’ve been on the other side of the states.

I’ve learned a lot from the West Coast. Vegas is renowned for its casinos and gambling, and spending five years out there gave me a lot of insight. It also made me wary of who not to cross, which is why I’m going to need Alvaro’s help if what he says about the Russians is true.

“I figured we could go meet up with Haldon,” Alvaro suggests as we head up to his apartment. “He’s got some sway with the Russians, so he might have some intel.”

I drop my bag onto the bed and grab a towel from the cupboard. I’m pretty much two steps ahead of Alvaro when it comes to tonight. I was already planning on meeting up with Haldon, I just hadn’t contacted him yet. “I want to run by The Laundromat first,” I say, heading to the connected bathroom. I flick the water on and wait for it to warm up.

The Laundromat is just a cover for one of my backdoor gambling dens. The front of the shop is exactly what it is, a laundromat. But for the right people, there’s a nightly poker game that attracts all kinds of attention.

“Someone behind on payments?” Alvaro asks as he leans against the doorframe, folding his arms over his chest.

“Just need to pay them a visit, gently remind them that just because Colombo isn’t calling the shots anymore, doesn’t mean they can walk all over me.”

It’s the first time I’ll be showing my face since Trigger handed over the reins to me. I know that the hosts have been shaving money off the top of profits. Hell, I’d be offended if they didn’t. It gives me the opportunity to assert my authority, give them a taste of what I can do if they don’t follow the rules.

“Want me to call Haldon for backup?” Alvaro asks.

“No,” I reply, shrugging off my tank. “Our presence will be enough. We can update him later.”

FIVE

Coffee: 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 shedoesn’tknow, 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.

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