Chapter 20 #2
It didn’t surprise me that my mother wasn’t here. My father hated her attending events that could put her in danger. Political gatherings were always risky.
When Benny glanced up, seeing us, he signaled for me to come over. They walked away from the mayor moments before we reached them.
“Who’s this?” my father asked, his cold stare fixed on Blair.
I hadn’t given them a heads-up that I was bringing her with me, for this very reason. He’d warned me not to.
Blair scooted closer to me, as if I was suddenly her protector.
That’s right, sweet Fawn.
See me as that.
See me as all you have.
Because then it’ll prove just how much I own you.
I didn’t blame her. My father was fucking terrifying.
It was why I admired him so much.
His name instilled fear in people.
Even looking at him made them cower.
Benny carried that same stature, and when people looked at me when I entered the cathedral, I felt it too. The Marchettis were feared, no matter what age bracket you were in.
“Blair,” I answered, offering no further explanation.
I wouldn’t with Blair present or in public.
He nodded, but the displeasure was clear on his face.
Heat crept onto Blair’s cheeks as she started to raise her hand to shake my father’s, but quickly caught on that it wasn’t a good idea.
Her arm collapsed to her side as my father looked away from her.
He left us and walked toward the New York governor, pulling him into the conversation that needed to be had.
We were trying to make a deal here.
Word was, the new city sheriff wanted to make trouble for us.
That meant the sheriff would be dead soon, and we needed to make sure no trace of evidence led back to us.
Benny, having some kind of fucking manners, nodded at Blair.
She tipped her head toward him timidly, bowing almost.
I led us to the end of the back pew. We sat there silently as I took in my surroundings. Brooks and Adelina stood at the nave of the cathedral with their parents, speaking to the senator and his wife.
Nothing in Brooks’s demeanor suggested that he was responsible for Hedgeford lying cold inside that casket. Well, what was left of him.
Unfortunately, the family had chosen a closed casket. I’d already texted Brooks to ask because I wanted to see what they’d managed to do with the body. It turned out that piecing him back together had been too gruesome for public viewing.
I couldn’t stop myself from smirking as I remembered the night we’d planted the bomb under the current corpse’s car. While I usually preferred to stay and watch my work in action, we couldn’t be caught in that area.
It seemed we hadn’t been careful enough. Being caught on camera was embarrassing, and I’d never let it happen again. It wasn’t only the Sons at risk if we were caught. My family was also on the line.
My gaze drifted to Adelina and the First Lady. Adelina hugged the senator’s wife, who was weeping uncontrollably.
I smirked at Adelina flinching when a bit of snot from the senator’s wife landed on the shoulder of her black dress.
All of us were so good at pretending.
As I glanced sideways, I found Blair also watching them.
She didn’t seem surprised or awed by seeing the heads of our country. Cracking my neck, I wondered if she was around people like this often, and that was why she was so comfortable.
Fuck, I needed to find out who her stepfather was.
We slid over when my father and Benny approached our pew, making room for them to sit. Other people started taking their seats as the priest stepped to the podium, tapping the microphone to check it.
When he started speaking, I pulled out my phone. I caught up on emails, the latest news, and researched Hedgeford’s sister. We needed dirt on Hedgeford to ruin his father’s campaign, but if we couldn’t find enough, we’d resort to his sister as backup.
My father and Benny were also on their phones.
Benny, next to me, tapped his foot, as bored as I was.
The priest babbled on about Hedgeford’s life and mediocre accomplishments.
First off, who the fuck named their kid that?
It sounded like a fucking landscaping company.
When my phone started to bore me, I slipped my attention to Blair.
Her posture was perfect, like always, as she sat with her hands folded in her lap. She listened to the priest, taking in his words, not pretending like most of us.
I shifted in the pew, my dick getting hard as I stared at her.
I craved to feel those plump pink lips around my cock again.
Leaning in closer, I noticed a glimpse of a mark around her slim neck.
Just a tiny one.
I licked my lips, wishing I could trail my tongue along that mark.
Her hair was pulled back in a black bow. I had a feeling she’d done that because she wanted to get back on my good side after the little cord incident.
I’d had Seraphina order Blair’s funeral dress. I was going to burn something in Seraphina’s room for ordering something so bland and boring. The sleeves hit above Blair’s elbows, and the length reached her knees.
It wasn’t what I’d have chosen, but I had been too caught up in planning her Initiation to worry about funeral clothes.
Unable to stop myself, I lowered my hand and brushed it along her thigh.
Her attention left the priest, looking over at me, and when she attempted to scoot over, her hip hit the woman’s beside her.
“Sorry,” she grumbled to the woman, shooting me a dirty look.
I reached down and ran my thumb along the mark on her neck.
She bit into her bottom lip, but didn’t pull away, not wanting to make a scene.
Benny’s voice pulled my attention away from Blair.
“Since when do you bring women around?” he asked in a hushed voice beside me.
“Since Dad forced me to attend stupid shit like this,” I remarked with a huff.
“I’m not happy about this either.” He shoved his elbow into my side, causing me to grunt. “We’re here because of you. Hopefully, you learned your fucking lesson.”
My tone lowered so only he could hear my words. “I’ll make sure my blowing-up skills get better.” Tension built up in my neck as the words left me. I hated making mistakes.
The funeral dragged on for three fucking hours.
Three hours of my life wasted on this bullshit.
I almost stood and asked them to speed this shit up.
No way that idiot’s life deserved three hours of mourning by strangers.
When the funeral finally ended, we followed my father and Benny outside. I led Blair down the sidewalk toward the corner, my hand plastered at the base of her back but wanting to venture lower.
“A word,” my father said to me.
I nodded, giving Blair a glance that I hoped said, Keep your ass there, and walked along the edge of the grass. Benny joined us as my father stared at me sternly, a slight frown on his face.
“Do not bring a woman with you to something like this again.” He jabbed his finger in my face, though still kept his composure. “I’m looking for a wife for you. Women don’t want their potential husbands parading other women around. If you want to fuck her, fuck her, but keep it discreet.”
I held back from telling him she was my Fawn.
My father wasn’t a fan of the Fawn ordeal.
I shoved my hands into my pockets, annoyed but trying to conceal it. “Still on that arranged-marriage kick?”
Benny shook his head at my disrespect.
My father’s face turned rigid. “Sure fucking am. And I will be until I find your wife and you say your fucking vows.” He violently shook his head. “Make problems for me, and I won’t be picky about my selection.”
“Will you do the same with Seraphina?” I questioned.
Benny blew an upward breath.
“No, and watch your mouth.” My father’s finger was in my face again.
“You know your role in this family. The male responsibilities are arranged marriages. Period. It won’t change with you.
With anyone. Ever.” He scratched the side of his nose, gaining his composure.
“And before you leave, the president wants to speak with you.”
“You have no idea the amount of damage that you’ve caused.”
A gleeful smirk spread across my face as I watched the president of the United States throw a baby-ass tantrum like someone had stolen his favorite binky.
He hurled a glass of whiskey across the makeshift office in the laundromat. It was a business through which Antonio laundered money.
He allowed us to hold meetings with the president here because it was too risky elsewhere.
The glass collided with the wall, shattering, and reminded me of breaking the shower glass earlier with Blair.
Seeing President Byron lose his shit over the senator was comical. Any sane man would’ve just killed the senator and gone about his day.
Well, any man in my world.
The rest of the world, if the men couldn’t pull triggers easily, they paid us to do it.
President Byron slammed his hand on the rusted metal desk as he glued his eyes to Brooks and me seated in front of him.
“Do you have any idea how this has hurt my campaign?” His face turned as red as a fucking tomato.
“You saw how many people attended his funeral. His idiot fucking son’s death resonated with voters and boosted his popularity.
The margins have slimmed.” His upper lip snarled. “The public feels bad for him.”
“I don’t feel bad for him,” I said from my chair, shrugging.
To further show my disrespect toward everyone, I propped my foot up on the desk and examined a hangnail on my index finger.
President Byron shot me a sharp, disapproving glare.
He needed to correct his fucking attitude, or my little vote would go to the senator. Brooks shook his head before burying his face in his hands.
President Byron’s glare intimidated me the same way Barney the dinosaur did. He grabbed another glass from the desk, poured himself a fresh whiskey, downed it in one gulp, and smashed the glass onto the desk.
Brooks dropped his hands. “Let’s leak damaging stories about Hedgeford. We can easily make people turn on the senator if we make them believe the son brought his death on himself.”