Chapter 1
Chapter One
PAXTON
The last ten years have all been working toward this moment. At the beginning I didn’t know what that would fully entail. Things change, and so do people. It’s all about adapting and being a handful of steps ahead of everyone else.
I’m about to walk into one of the biggest meetings of my life. I reach into my suit jacket to the pocket that I have stitched into every suit that I own and pull out the picture that I always keep there. It’s close and protected. No one knows what I hold most dear in my life.
Except my sister. She has a knack for knowing everything, but she too has been a part of this plan.
Our paths are different, but the goals are the same.
Each step we have taken was to move closer to them.
Now that our father is dead, all has been set into motion.
It didn’t take War Marino long to call. The dirt on my father’s casket is still settling in over it.
“Naomi.” I whisper her name, tracing the edge of the worn picture of a girl that likely has no idea of who I am or the plan I have for the two of us. Soon she’ll find out. While it may seem quick to her, it’s been an eternity for me waiting for her to finally be mine.
We have passed by each other here and there over the years, never having a conversation.
She is a handful of years younger than me.
It’s been a few since the last time we’ve been in the same room, but with how closely she works with her father, I have no doubt she is aware of my name and the connected dealings our families have with each other.
Naomi will be a part of this meeting in every sense of the word except actually being there. I made it very clear that if War wanted to have a meeting and I was coming to his home, it would be only him and me.
I wonder if he told Naomi this. I’m sure that pissed her off, not that anyone would be able to tell. I have never met a person who could remain so neutral in their expression, never giving anything away.
Except if you watch very closely, you can catch small tells.
Then again, maybe only I am equipped to see them.
I have spent the last few years learning everything I can about her.
It was no easy task, but I gained the most knowledge when I was able to watch her from afar when she had no clue anyone was paying close attention to her at all.
In the last year, she has started to venture out more, having made a new friend. That was surprising. Naomi tended to stay close to home when it came to relationships, but the girl she has befriended is now married to one of her cousins.
There are many cousins, but she appears to be closest to two of them. Each is the head of their families, the first born. I’m not quite sure if their closeness is due to being the prospective heads of their families or simply because they were born close together and have remained that way.
I don’t perceive the Marinos to be the type to push each other into working for the family, but it’s clear Naomi is going to, and War doesn’t have a problem with that. If anything, he welcomes it.
I’d been agitated about the friendship at first. The girl, Blair, has a strange past, and now they are all calling her Bonte, and this Blair name has disappeared.
I don’t know the whole story there, but seeing as the girl married into the family, I’m sure it’s all linked together in some way if the family is okay with this marriage. They probably had a hand in it.
I trace my finger over Naomi’s angelic face, a smile tugging at my lips. Angelic is not a word I think many would use when it comes to Naomi. The angel of death, possibly. One that is very capable of taking care of herself. Physically at least.
The question is, does she want to fully take care of herself?
I think not. My angel of death keeps so many parts of herself tucked away, always playing a role for the rest of the world and I even believe for her family at times.
She won’t need to do that for me. I want her exactly the way she is. All the parts of her.
I’m sure in part that has to do with being a woman in her position.
It is abnormal for a woman to step in and take over in an Italian family, especially one as prominent and powerful as the Marinos.
But if I’ve learned anything, it’s that the Marinos don’t play by anyone’s rules but their own. They even make them.
They are a very intriguing family. One that keeps growing in power and wealth. Their ways must be working, but that hasn’t come without pushback. I’d know because after the death of my father, it wasn’t only War Marino who was trying to get his hooks into me.
That was the plan all along. Everything so far has fallen into place.
I tuck the picture back into my pocket as my driver pulls through the gate of the Marino estate that sits outside of the city. They own a massive plot of land that they keep building onto as the family grows.
“Sir?” Arturo says when he sees me remove my gun, placing it on the seat.
“If they want to kill me, Arturo, I’ll be dead, gun or not.” I have entered the lions’ den already.
Besides, if I don’t get what I want, I think I would welcome death. It will all have been for nothing. The monotony of life would slowly kill me on its own. However, I did derive pleasure from the act of killing my father.
“I’ll get my own door,” I tell him when the car rolls to a stop.
I step out onto the stone driveway. This is the original house on the property; it is massive with whole wings to it. It’s been in the family for generations. The home really does give you a taste of Italy.
The giant doors swing open with one of War’s men there to greet me.
“Mr. Monroe.” He gives me a nod, not introducing himself.
I don’t need him to. I know who many of his men are.
I make it my business to know who is coming and going from War’s home.
Not because it’s his but because Naomi stays here more often than not.
There is another location where she will stay occasionally, but for the most part, she always returns here.
“I need to check you.” I nod, holding my arms out so he can search me. “He’s clean,” he says, not talking to me. “This way.” I follow him into the house. The place is impressive and rich with history.
We pass through a staircase that cascades down each side. I glance up, wondering if Naomi is up there. I know she’s home. The Marinos might be tech savvy, but you can’t control who is monitoring the comings and goings from your home. Though once you step onto their land, they know everything.
The guard leads me deeper into the house and toward double doors standing open. The sound of a laugh spills from the room.
“Sir.” He stops at the threshold, his hand gesturing for me to stay put so I can’t see into the office yet. “Mr. Monroe is here.”
Every time I hear someone refer to me with that name, I hate it.
Mr. Monroe is my father, not me, but I can’t change that.
What I can change is what my last name can stand for in the future.
In that, War and I have something in common.
He too has spent the last two decades cleaning up the Marino name.
“Send him in,” I hear War’s deep voice say, and the guard steps to the side so that I can enter.
When I do, I see his wife, Tova, getting up from his lap, her hand dropping away from his face.
She has those same wild dark curls that her daughter has, except Naomi is always trying to keep them pulled back, whereas her mom lets them be.
Naomi really is the spitting image of her mother except for those icy blue eyes. Those she gets from her father. While that may be the only physical trait Naomi shares with her father, she has a significant amount of his personality and demeanor. Their mannerisms can be uncanny at times.
“Paxton.” He stands from behind his desk, snagging his wife around her waist to pull her into his side. She melts right into him, and I can’t help the jealousy that fills me. In time, I’ll have the same. “Do you remember Paxton?” War asks her.
“I think so.” She tilts her head, giving a soft smile.
“It’s nice to see you again, Mrs. Marino.”
“Tova, please,” she corrects. “It’s nice to see you as well, but I’m going to leave you both to it.” Tova drops her head all the way back, and a rare smile forms on War’s face as he leans down to kiss her before she’s heading out of the office, closing the doors behind her.
“Sit.” He motions to one of the chairs in front of his desk. “Can I offer you a drink?” War gives a slight nod to a whiskey bar off to the side.
“I don’t drink but thank you.” I take the seat.
“That’s right, I forgot.” Lie. War Marino doesn’t forget anything, especially about a man he’s let into his home. “I’m sorry about your father.” War sits back down.
“Thank you.” I keep my expression as neutral as his.
“Your father and I had come to an understanding of sorts.” I don’t care what their understanding was before. It died right along with my father.
“I am not my father.”
“I’m not sure who you are.”
“I’m now the man in control of a majority of the docks south of the Carolinas.” That is why we’re here. “A man that’s been getting a lot of interesting phone calls from a lot of Italians.”
“I figured as much. Who?”
“That’s really not your business.”
War leans back in his chair. “You branched out from your father. Took over all of California.” I did, and it wasn’t fucking easy.
Things are a lot different on the West Coast. But I’d done that without my father, all on my own.
I had to rub up on a lot of wealthy people and politicians.
My docks are cleaner. “It’s going to be hard to manage two coasts. ”
“That’s a me problem.”
“What are you even running out of California? You’re a clean-cut boy.”