Chapter 1
Remy Cross
Pulling up to my father’s estate, I tucked my phone into my purse and blew out a deep breath.
I hadn’t set foot back in Baton Rouge for two years, and as soon as I entered the city limits, I got depressed.
There was so much negativity tied to this city for me; I didn’t want to be here any longer than I had to be.
The fleet of black trucks came to a halt in front of my father’s estate, and my driver put the truck in park before he came around to the back seat to let me out.
I chuckled as I ascended the large steps. My father had the most obnoxious, over-the-top house; it almost resembled the White House. He had these long columns on the outside, a water fountain in the front, exotic cars littered along the front yard, just way too much.
“Good afternoon, Miss Cross.” The butler nodded and extended a tray of drinks in my direction. I chuckled. Typical Bronx Cross, only he could find an English butler in the middle of Louisiana.
“Hello,” I replied, declining the drink.
He nodded, opened the door, and led me inside my parents’ home. It had changed since my last visit. There were many upgrades and additions to the structure, but that didn’t surprise me.
I walked through the house to my father’s study. I knew that when he was home, he’d spend most of his time there. Knocking on the door, I heard him on the other side.
“Come in,” he said with his deep voice.
I pushed the heavy door open; the sound of the creaking greeted him before I could.
"Baby girl!" He smiled and stood up, arms wide. I damn near ran into his embrace. I missed him. It's been months since he last came through my city, so I haven't gotten one of these "papa bear" hugs in a while.
“Hi, Daddy. I missed you.” I said into his chest, as he all but smothered me.
“I missed you too. How’s it been?” He asked when he took a seat, and I did the same.
Although we talked every other day, it literally felt like we talked about everything and anything as we passed the time, waiting for my sister and my mother to make it back.
After more than a few minutes of conversation, I could hear my loudmouth baby sister coming down the hallway.
Although FaceTime calls were coming almost every hour on the hour since I had relocated, we hadn’t hung out in a couple of months either.
So, I was excited to see her and my mother too.
“Twin!” she screamed, dropping her bags and running to me.
I hugged her. We were two years apart, but we really did look alike.
Growing up, neither of us could call the other ugly because we had too many of the same features.
I embraced her and then my mother, Shelby.
The mold for us. My mother was over fifty and looked like she could be our big sister.
Her black definitely didn’t crack. She was the picture of beauty.
We chatted for a second and then took seats throughout the office as we waited for the reason for his urgent call.
What had been so important that he had to talk about it in person?
Once our chatter ceased, we turned to him with waiting eyes.
As soon as we did that, his demeanor changed into something more serious.
“I called a family meeting because there are going to be major changes to us as a unit, and to the organization. I got a summons from the elites last week to go to Italy. While I was there, they discussed merging our family business with another, to help us expand and get back on track.” I didn’t respond, just waited to see where he was taking the conversation.
Up until this point, I couldn’t really see why his affairs involved me.
He cleared his throat and looked around at us all. He closed his eyes like he was about to drop a bomb, and once he spoke, that’s exactly what he did.
“The only way they’re considering merging our families is through marriage. They want you and Taylor to marry the two youngest Jennings Mafia bosses on the East Coast, and they are hoping it could bring the organization back to where it’s supposed to be.”
I gave him a look that he knew all too well. I had been there and done that with a klepto psychopath who stole from everybody he came across. I wasn’t willing to go through that again. Not for my father, not for the organization, not for anyone.
“Remy, I know it’s a sensitive subject for you, since you previously lost a fiancé.
But I can assure you, Jaxon is a great guy; he has the respect of the elites, and that says a lot,” he said, pleading his case.
I looked over at Taylor. She didn’t seem fazed and didn’t care either way.
Taylor was always nonchalant like that. If she was hurt, she didn’t say it.
If she were sad, she wouldn’t say it. She was never as expressive as I am. She kept a lot to herself.
"Daddy, it’s not about losing Karlos. What matters is choosing who I spend my life with.
I almost let you make that choice once, but now I know I don’t want that.
" I met his eyes, my voice steady. He nodded, as if he understood, though his glance shifted.
I knew he was still thinking about the organization.
“Remy, this time it’s not me, it’s the elites. We don’t get a choice to say no, you know what happens once they get involved.” I fell back into my chair and threw my arms in the air. My mother came beside me and sympathetically rubbed my shoulder.
When I was in the Weston household, I never told my father about Karlos.
It wasn't to put on a front, but because I didn’t want him to feel worse.
I agreed to marry Karlos so my dad could get out of debt.
Truthfully, my father is the worst businessman in the history of business.
He’d spend two dollars before making one.
I begged him for years to get an accountant who would hold him accountable, not someone who gave in when he started screaming threats.
My father ran through money like he had a money printer.
Bronx Cross would walk into a restaurant and tell the waitress the whole building was on his tab.
He’d go into the casino and put twenty thousand on a single game of roulette.
He lived like he had an endless supply of money.
His businesses suffered a lot because of it.
He would spend the money necessary to pay his bills and keep his businesses afloat.
And he did it for years. In my opinion, it went on way too long before they got sick of it, and the elites told him that they were going to demote him and fold his operation.
When we all got the visit from the Don, we started brainstorming a way to get him back in the green.
One of his options was to ask the Weston family for a loan, in exchange for a cut of the business.
But Karlos had other plans. He wanted me.
Karlos had been trying to pursue me for years, and I never wanted anything to do with him.
Not only was I in a relationship at the time, but they literally called him the Weasel.
Somehow, against my better judgment and everything I had heard about that man, when I realized that my ex wasn’t going to fight for me, I agreed without a second thought.
If it was for the betterment of the family, I could take it to the chin.
But I was not prepared for what I walked into.
Karlos walked around like the world was a 24k toilet for him to shit on.
He disrespected everybody he came in contact with.
His employees, his street workers, and his family.
Nobody was exempt from his treatment. Not only was he rude, but if he could cross you, he’d double-cross you.
But he didn’t even have to. His family was the richest family in Louisiana.
He was just stealing for the love of the sport.
I watched him do business, then set people up to be robbed. That way, he’d recoup his drugs and sell them again, basically doubling his money. Day after day, I sat in that house, wondering why nobody had checked him or how he was still breathing after everything he’d done.
At first, Karlos was kind to me. But I knew that who he was to everyone else was who he was at his core. No matter how many times he gave me that handsome ass smile, I could always see the demon in his eyes.
I knew he was playing the long game, trying to be kind, so I’d part my legs for him.
I gave him some bullshit excuse about being a virgin, saving myself for marriage.
I slept in a different room and declined his nightly attempts to sneak into my bedroom.
As months passed, his mask began to fall.
Sometimes, he broke character and spoke to me like everyone else.
He’d get upset if I spoke to his male workers, watched me like a hawk, and pressured me to sleep with him.
I knew I’d never walk down the aisle. And if I did, it would never be to marry him.
“Remy!” My father said as he snapped me out of my thoughts about the fate of the last time we had this talk.
“Yeah?” I cleared my throat as I sat up straight and shook off my feelings.
“Did you hear me? I said that we’re relocating to New York.” The words rolled off his tongue like he just hadn’t thrown me the biggest curveball.
I stood to leave, and he stood behind me and grabbed my elbow.
“Remy, I’m sorry,” he said quickly.
“If you’re really sorry, do better. You’re in a twenty-million-dollar house, you have over a million dollars in exotic cars, and an entire staff of people.
You woke up last week on a whim and spent sixty thousand dollars on three Tibetan Mastiffs.
Sixty bands on dogs, Dad! Haven’t you learned by now that your decisions are still affecting us even into adulthood?
” I pulled my elbow away from him and walked out the door with him still on my heels, calling my name.