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“Where are our mothers’ bodies?” I asked as I turned to my husband, lifting my hands.
He tossed two switchblades into my hands.
Bumbie and Jered reached for their weapons.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” I pointed at the red dots on their foreheads.
“Yeah, my husband and I brought plenty of back up. Nice touch, Dad. Sending your men to tail us around town. My husband was always three steps ahead.”
Franco strolled toward me, pointing at Bumbie and Jerod. “Piero, take their weapons.”
Clip tapped his earbud. “Bonnie and Vigo stay put. Saro, grab two other guys to help you and Remo, escort the guests off the premises quietly.”
Franco’s arms looped around my waist and his lips skated over my neck. “She’s perfect. You know what I love most about her?”
He wasn’t really looking for an answer.
“Her beautiful cinnamon skin. She’s fucking gorgeous. I’m overly obsessed with this woman. The way she handles a knife makes me want to do naughty things to her.”
I caressed my husband’s angular jaw, then kissed his lips.
“I’ll be right over there if you need me.” Franco ambled back to the sofa, where Clip and Piero stood on either side.
“Ok,” I whispered before turning my attention to my dad and uncle.
“Dad, I know why you and Uncle Anson killed our mothers. I overheard you and mom arguing. She wanted to take me on a trip. You wouldn’t let her. I think she wanted to take me away from this life. You shut her down. She loved me for who I was. Every time my horrible half-sisters tortured me and said I was black and ugly, Mom punished them. That woman adored me because I was her child. Not because I possessed the skill to run an empire.”
“I’ve had enough,” Dad roared. His chest heaved like a lion.
“You’ll run this fucking business,” he snarled.
The knife released from my hand, plunging into his shoulder, forcing him to stagger back. He plopped into his chair like an unfazed African king. His eyes widened when he realized what I’d done.
Striking my father sent knots twisting in my stomach. I struck the man who raised me in his image to run a billion-dollar empire.
“I thought Uncle Anson plotted to kill me because I asked him for help. Now that I think about it, you ordered those men to turn on me. Making it appear like a drug deal gone bad. They shot me.” I pointed at my belly.
I narrowed my eyes. “Dating a white man was my second mistake, right? Walking away from you was my first.”
Dad tore the knife from his chest like it was a popsicle stick.
Uncle Anson ran a hand gruffly over his face. His jaw twitched. He looked like he was about to burst.
“I reminded you of mom, didn’t I? The way I stood up for myself by leaving. Then I survived without you.”
I glanced at my cousin. “Quinn, I don’t think Uncle Anson wanted to kill Auntie Mae. My dad had experience killing. He killed Keziah and Isadora’s mother.”
My insides were raw with emotion. My father gutted me. “I loved you, Dad. But you couldn’t forgive me for leaving. I was to control this empire for the rest of my life. Marry who you wanted. None of this was for me. It was all about your greed. You wanted to retire. Relax on a private beach while I ran the legitimate businesses and washed the money from the drug sales.”
“Mae was the best thing that ever happened to me. She made me a better man. I never wanted to hurt her. Or you Kennedy.”
Dad’s eyes darkened. “Shut up, Anson,” he bit out.
“Son.” Anson’s eyes fell on Quinn. “I didn’t want this life for you.”
“Shut the fuck up, Anson,” Dad growled.
A single tear rolled down Uncle Anson’s caramel cheek. “I love you, son.”
