Page 99 of Heartless Mafia Prince

I lowered her to the floor. Jeremiah and Genevieve stepped up.

He winked at Genevieve and she rolled her eyes. It had to be a girl thing. Why did girls show attitude all the time? Was it to show they weren’t hung up on us when indeed they were?

Ryah clapped. “Come on, Genevieve, show him what you got. You’re a star player on the girls' basketball team. Don’t let him beat your ass.”

Yareli and Faith elbowed Ryah.

“What? I need her to focus. Jeremiah is an all-American,” she whispered.

The buzzer sounded, and they threw their balls into the baskets like they were at war. Not a friendly basketball shootout. The second the last ball slipped through the hoop; Jeremiah stepped back.

“What the fuck? A tie.”

I clapped my hand on his shoulder. “Didn’t see that coming, huh?”

“Not at all.”

He slapped Genevieve on the ass.

Her dark eyes widened, and she squealed. “Jeremiah.”

“Good game, Gen.”

Now he was shortening her name? Yeah, he liked her. I’d get to the bottom of that situation soon enough.

We watched the last of our friends’ games. They weren’t nearly as close as the first two.

Faith tried her best. But only managed to get five balls into the basket. Briar laughed the entire time. He found humor in everything. That was him. In his defense, the game was comical. Faith had no rhythm. She over reached several times trying to land a basket.

Easton didn’t go easy on Yareli either. She got so upset instead of throwing the balls in the basket she threw a few at him. Everyone burst into laughter.

“I’m going out on a limb, Yareli, and say that isn’t how the game is played. You can’t get mad at Easton for his height advantage over you,” Briar chuckled.

I clapped my hands. “Great game, everyone. Now let’s eat.”

A day of fun in my life had to be planned. My men had walked the premises upon our arrival. Agosto made sure the manager knew what time we’d eat lunch. That way the waitresses would be waiting outside of our private party room.

We walked between two long tables inside the spacious bright room. The tables were set for thirty guests. We only had eight people in our party. Three flat screen TVs hung on the cream-colored walls. A picture of downtown Philly stared back at us over the buffet table in the back of the room. One of the tables had been turned sideways for me and Ryah. I pulled out a chair for her. We sat at the head of the table facing the entrance. Ryah and I could never be too careful. We had to take precautions. That meant we carried guns in our ankle holsters. Didn’t want to freak out our friends by wearing them on our waists. The two bodyguards standing at the party room entrance had to put a damper on our friends’ fun. They were reminded they were in the company of dangerous people. Whose enemies could strike at any time. Knowing one of our friends could lose their life because of us played on my conscious. We wouldn’t make hanging out with them outside of school a regular thing. Typically, we kicked it with Mara, Josh, Gian, and Bosco. I didn’t want to hang with Bosco any time soon. Ripping his face off was more of what ran through my mind.

The waitresses took our orders, then disappeared.

Yareli and Genevieve sat between Easton and Jeremiah.

Briar sat on the other side of Faith. And she sat beside Ryah.

“Anyone up for a little vodka?” Yareli lifted her small brown designer leather purse backpack.

“Thank God, maybe this will make up for you slapping the shit out of me with those basketballs.” Easton shook his head.

She nudged him. “Don’t be a pussy. The pain makes you a stronger man,” she said, in a thick Russian accent.

The waitresses appeared with four pitchers of soda.

The second they walked out of the room, Yareli passed the fifth of Stoli under the table. We each poured the equivalent of a double shot over the ice in our glasses.

Easton stood, raising his glass. Everyone followed suit. “Rocco, your party was dope. Thanks for inviting us out this afternoon. Here’s to the birthday boy. Cheers!”

“Salute,” Ryah shouted.

---