Page 2 of Havoc

My father’s ex-wife and my closest confidante growing up. She was quietly dabbing the corners of her eyes and keeping it together, like a true queen. She’d always been right for him, and in fact had still been one of his closest advisors and friends even after he married my trashy mother. I knew she had still loved him, and she sobbed for him right now, but somehow, I still didn’t feel bad about what I had done.

The only reason my father had become the head of the crime family was because of Sonora. She’d been the daughter of Constantine, the head at the time, and then she’d met Gideon. He’d been taught everything by Constantine, including how to treat women with as little respect as possible. That’s how it all began, and when Constantine was killed, my father battled it out to claim his seat at the head of the table, taking Sonora as his wife. I knew he still loved her too, but he was the head of the family, he had to have a sparkling wife to show off. One who didn’t mind putting herself together and flirting with those Gideon wanted to do business with, Sonora wasn’t about that. No…she was a true queen, one who could easily take out an entire cartel with just a blink of an eye.

And I idolized her for that.

If only she could have made him understand that sending me away was a mistake, maybe he wouldn’t be dead and I could be living happily with Lennon.

Shit.

Lennon.

Why did I have to think about him right now? The one and only boy I’d let into my heart, and I’d crushed his. All for the sake of my own father’s love. My own father’s acceptance.

For ten years I’d learned to hate, to retaliate, to kill. I’d been tortured, poisoned, beaten, psychologically beaten to a pulp, and it was all for this moment.

I was ready for this.

And no one was going to get in my fucking way.

~

I stood at the top of the stairs of the church, watching everyone leave with my thick black sunglasses over my eyes to hide the fact I didn’t care one iota he was dead. The service was over and had been for at least ten minutes but my mother was making her last dramatic scene with my father’s coffin, weeping and shrieking over it as noisily as she could, making everyone feel uncomfortable. That was when Sonora walked up beside me.

“Good to see you, honey,” she said in her motherly tone. A tone I’d never heard from my own mother.

I watched all the police sitting in their cars taking photos of the attendants of the funeral, this was their way of knowing who was still alive in our organization. We had a justice system of our own, and people disappeared regularly.

“Thank you,” I replied to her without looking her way. This was no time to form attachments again, I had a plan, and I was going to stick to it.

“Sad about his passing?” she asked me, probably trying to gauge my reactions. She’d always been good like that.

“I think you know the answer to that, Sonora.”

“You sound hard, Presley,” she said, saddened. “Cold, and hard. Where did you go?”

“I’m surprised he didn’t tell you.”

“You know he never told me his deepest secrets, and perhaps it was for your own safety.”

I wanted to laugh. “He sent to me the USA, to his friend Jett to take care of me.”

Sonora moved in front of me, blocking my view from everyone else. I was forced to look up into her soft, brown eyes. She knew who Jett was, probably met him a few times and knew how crazed he could be. He was the Gideon of the US, and just as ruthless, probably even more so. He and his wife Ebony were ruthless, and just as crazy each other.

Without fear.

They’d both taught me well, not at all what my father had wanted when he sent me there to rot in a hole.

“What happened to you?” she asked me, breaking me from my memories.

“You really don’t want to know. We need to get the shrieking banshee away from his body. Everyone is gone now so there’s no need for the show.”

Sonora nodded, and headed inside as I made my way down to the car, where our driver Henley stood. I was surprised my twin brother Hendrix hadn’t graced us with his presence, although it’s not really surprising since he’d been banished from the family before I was. Gideon couldn’t control him anymore, and he was getting crazier and crazier as the days went on. Hendrix wanted his seat at the table, and my father didn’t want him there. So…he was gone by the next morning and I never heard from or saw my brother since.

Naomi got in the car, closing the door behind her, and removed her glasses to dry her crocodile tears. We peeled out of Cedar Grove Cemetery and toward our obnoxiously named home, Raven’s Nest Chateau.

“Will you at least try to look sad?” she asked me, bitterness in her voice. “Your father just died.”

“Why should I?”

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