Page 30 of Vicious Heir

“That’s just not true and you know it.” She hugs me tightly. “Come on. I’ll be with you the whole time.”

I take a deep breath. Maybe she’s right. My family has been through a lot. A year after Grandfather died, a bunch of documents showing just how much money the hedge fund had lost were leaked to the press. We lost all our friends and social connections; we were nearly ruined when the banks turned their backs on us too. Then Mom and Dad had their little accident.

Grandmother held us together. Just barely, with spit, tape, and glue, but here we are.

Patched and moving forward.

Now it’s my turn to do my duty.

So why does it feel so terrible?

“Kennedy? You’re fired.”

She smiles sadly. “Good. I was waiting for you to say that.”

“Are you still my friend?”

“Of course I am. I always will be, no matter what.” She hugs tighter. “But please don’t actually fire me. This is the best job I’ve ever had.”

“As a wedding present, I’ll let you stick around.”

I want to believe her. I really, really do.

But I learned the hard way that people aren’t always what they seem.

Adriano

The church is crowded. Bianca storms around the place like a field marshal giving orders. It’s organized chaos as the guests file in and get comfortable. Expensive cars are parked out front, and everyone is wearing their best clothes. Diamonds glitter on throats. Custom suits drape over old, flabby bodies.

It’s an odd mix of people.

There are the society folk here because of the Willing-Morris family. Rich and powerful men from families with lines that extend all the way across the Atlantic. There are politicians, titans of industry, financial wizards, and dozens of socialites.

These bastards would never have been in the same room with me before my engagement to Lucy.

Then there are my people. Old-school mobsters in ostentatious jackets with big gold necklaces and fancy gold rings. There are more than a few packing heat and not being subtle about it. The younger Marino men are more understated, and it’s almost hard to tell them apart from their prep school counterparts. Except my people are hungry. They’re vicious and hard. They have scars, and they carry themselves like killers. They’re sharks, while the rich folks are fat lambs.

I linger out front. People stop to greet me. I don’t know half their names. Luca hangs around and tries to help, but he’s as clueless as I am. At one point, though, Carmela shows up with her arranged husband, Lev Federov. He’s a big, hulking Russian bastard, and he’s my family’s link to the Zeitsev Bratva. Thanks to Carmie and him really falling in love, we have access to a lucrative source of drugs coming through a Canadian smuggling channel.

I put a gun to Lev’s head one time, but we’re good now.

“You nervous?” Carmie asks, grinning at me. She gives her brother, Luca, a quick hug.

“Not at all.” I shake Lev’s hand and nod at him. “You good?”

“All good,” he says. “Happy that it’s you on the other side. How’s it feel to be the one in the arrangement?”

“Feels great. Glad you came out for the wedding.”

“And miss the social event of the season?” Carmie makes a face like I must be insane.

“I agree with my wife.” Lev grins widely. “Nothing brings me more joy than to watch you squirm.”

“How pleasant.”

Carmie gives me another quick hug and wishes me luck before leading her brooding, dangerous husband into the church.

I keep ignoring looks from Bianca. She wants me inside and in my place, but I’m not ready yet. I take deep breaths as I stand in the Philadelphia afternoon, the sun shining through the buildings, the old Catholic church behind me. It’s a beautiful day. Not at all how I pictured my wedding.