“Sir, we have a problem.” Roman’s tone is curt and to the point, just like it has been since Reuben’s outburst on Winter in the office. Roman in particular felt betrayed learning that the Stones are in debt of upwards of 5 million dollars to the Malone family. Amidst reeling from the deceit from Reuben, he had to face the recklessness of Winter.
What Reuben called a personal pet project was failing and in that failure and fury, his protege took the blame. Reuben forced Roman’s hand and left him to deal with Sparrow.
She took the failure hard and personally. But the beating she received by Roman was meaningless as soon as she saw Winter get stricken by her father. If it weren’t for Reggie holding Sparrow back, she would have taken her place.
Roman was conflicted as he watched the girl get beaten. Winter…Snow…just as her namesake, her eyes remained cold as ice, her expression never showing a fraction of pain. She appeared disassociated, almost uncaring. It was nothing any of them had ever seen and despite her pain and blood, she snapped to protect Sparrow without a second thought.
Winter was replaced by the assassin Snow. She was prepared to kill them all had anyone raised a hand to Sparrow. Roman was proud. He knew that Sparrow hadn’t failed.
In fact she succeeded, perhaps too well, in a way that threatened his boss. Because Snow will never be controlled and her only loyalty is to Sparrow.
“I pay you to take care of problems, Roman, not bring them to me.” The stress and weight sits in Reuben’s words, his patience for everyone has reached its peak. The man is irritated and trigger happy. Just the other day he killed his old best friend and right hand man, Alan, for “challenging his authority,” throwing all of the responsibility on Roman.
The pressure is mounting. The Malone’s are breathing down his neck.
He thought offering the headache he never wanted would finally make the girl useful and get those assholes off his back. But it’s backfiring, all it’s done is make Winter more powerful. His wife is being a brat and taking the child’s side, his son is useless and a weak embarrassment…his empire is crumbling around him. And all he can do is watch.
“Yes, well, it concerns a certain financial situation, that I was just privy too.” Roman’s jab isn’t one that goes unnoticed by Reuben. If he were calmer, he’d likely apologize to the boy that he raised as his own. But instead, the slight only has him pointing the barrel of his revolver at his skull. Roman doesn’t waver. He never does, not even as a child.
Reuben was sure he was partially robotic when he found the child but it’s just what makes Roman great at his job. Even during what’s supposed to be time off for Roman during the peace banquet he’s riddled with work that seems endless.
Roman holds out the vibrating device, the capitalized “M” like a big warning light that Reuben can’t ignore. Snatching the device, Reuben takes the call in the back, earning a deep sigh from Delilah.
“Don’t get married Roman, it’s all just a big fucking joke. They’ll love you for a moment, then lock you away, only bringing you into the light for convenience.” Roman’s inward concern of the woman he’s regarded as mother isn’t shown as he watches her finish her 3rd glass of wine. They’ve only been flying for 30 minutes and she’s halfway through the bottle.
The recent actions and revelations concerning her family and the man she married jostled her world. Delilsh saw the man that he promised he would never be, and it only made her wonder…does he act the same when he isn’t around her? Does the man she married even exist or is he just a perfectly crafted facade to keep her docile?
She hates going to these stupid dangerous banquets, dining with twisted men and gold-digging women. This is not the life she dreamed, the promise of retirement her husband made is fleets further away with every banquet.
Reggie watches in silence, capped resentment bubbling in the pit of his belly. He isn’t as dumb as people believe, he understands all of the workings of the mafia and most importantly, how to make money. There’s only one thing that everyone doesn’t notice…his burning hate for his father. The animosity he feels towards that man has driven him halfway from cutting ties with his family.
His siblings and mother are the only reason he stays around. However, unbeknownst to everyone, he has a family of his own. His father is a monster hidden beneath perfectly tailored suits. The beating Winter received is one he’s particularly familiar with.
One tinge of disappointment and it was a beating, until Reggie began staying away. The beatings couldn’t occur if he was never around. In that distance he met a woman that gave him solace. She brought him peace and light in the darkness surrounding his life.
He fell in love, began growing his own legal businesses, had a child, and has been waiting for the right time to say “fuck you” to his father and leave his family. Smiling down at the picture of his son, Reggie makes a silent vow, to get away from all this shit and be a better father than his own ever was to him. He just has to get through this stupid banquet first.
He tucks his phone away, offering a drink to his younger sister. She’s usually too caught up in her own world to deal with mafia affairs. However, this time she’s decided to tag along with the family to the peace banquet.
Emily graciously accepts the drink, too focused on her jealousy to notice her family fraying around her. The love of her life is no longer paying her an ounce of attention. She knows that it’s partially due to her indecision, but how can she be in love with a killer? She hates what her family does, what her father forced her brother and now her sister to be. But when it comes to her Noé she can only see the good.
The brightness, the untainted woman who opened her eyes to immense pleasure and attention. Noé treated her like a princess, but now…this bitch is coming in to steal her.
She hated Winter when she first saw the attention Noé would give her. The connection they shared and compatibility drove her fucking insane. She couldn’t stand it any longer and began doing what she hated…participating in her father’s business.
If it means getting her Noé back, then she is willing to do whatever it takes. She was Noé’s princess, even if they can’t be together, Emily is selfish and wants to keep Noé for herself.
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
Her foot taps anxiously on the floor of the private jet, her gaze staring into the clouds, wondering what to expect from this banquet. More importantly, she has to devise a plan to get Noé’s attention. If Emily can get her alone during the banquet, she knows that she’ll have her Noé back again.
After this banquet, everything will be back to normal.
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“So you pussed out huh?” Harley Rose snickers at her stiff cousin, trying to ease the tension in his shoulders by the only thing that makes him smile these days. Winter ‘Snow’ Dixon. The girl has come and left her cousin infatuated. She hasn’t seen him like this since his last girlfriend cheated on Milo with his cousin, her brother, Oliver.
“I did not puss out.”
“You did all of that and didn’t even ask her out. What do you call that?” Milo sighs, finally looking at his cousin, his low eyes empty and hollow. Just like her uncle trained him.
“If I told her the truth, that I did all of that to ask her out, she would’ve said no immediately. I guess grandfather’s advice won’t work on Winter.”
“Well of course not, Winter isn’t someone who needs you, or your money. She’s perfectly capable of doing things on her own. If you want to impress her, you have to show her something she can’t get herself.” Harley hopes Winter will come around and give her cousin a chance. Inject just a little bit of happiness into Milo’s life again.
The smiles he flashes for his mother and siblings is artificial, Harley Rose knows that better than anyone else. She spends most of her time with her cousin, he never stops working, which means she doesn’t either. It’s nearing 4 a.m and there’s no sign of him stopping work any time soon.
They sit in a comfortable silence again, lost in their own thoughts. As they get closer to the estate, Harley notices the tension returning to Milo. The easygoing nature he carries around Winter disappears as if it never existed.
“What did uncle say?” Harley knows that no amount of talking about Winter will erase what’s waiting for them behind the gate of the Malone estate.
“He found out that I never showed up for a date with Tiffany St. Clair and that I’ve brought Reuben Stone’s daughter to stay at the Blue Diamond.”
“How did people find out that she’s a Stone already?”
“I don’t know, but it’s a fucking problem. One that needs to be taken care of before this stupid banquet.”
“Understood.” The message is received and Harley Rose gets to work having every member of hotel staff interrogated. She understands what Milo wants more than anyone else, and for that he’s grateful. He doesn’t like to waste time explaining what needs to be done, he just likes having shit taken care of.
He’ll eradicate any threat to Winter, no matter how small or menial. Even if that threat is his father himself. The car stops in front of the door of his family estate and Milo gets out, shoulders tense, bracing himself for the brawl that’s about to ensue.
Despite it being early in the morning, he can hear the voices of his mother and grandmother and sister, in the kitchen cooking breakfast for the members. A tradition for the women every day. Milo only manages to get the door closed before his father, Arthur is bounding over, fist raised.
Even being Milo’s right-hand, he nudges his cousin behind him as fists begin flying between father and son. Milo’s attentiveness is unmatched as he manages to go toe-to-toe with his father and hold off his cousin who wants to interfere.
Pleas from Milo’s eldest sister, Isabella, his mother, Lucia and grandmother, Arabella, fill the room as the 2 hot-heads continue to fight. A fierce hit from the older man as blood seeping into Milo’s mouth and a bitter laugh escaping his lips.
Milo’s eyes hold the promise of death, a look the entire family knows all too well. The glare that has Lucia rushing in front of her husband, halting Milo’s finger from firing the gun raised, cocked and ready to fire.
Blood and saliva coat the once pristine floors as workers rush forward to clean the mess, noticing the halt in the action.
“Son, please, put the gun away.” Lucia’s pleas are the only reason Milo doesn’t shoot his father where he stands. His grandmother comes over, wiping her grandson’s face with her apron. Comfort and care all she can provide, a comfort that she knows does nothing to heal the emotional wounds his father constantly inflicts.
Her son is not a man she recognizes anymore, years of darkness that propelled them to the top proving to be infectious. As a mother and wife to a mafia king she did her best to protect her children and offered them another avenue away from her husband’s work.
However, Arthur always showed interest in the mafia, in the underworld of money, sex, power, and killing.
“You will not be seeing that fucking girl again.”
“That’s not your fucking decision old man.”
“The hell it’s not boy, do you understand the fucking shit people are saying already? They think you’ve knocked up some whore.”
“I don’t give a shit what people say, none of them have the fucking balls to say it to myself. And I know they won’t have the balls to say it to her either.” Milo is ready to burn his father to the ground if he thinks he’s going to be able to keep him away from Milo.
“You’ll be going to the damn banquet with Tiffany St. Clair and that’s final. I’ve arranged a deal with her father and you won’t be breaking it.”
“I’ll do what I damn well please. Tiffany St. Clair is nothing but a pompous spoiled little bitch.”
“And that little bitch has a lot of fucking connections with the FBI, who have been on our assess thanks to your little killing spree.” Milo’s careless shrug is followed by his steps to the bar. The only part of himself that he’ll admit is anything like his father.
“I don’t tolerate thieves.”
“And I don’t tolerate a fucking embarrassment as a son. The decision is made.” Milo sucks the blood from his split lip, spitting at his father’s feet, even Arthur knows better than to push the boy too far. If it wasn’t for his wife, he’s sure Milo would have shot him where he stood.
“That’s your decision and not mine. As far as I’m concerned Winter is the only woman I’ll attend with. Or you can just expect me not to be in attendance and we both know that you can’t make any fucking deal without me.” Milo Malone single handedly brought his family’s name back from the brink of shame.
The empire was on the verge of crumbling after news of his father’s affairs, illegitimate children, and secret dealings with their allies’ enemies spread. Milo took care of everything, covered his father’s ass and declared his future leadership role, pending his marriage.
Work flows and continues because of Milo, something that Arthur Malone has always resented his son for. The older man groomed him to be his heir, not his leader. He refuses to admit that his son is better than him in any way. This was his mafia, he brought it to the top, what he decides to do should be nobody’s concern.
Mafia politics. It’s all a pain in his ass.
Milo’s bitter laugh fills the room at Arthurs silence. He’d kill the man where he stands if they were alone. Once again, his mother has saved her husband’s life but he won’t tolerate any disrespect towards Winter.
All she’s ever asked for is respect, and he’ll make sure she receives it from everyone.
“Winter will be my date and you will treat her with respect when you regard her. Or else you won’t be alive to go to this stupid fucking banquet. Do you understand, Arthur?” Milo’s calm tone is a complete contrast to him slamming the glass down onto the bartop, shattering the glass that penetrates his skin.
“Milo!” His mother’s exasperation falls on deaf ears as he stalks towards his father, who’s wisely shut the fuck up. Ignoring his mother, Milo stands in front of his father, even being shorter, it doesn’t change his level of intimidation.
Arthur knows that Milo would never hesitate to kill him. He raised him that way. To be a killer with no emotions, no remorse, no mercy. And at times like this, he regrets it all.
“I will cut your fucking tongue out myself, Arthur. Do not test me.” Milo flexes his bleeding hand, his signature careless smirk dancing on his lips. He pats his fathers cheek with his bloody hand, the condescending action earning nothing more than a scowl.
“Now excuse me, I have some jackasses to interrogate before breakfast. Harley.” Milo and his cousin leave the suffocating air, tinged with threats and family division.