Page 4 of Rich Forever: Zo & Remy

“That’s not just true for you, but for me as well. I did my research on you. Your story touched me, and now that you’ve lost your boss, I really want to help you start your life over. I want to give you the ability to make the right choices, k?” She asked as she walked over to the bag that she had sat down when she first came in and handed it to me.

Then she finally looked me in the eye and stole my breath away. Her once flawless face was now bruised, black and blue.

“Oh my gosh,” I whispered. I wanted to reach out and hug her, but she held her hand up like she didn’t want sympathy. Remy was the rarest kind of person. She was in my room and concerned about me, but just hours before had been beaten, bound, and her fiancé had been killed. But she still came just as she had promised.

“I’m fine, here take it.” She said as I took the bag and peeked inside. The bag had about ten neat stacks of bills labeled ten thousand dollars.

“Remy, I can’t-”

“Girl, you can. Be the best you that you can be, okay? I hope your second life is good to you.” She said, this time allowing meto pull her into me, as I rocked her from side to side. We parted, and I stared at her.

“Thank you so much,” I said as tears fell from my eyes. She winked, put on her shades, and walked out the door just as quickly as she had come. I walked over to the chair in the corner of the room and broke down in disbelief, confused but thankful we crossed paths. Remy felt like my guardian angel. Then, out of nowhere, something hit me like a ton of bricks. Flashes of the night before. Remy had been wearing makeup when I walked into the kitchen last night. Slowly, the pieces came together one after another. The bruises, the promise to go to bed with him. Then those words from weeks ago replayed themselves over and over again in my head.

“Words are one thing, love. But if Karlos ever puts his hands on me, he’ll be buried so fast they won’t even need to embalm him.”

Remy Cross

7years prior

Pulling up to my father’s estate, I tucked my phone into my purse and blew out a deep breath. I hadn’t set foot back in Baton Rouge for two years, and as soon as I entered the city limits, I got depressed. There was so much negativity tied to this city for me; I didn’t want to be here any longer than I had to be.

The fleet of black trucks came to a halt in front of my father’s estate, and my driver put the truck in park before he came around to the back seat to let me out.

I chuckled as I ascended the large steps. My father had the most obnoxious, over-the-top house; it almost resembled the White House. He had these long columns on the outside, a water fountain in the front, exotic cars littered along the front yard, just way too much.

“Good afternoon, Miss Cross.” The butler nodded and extended a tray of drinks in my direction. I chuckled. Typical Bronx Cross, only he could find an English butler in the middle of Louisiana.

“Hello,” I replied, declining the drink.

He nodded, opened the door, and led me inside my parents’ home. It had changed since my last visit. There were many upgrades and additions to the structure, but that didn’t surprise me.

I walked through the house to my father’s study. I knew that when he was home, he’d spend most of his time there. Knocking on the door, I heard him on the other side.

“Come in,” he said with his deep voice.

I pushed the heavy door open; the sound of the creaking greeted him before I could.

"Baby girl!" He smiled and stood up, arms wide. I damn near ran into his embrace. I missed him. It's been months since he last came through my city, so I haven't gotten one of these "papa bear" hugs in a while.

“Hi, Daddy. I missed you.” I said into his chest, as he all but smothered me.

“I missed you too. How’s it been?” He asked when he took a seat, and I did the same. Although we talked every other day, it literally felt like we talked about everything and anything as we passed the time, waiting for my sister and my mother to make it back. After more than a few minutes of conversation, I could hear my loudmouth baby sister coming down the hallway. Although FaceTime calls were coming almost every hour on the hour since I had relocated, we hadn’t hung out in a couple of months either. So, I was excited to see her and my mother too.

“Twin!” she screamed, dropping her bags and running to me. I hugged her. We were two years apart, but we really did look alike. Growing up, neither of us could call the other ugly because we had too many of the same features. I embraced her and then my mother, Shelby. The mold for us. My mother was over fifty and looked like she could be our big sister. Her black definitely didn’t crack. She was the picture of beauty.

We chatted for a second and then took seats throughout the office as we waited for the reason for his urgent call. What had been so important that he had to talk about it in person? Once our chatter ceased, we turned to him with waiting eyes. As soon as we did that, his demeanor changed into something more serious.

“I called a family meeting because there are going to be major changes to us as a unit, and to the organization. I got a summons from the elites last week to go to Italy. While I was there, they discussed merging our family business with another, to help us expand and get back on track.” I didn’t respond, just waited to see where he was taking the conversation. Up until this point, I couldn’t really see why his affairs involved me.

He cleared his throat and looked around at us all. He closed his eyes like he was about to drop a bomb, and once he spoke, that’s exactly what he did.

“The only way they’re considering merging our families is through marriage. They want you and Taylor to marry the two youngest Jennings Mafia bosses on the East Coast, and they are hoping it could bring the organization back to where it’s supposed to be.”

I gave him a look that he knew all too well. I had been there and done that with a klepto psychopath who stole from everybody he came across. I wasn’t willing to go through that again. Not for my father, not for the organization, not for anyone.

“Remy, I know it’s a sensitive subject for you, since you previously lost a fiancé. But I can assure you, Jaxon is a great guy; he has the respect of the elites, and that says a lot,” he said, pleading his case. I looked over at Taylor. She didn’t seem fazed and didn’t care either way. Taylor was always nonchalant like that. If she was hurt, she didn’t say it. If she were sad, shewouldn’t say it. She was never as expressive as I am. She kept a lot to herself.

"Daddy, it’s not about losing Karlos. What matters is choosing who I spend my life with. I almost let you make that choice once, but now I know I don’t want that." I met his eyes, my voice steady. He nodded, as if he understood, though his glance shifted. I knew he was still thinking about the organization.