PROLOGUE
LOGAN
There’s something weneed to discuss.
After receiving Dad’s text, I’m on edge as I head upstairs to his bedroom.
It’s not just the message, but my brother mentioning Dad was visiting with his attorney and a few trusted advisors. Given the recent, rapid deterioration of his health, it’s not difficult to imagine what they’re here to discuss, but it’s not something I’m eager to face, not when I refuse to believe I can lose my father.
I approach the bedroom door, knots twisting in my chest, and I’m about to knock when Baxter, our butler, opens the door for me, looking somber.
“Is everything okay?” I spit out.
“I’m fine,” Dad assures me from the bed as I nearly push Baxter out of my way.
Dad lies in the same spot as usual, on the left side of the bed, since Mom used to sleep on the right. Of the three men present, I only recognize Finter, our attorney, who expertly solves all the legal scrapes a mob family gets into. This time, though, I know he isn’t here to get us out of legal troubles. Besides, my brother Wrath hasn’t done anything outrageous in a while, on good behavior because he knows what’s ahead of us.
I do too, as much as I try to deny it. It’s evidenced in how pale Dad looks—much paler than yesterday; in his weary eyes that used to be so full of life; even in the way his hands are planted against the bed, one holding some papers in a loose grip, as if he doesn’t have the strength to hold them. These fucked-upreminders of a reality I’m not ready to accept make me want to beat the shit out of this so-called doctor who’s supposed to take care of all his needs. Not like he hasn’t tried his hardest, through rounds of radiation and chemo. Still, someone has to take the blame, so it might as well be him.
I try to settle my nerves. As the eldest of the Wilde sons, it’s always been my duty to set an example for my brothers, so I must be the strong one. And today it feels important to show him how strong I am. Because he made me strong.
“Dad?”
“Get over here, my little man,” he says, and even saying that much is a strain.
I follow his directive, obedient son that I am, approaching the bed, looking to the papers in his tired grasp. Since I was a kid, I’ve seen him with plenty of documents like this. Everything typed out in tiny print, like buying a damn car, which I always found amusing—since most of the agreements our family makes aren’t the sort you can put into writing—but now it makes me suspect this is something much worse. His will.
“How are you feeling?” I ask.
“I’ve been going over everything I need to settle my affairs before the worst of this,” he says, not answering my question.
“Dad, no…”
“It’s no use trying to outrun this.”
Be fucking strong. Prove to him he’s leaving this family in capable hands.
Despite my attempt to bully myself, I can’t fight the tears that push to my eyes, the way my chin quivers at the thought of losing him. “I refuse to accept that. You’re gonna keep fighting this. And you’re gonna win. You’re too strong.”
He’s quiet. It’s hard to tell if he’s thinking or mustering the energy to speak before he says, “Even for a man as strong as me, this…I can’t escape. No one can. Lord knows I’ve tempted deathenough that it’s my time. I’ve accepted it, and you need to do the same.”
“I won’t.” I say it like I can simply delude myself enough to make it not so, but I’m aware I’m not the first to have failed in this experiment. Still, a primal instinct won’t allow me to go there.
Dad smirks. “That’s my blood, for sure, streaming through your veins, making you as hardheaded as your old man. You’ll need it to take care of your brothers.”
“If you’re gonna keep talking like this, I’m going back to the library. I was in the middle of a perfectly good book.”
I start like I’m about to head off, and he says, “No, please…”
I freeze in place. I didn’t have any intention of leaving him, was just trying to get him to shut up.
“If you can’t accept it, please humor your old man.” His hand trembles as he passes the papers to me.
“A will?”
“This is better than any will. It’s security for you and your brothers for the rest of your lives, by the Lordes.”
That must be why these two other guys are here—to finalize an agreement with our greatest allies, which is good for us, but I can’t help but despise them because they’re a reminder of what Dad’s come to accept, which I can’t.
