I wonder what my future’s going to look like. What my recent choices may have turned it into.
Movement at my bedroom door calls my attention. I look up and my jaw tightens.
“Hello, Daddy. Your assistant told me you’d be at the office. You might need to fire her if she can’t keep proper track of your schedule,” I say dryly, getting to my feet to resume packing.
I place the book in my hands and several clothes into the box, uncaring that they aren’t folded. My father doesn’t speak for a couple of moments. My back is turned but I can just imagine himconsidering his next words, thinking carefully before he speaks. A true politician.
“I told her to tell you that so we could have a conversation,” he finally says.
“You mean you told her to lie to me,” I correct, whirling around to face him. “Unsurprising, considering you’ve been doing that for most of my life.”
I see so much of myself in his face. Same blue eyes, same nose, same mouth. The only difference is his short cropped dark hair, while mine is blonde like Mom’s. I used to hate that I didn’t look more like her, especially after she passed.
Right now, my father looks stricken, “Linny, listen to me?—”
“No,” I interrupt, raising a palm to stop him from speaking, “I know we have to talk, Dad. We will have this conversation and you will give me your excuses. You will tell me you did it for me and you had no choice. And we’ll both know that it’s all a lie to soothe your conscience. Because there is always a choice and you just chose the easier path, the quicker path to the money and power you love so much. And I’m the idiot that thought you were better than that, because you raised me to be better!”
He doesn’t say anything for a couple of seconds, then he blinks slowly. The heartbreak on his expression is almost enough to cause me to soften. I love my father more than anyone else in the world. He’s everything to me and I don’t want to cause him pain in any way. But he hurt me when I found out about his close relationship with the Vitales, and now I want to hurt him back.
“I won’t make any excuses, Lindsay,” he says, voice stronger. “And I won’t ask you forgive me, either. Just promise me something. I raised you to believe you were stronger than anyone and anything that could stand in your path. But sweetheart, you are not stronger than the mafia. You will get hurt and I cannot have that, please.”
I scoff in disbelief, zipping up the box and hauling it to the floor. “I’m not listening to this. Oh, and by the way, I’m taking the Maybach. I already got it out of the garage,” I inform him.
He got me the Maybach after I passed the bar. We’ve always been wealthy, and I’ve lived a life most people can only dream of. I just didn’t realize what was funding that lifestyle. The depths to which my father waded to get it all for me.
He doesn’t stop me as I leave the room, dragging my things behind me. One of the maids steps forward to help me get the box to the car but I tell her not to worry. I make it all the way down the spiral staircase to the front door.
I get into my car after placing the box in the back and let out a huge deep breath. When I glance at the mansion that’s been my home for more than nearly two decades, doubt creeps in.
Maybe I’m overreacting. But my parents raised me to have morals. It’s why I became a prosecutor in the first place. I can’t let myself betray my mom’s memory like this. Even if Dad does.
My existential crisis is still going on when my phone pings with a text. I grab it from my bag and nearly scream at the words flashing across the screen.
Val: Hey, Lin. I haven’t heard from you in a bit. Call me.
The text makes me feel even worse. Instead of replying, I fling the phone back into my bag and start the car.
My meeting with the special agent in charge of the local FBI office is in thirty minutes. I can’t afford to be late.
When I arrive at the FBI building, I’m shown to Agent Prichard’s office. The meeting doesn’t take long. He’s not a man of many words. He’s quick to inform me that the FBI is setting up a task force. They plan to dismantle the Bratva, which is the Russian crime syndicate in the city.
They need me to help them put together a RICO case. And then he hands me a file containing everything I would need. My eyes are wide as I take a quick look through it.
I’ve been working on my file on the Vitales for two years. And all I have to show for it is a couple documents and surveillance pictures. What the SAC hands to me about the Bratva is practically a gold mine.
It’s decades of work, detailed information about nearly every member and their crimes. There’s informants, turned insiders, and recordings from wiretapped phones. Several documents tracking financial records. My head practically swims as I take in all the information.
Once I’m done glancing through, I look up at him, my eyes narrowed, “Forgive me for asking, Agent Prichard, but why are you going after the Bratva now? After all this time?”
“Because it’s in the best interest of several individuals. People with power. They want them gone. And we get to clean up the streets in the process. It’s a win-win, Ms. Beaumont.”
I’m surprised at the honest answer, despite the fact that it’s loaded with corruption. It also has my father’s hands all over it. I don’t bring it up with the agent, though. Arguing with him achieves nothing.
“I’ll read through the file and let you know about the next course of action,” I tell him, rising to my feet.
“One of our agents will be your primary correspondent. Edward Fadden, he’s heading the task force. I would have you two meet but he’s currently out of town working on a case. But I’m sure he’ll be in touch with you soon.”
“Alright,” I state. “Nice doing business with you, Agent Prichard.”
