Chapter Seven – Luca
My father thought it was a good idea to invite some of the Black Hand to my party. Really, he just wanted me to get on the good side of the members that were closest to my age, while he schmoozed it up with the others. I couldn’t tell him no, so I had to invite them.
I had a bit of help getting everything set up. I chose a nice, secluded area out of Cypress. It was obviously a clearing where people camped or something, but no one was here currently. We set up a big bonfire, along with a few tables that would hold the drinks and some snacks. Nothing too fancy. This was just a little party, after all. Nothing like that stupid ball my father brought me to before.
Although, I couldn’t complain too much about that. It’s where I met the girl that I couldn’t stop thinking about: Giselle Santos, Miguel Santos’s chosen heir. His only child, too. He didn’t have a wife or any sons, not that I knew of, so she was it.
And she was nothing at all like I expected. Different from the others. I couldn’t shake the image of her in that white dress out of my head. Wearing white to a Black Hand event—not something I thought I’d see. A way to stand out, for sure.
She was supposed to come tonight, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t excited to see her again. Tonight would be more laid back, all about us heirs getting to know each other. And the younger Black Hand members, if they chose to come.
I didn’t want to invite the younger heirs, the ones who were under eighteen, but I figured it would seem like I was favoring a few over the others, and needless to say that would be bad. Didn’t want to paint any extra targets on my and my father’s back. Or my mother’s, even though she was back at home, too ill to come with us during this… uh, competition. Not sure if that was the best word for it, but that’s kind of what it was.
We weren’t supposed to kill each other. That was rule number one. No killing, no secret assassinations; from what my father had said, Atticus Jameson made sure that had been hammered into his head during every meeting. The Black Hand played dirty, but not with each other. It was kind of a weird situation we were all in; in a way, we were each a part of the Black Hand right now—and we would remain that way until the new member was officially chosen.
Then all bets were off. The gloves, so to speak, would come off, and surely there would be some repercussions that involved a death or two. Anyone stupid enough to risk having the entire Black Hand’s wrath turned upon them deserved whatever they got. I hoped my father wouldn’t be dumb enough to try something if he lost the position and wasn’t named the new member.
The location was a ways off the road. You had to drive a while through the trees; I’d sent one of our men to stand at the fork on the road to direct anyone who was looking for the party spot. You had to park on the dirt amongst the trees, but there was plenty enough room. It reminded me of those places in the horror movies with the teens who went camping somewhere with a bloody, sordid history.
Yeah. With those movies, you always knew what was going to happen, how things would end, but that didn’t make the movies any less fun.
No mass-murdering psycho killers tonight, though. Beyond what we already were, I mean.
People started to show up. None were who I was waiting for, though. A few of the younger would-be heirs; they went straight for the alcohol, cracking open the lids like they were born doing it. Which, okay, maybe they were. They were the sons of hardened criminals, so underaged drinking was probably expected.
The sky turned dark, and for a few moments, I wondered if no one else was going to show up. All those worries, however, faded when more cars showed up. Some of the other would-be heirs came—even the enigmatic Cade Cunningham.
When I saw him walk up to the clearing, I went to grab a beer for him. Grinning, I wandered over to him. He stood near the bonfire, the fire’s flickering flames a bright orange. Hands in his pockets, he didn’t even look at me as I walked over.
“Hey, man. Didn’t think you’d come,” I said, offering him the beer.
Those intense eyes of his flicked to me, and then fell to the offered drink. He was slow to take it, and he said nothing as he cracked it open and took a sip. His attention was back on the fire within moments, as if I wasn’t even there.
“Right,” I said, giving him a friendly slap on the back, “good talk.” He shot me a glare, but I was already walking away.
Someone else had pulled up, and just like when everyone else arrived, my heart started to pound a little harder in anticipation. Everyone had similar vehicles, the windows tinted so you couldn’t see inside. At any moment, Giselle would show up. I just hoped she’d be without that shadow of hers so we could have a little talk in private.
That guy, I forgot his name. What was it? Alex? Tom? I really didn’t know, nor did I really care. All I knew was, he watched Giselle like a fucking hawk, hardly ever taking his eyes off her. Just a guess, but I assumed her father didn’t want her doing anything by herself. She was the only female heir here, which definitely put a bigger target on her back than others.
Still. She didn’t need that guy. I’d be here. I could protect her from stuff, should anything happen. Not that I thought something would—this was my party, after all. If someone tried something at my party, they’d have to answer to me, and while I might act like I didn’t give a shit, I did. Oh, I gave a shit, and I could flip a switch like a lot of these heirs could.
We were all born to sinners. We were raised by criminals, whether those criminals were street thugs turned businessmen or just straight-up hitmen.
The ones who got out of the car, though, were not who I was waiting for. The Jameson twins, caught up in a conversation that ended the moment they saw me. They both wore similar clothes, and with their hair cut the same and their faces both shaved, I legit couldn't tell them apart.
“Dex, Jett, so glad you two could make it,” I said, turning to point to the tables. “We have some drinks, and some food—”
One of them rubbed his belly in a circular motion and said, “You know, I am feeling quite peckish right now.” He couldn’t say it with a straight face, his expression soon morphing into one that wore a smirk.
Ah, that one had to be Jett, then.
As Jett went off to take a look at the food, Dex remained by me. “It’s good what you’re doing,” he told me. “Sometimes it’s nice to get away from the others and just…” He smiled, glancing over his shoulder, as if he was waiting for someone. “Have a little fun.”
His girl, probably. The one they were dating, the infamous Shay Arrowwood. I’d heard a lot about her; the rumors were wild. Everyone had thought she was dead for years, and then she’d come strolling back into Cypress like she owned the place. I could definitely respect a girl like that.
“You sure you don’t want anything?” I asked. Maybe he was waiting for Shay to come before letting loose. Or maybe Dex never let loose. That was definitely a possibility.
“I’m good for now. I’ll leave the drinking to Jett. He does it well enough on his own.”