As I stepped out of the car, my chest tightened. The scent of blooming flowers brought back flashes of my childhood—running through these very gardens, carefree and innocent. But those memories felt distant now, almost foreign.
I walked through the front doors, my heels clicking against the polished marble floors. Everything was as it had been years ago, yet it felt different. The warmth I once associated with this place was replaced by an uneasy chill.
My mother’s voice broke through my thoughts. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?”
I turned to her, my jaw clenched. “Stop avoiding the question. Why did you allow Bobbie—a mafia boss and murderer—into this family? And why, of all people, would you arrange for me to marry him?”
Leanne’s expression didn’t falter. She walked slowly to the grand sitting room, gesturing for me to follow. I did, the tension between us building with each step.
When we reached the room, she turned to me, her face calm but her voice firm. “If Bobbie is a murderer,” she said, her eyes piercing mine, “then are you also calling us murderers?”
“You’re calling us murderers?” my mother repeated, her voice calm yet laced with an edge that sent chills down my spine.
I stared at her, confused and uneasy. “Why would you say that?”
I was confused. All of a sudden, I felt like I didn’t know my mother or perhaps my family. Was it because I was away for long?
“What does this have to do with Bobbie or anything else?”
Leanne’s lips curled into a faint, knowing smile. “It’s time you knew the truth, Tracie. Our wealth didn’t just come from clean business dealings. The Whitaker family doesn’t just sit at the top because we’re rich. We’ve built an empire—above and below ground. What you call illegal, we call it ours, too.”
I blinked, her words sinking in like stones dropping into water. “You’re saying… we run something underground? Like… the mafia?”
I shook my head. That would be impossible. I waited for my mother to say it was a joke but—Leanne crossed her arms, nodding slightly. “Our wealth is both a shield and a weapon. Everything you’ve known—the grand estates, the name that commands respect—it’s built on more than just what’s visible to the public. That’s the Whitaker legacy, Tracie. It’s been a family secret for generations.”
Shock coursed through me. “How could I not know about this?” I demanded. “You’ve kept this from me my entire life!”