“We wanted to protect you,” she said simply. “You were our only child, and the world we operate in isn’t forgiving. When you asked to leave and live independently, we allowed it. To keep you safe, we told the world we didn’t have a daughter. It worked. No one came after you.”
Her words hit me like a punch. I’d spent years trying to prove myself, to live outside the shadow of my family, only to learn now that my freedom had been nothing more than an illusion.
“So why tell me now?” I asked, my voice trembling. “You’re making me regret coming back.”
My headache. It felt like I’m going to vomit from too much information.
“Because the time has come for you to return,” she said firmly. “You’re a Whitaker. You need to take your place and manage the family. We have allowed you to be independent, fall in love and get broken, but now, you need to do what we say from now on.”
I took a step back, shaking my head. “No,” I said, my voice rising. “I can’t be part of this. Whatever you’re doing, it’s illegal. I won’t be dragged into it.”
Leanne’s expression didn’t change. “There’s no way out, Tracie. You can’t separate yourself from this family. What will you do if you walk away? Tell the world about our dealings? Expose us?”
Her question hung in the air like a heavy weight. Yes, what am I going to do?
I can’t just tell the police about it—and it’s not like that. I cursed.
I exhaled slowly, my anger deflating into exhaustion. “I won’t do that,” I said quietly. “But… everything feels like a blur right now. I’m overwhelmed. I need time to process all of this.”
Leanne’s sharp gaze softened just slightly. “Take the night to rest,” she said. “But remember—this is your reality now.”
She left the room, the sound of her heels echoing down the hall.
I sat down on the edge of the bed, staring at the ornate decor surrounding me. Everything about this room—the luxurious silk curtains, the grand chandelier, the vintage furniture—felt foreign.
Lying back on the bed, I tried to clear my head, but the weight of everything my mother had just told me pressed down on my chest. The family I thought I knew didn’t exist. We’re a mafia group.
“Oh, god,” I whispered to myself. “What am I going to do now?”
I couldn’t sleep so I grabbed the remote and turned on the television, hoping for a distraction.
But the screen lit up with headlines that made my stomach drop.