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I don't feel bad about scaring her. Not after the mess she put her children through. My cousin, Lily, committed suicide to avoid marrying the monster her parents arranged for her. And her younger sister, Lana, tried to do the same when they wanted her to marry the same man. I had to step in and get her and Naz out of New Orleans, an act that pissed off my aunt and uncle. By that point, they had already framed me for my father’s murder, but John was able to get the two of them out of here.

In my aunt’s eyes, I'm sure I'm the villain. Ruining her plans, killing her husband. Now she has nothing left. A dead daughter, a dead husband, and her last living child won't speak to her.

But these were her doings. Not mine.

"You ruined everything!" she cries, tears dripping from her eyes, smudging the remnants of her mascara.

"I could say the same for you." I scoff. "I was inprisonfor eight months, Carlotta."

She sniffs, bringing a hand to her face to wipe away the tears. "What are you going to do with me?" she asks in a weak voice.

With a sigh, I step back. My fingers reach up to rub away the ache at my temples. I won't kill my aunt, as much as I would like to.

"You'll live," I tell her, my voice void of sympathy. "I'll make sure you have money for basic needs, but nothing more. You'll stay in New Orleans, but you'll keep far away from Lana. Understood?"

She nods, dabbing at her tears.

"And my husband’s funeral? His body?"

"Traitors don't get funerals," John snipes from where he's leaning against the far wall of my office. I raise a hand to silence him.

He's right, traitors don't get funerals.

"I'll make an exception," I tell my sniffling aunt. "If his body is found, he'll have a cheap and poorly attended funeral."

She winces at my phrasing. Could be that I didn't promise her husband’s bodywouldbe found, and if it is, the cheap funeral will not be what she wanted, but she doesn't fight back again. She knows she has nothing left to bargain with. Nothing left to hold on to.

Carlotta stands, wiping one last time at her eyes before she turns to leave, wordlessly. Not a thank you or apology. She won't admit that she was wrong and now her husband's dead because of it.

"One last thing," I say, stopping her. She turns her head to look at me over her shoulder. "Did you know they were going to kill him? My father."

Creases form on her face, and her eyes drop to the floor. She doesn't open her lips to respond, but the truth lingers between us.

"Get the fuck out of my house." I gesture to the door, and Carlotta nods, leaving hastily. She plotted to have her own brother killed. She thought she was going to be queen, with her husband reigning, but this was never her castle, and she never had any right to the throne.

This is my legacy.

My birthright.

And she can fuck right off.

FOURTEEN

Olivia

Good girl.

The two words reverberate through my head as I enter the en suite bathroom. This space is huge and exudes wealth. The marble flooring is cool to the touch, and there's a wide walk-in shower with a rainfall head, enveloped by glass. It looks like something out of a spa or a luxury home style magazine.

I shed my clothing, the layers sticking to my sweaty skin. Suddenly, I realize how gross I feel after not showering for however long. It felt like I was trapped in that warehouse for days, but in reality, it couldn't have been that long.

My stomach growls on cue, reminding me that I'm as hungry as I am dirty. I decide that after this, I'll seek out the kitchen of my new prison and find something to eat.

Turning on the hot water, I step into the shower spray and let it scald me. The burn on my skin reminds me I'm alive, and after what I saw in that alleyway, that's something to be thankful for.

Sam said he would take me back to the bar tomorrow. All I need to do is get through the day. That shouldn't be too hard, right?

There's an insert in the shower wall with soaps and shampoos from a local brand, a fleur-de-lis on the logo. Squirting body wash into my palm, I inhale the jasmine scent. I use the matching shampoo and conditioner, and by the time I exit the shower, I feel like a new woman.