Page 9

Chapter 9

Bald Headed Twats

Jade

Shopping for an outfit for your dead child is not what I wanted to do today. I’ve put it off for the past few days, and with the wake only hours away, I couldn’t avoid it any longer. The guys went to pick out her little white casket, considering I have to give her a final bath before getting her dressed. I just mentally couldn’t do it all. They keep saying I’m so strong but I’m not. I’m broken and weak, with nothing left to give.

Putting on my black lace dress for the second time this year is depressing. How many more people am I going to lose before I fully lose myself? I feel alone at this moment as I put on my black pumps and walk out of my room to the main bathroom. I stop before turning the knob and take a deep breath. I hate Flynn for making me fucking do this, yet again, but this hits me so much harder than it did with Harper. Haven grew in my belly for months just for her to be ripped away from me in a blink of an eye.

Turning the knob, I open the door and step in. The funeral parlor delivered Haven to us a few hours ago, and this is the first time I’m seeing her. This is not how I want to remember my baby; our little girl. Taking a step closer to where she lays on a pink blanket on top of the vanity. I swallow thickly and can’t seem to take a breath as I move even closer to her. Tears fall down my face as I near the vanity, gripping onto it like it’s my lifeline. I can’t do this. I can’t. “ But you can, Kitten. It’s okay, baby. She will be safe with me. Bathe her and say your goodbyes. I promise she will be okay,” he whispers, encouraging me to do what needs to be done.

“I don’t want to say goodbye, Rio. Not to you, not to her. It hurts. It hurts so fucking bad,” I say into the empty space.

I wrap my baby girl in her pink blanket and lift her into my arms, holding her to my chest. “I’m so sorry, Haven. Mommy failed and couldn’t protect you. I’m so fucking sorry, but I’m going to get you clean and send you with your Daddy. I love you, Babygirl. You will forever be in my heart and a part of me,” I whisper, kissing her cold forehead.

Placing her down, I do what I’ve done once before with Harper, going through the motions while I sob. Once done, I get her dressed in an all white dress that has lace and red diamonds along the neckline and bottom of the dress. The tears never stop, not even after I carry her through the house and down the stairs to the guys waiting for me in the living room. We all walk outside together to the limo and I place my baby in her white casket, covering her tiny body with her pink blanket. “I love you,” I whisper, taking a step back as all three men shut the top of it and stand next to me. Spade and Jamie, grab my hand, squeezing it.

“You ready, Sis?” Ryder asks, and I nod as we slide into the limo and head to the cemetery to lay our baby girl to rest right beside her Dad.

Six months later…

We are sitting around Jamie’s oval desk at his office waiting for the Roselli estate lawyer to arrive after summoning us here to listen to the reading of Dario’s will. It’s taken us months to get where we are today. Between fighting with his siblings, who have now created a war between families, this is just the icing on the cake.

Getting out of the house is nice considering I’ve been elbow deep in kids and pumping. We’ve decided that we need more security and a nanny to help because we all can’t be home to take care of the kids all the time, so some hired help would be nice. We’ve had a few interviews and none of them seem to be what we are looking for and the kids haven’t taken a liking to any of them, which is a huge deal to us.

We want Jaxon and Hazel happy and well taken care of when we aren’t around, but most of all, safe. Problem is we trust no one, and to make matters worse, Jamie wants to just kill everyone as of late. I caught him talking to the voices, which I thought stopped, but I think with all the loss lately, and the fact that he continues to blame himself is really taking a toll on his mind. Hopefully, the secret I’ve been keeping will cheer him up, and maybe he will finally let go of the things that haunt him, and finally enjoy life. Things have been quiet lately in the criminal world, but I have a feeling things are about to spin out of control because when it’s too quiet, then the snakes are slithering and the rats are sniffing around.

A short, chubby, bald man in a suit enters the room. He’s sweating as he stands at the head of the table, using his handkerchief to wipe his brow. He must be nervous being surrounded by dangerous people. He slides Jamie an envelope then exits the office. What the fuck? That’s weird. I look at Jamie, and he laughs.

“He wanted to do this via Zoom and I refused. I love making him sweat. He is absolutely terrified of us, so forcing him to drop this off in person made my day,” he states, opening the envelope and taking the contents out.

“Well, well, well. Dario has left us everything. All the cars. 1.5 million dollars. The house he built up north. The cabin in Vermont. A beach house in the Keys, all the businesses and diamonds. The three of us own everything except three places. The mill is solely Jade’s, and Club Diamond. The warehouse he owns is left to his daughters to do with as they please once they graduate from college, but it must be a business that creates legal revenue. One mil has been left to each child, including Jaxon,” Jamie reads, and I’m in shock.

“God damn. What about family businesses since The Aces are pushing daisies?” Spade asks, and we laugh.

“It’s all ours, but Dario’s wish is to stop the trafficking through the businesses and make them legitimate. He doesn’t care about anything else that is illegal,” Jamie answers.

“When was this signed? Like, when did he have the time to create a whole will without any of us knowing?” I ask, and they both laugh.

“Dario was always the most prepared and organized one out of the three of us. I knew he had a will. I just didn’t know it was this detailed and itemized,” Spade says as Jamie nods.

“It was signed in March 2025,” he states, and we both stare at him.

“Does it give you a specific date?” I ask, and his eyes furrow.

“March 24, 2025,” he whispers, and I stand.

“Where is that bald-headed lawyer? This doesn’t make sense how can a will be signed a day after he died. Make it fucking math!” I yell, slamming my fists against the desk.

“She’s right. This doesn’t make sense at all. Someone is either toying with us, or that is not his signature,” Spade states.

“Welp, there’s only one way to find out,” Jamie says, rising from his seat. “Let’s go pay Mr. Charles a visit. Shall we?” He smirks as I grin.

“Call Ry and tell him we will be home late. There’s milk in the freezer if he needs more than what’s in the fridge,” I tell Spade, and he nods, taking out his phone.

Mr. Charles better have the answers we need, or I’m going to slice his shiny bald head for everyone to see.