Page 41 of Into the Blue (Shades of Vengeance #1)
He doesn’t speak right away.
My presentation of what the family dealings will look like moving forward is more organized and formal than anything he’s used to. I’m confident in my work as it’s this very same brain who earned her spot right here.
The office space that we’re currently in is not too far from the town center of Clayton Terrace and its luxurious finishing make this feel more like an actual business instead of the back alley transactional crap Junior had reduced us to.
The sophisticated conference room had been decorated before I chose the space.
When I walked in, I knew this was the place for me.
I didn't flinch at the color palette of deep navy and gold accents.
Even the mahogany wood table reminded me of him in a way that was comforting.
I was finally out of his grasp and free to chose and do whatever I wanted. Subconsciously, I had chosen—
Nevermind that.
With Liezel here now and Lidia keeping an eye on us—mostly her—I am comfortable in my position and the far end of the table by the large screen behind me.
I slide my Birkin to the side of me on the table and go through all of my plans.
My agenda was clear and well thought out.
No stuttering and no shrinking to fit whatever meek idea he wanted of me.
I’ve bled too much to be silenced by a man who never once held me when I cried.
Especially not when that blood once came from his son .
I killed him. Not with my own hands, but it was me who signed that death warrant. I gave the command that put a bullet through his skull. I only wished that I had been there to watch the light fade from his eyes.
Like I had to watch when my mother's light left the world, never to return again. Because of Junior.
Because Senior denied me what was mine to begin with. If he had acknowledged me all those years ago, the coke would have never made it's way to The Chrome Flame. I would have been sure of it.
No matter, I did it for this. For the room I now sit in. For the table I was never allowed to touch.
Until now.
My father leans back in his leather chair at the opposite end of the table. He just watches me. Fingers tented beneath his chin, eyes sharp for his age and disinterest with this business anymore. I know he doesn’t see a daughter when he looks at me. He sees a threat.
A successor.
An executioner.
And maybe, for the first time, a true replacement.
“You really thought you’d waltz in here and the family would be waitin’?” My father finally says, his voice like old gravel—worn down and jaded by time and a hardened life. “You trying to prove somethin’.”
“I’m not trying,” I say flatly. “I already did.”
He tilts his head, and the room shifts around that tension.
I didn’t expect him to come quietly. That’s why everything became bloodier than I wanted, initially.
I’ll give him the cheatsheet version because despite how he has treated me, I still want him to be onboard with the direction the Lafayettes will be taking moving forward.
“I took out the damage your son couldn’t see coming,” I continue, keeping my voice low and clear.
“With the choices he was making for this family it would be up in smoke and ashes and crawling with negative legal attention before the year ended. I’ve cleaned up more of his mess in three months than he managed in three years. ”
He doesn’t interrupt. That’s how I know I’m finally getting through to him.
“I brought back money, real money. Consistent and not at the cost of destroying the lives of our clientele. And I did it without asking for permission, and without using your name to shield me.”
His jaw sets, but he still doesn't say anything. I look over to Lee, who gives me an encouraging look and lifts her eyebrow silently saying, “Do it, girl. Finish him.”
My gaze flicks to Senior. “You can pretend that this is still about me trying to earn my place with you. But we both know the truth.”
He narrows his eyes. “And what’s that?”
“That it was always mine.”
Silence.
Then laughter—low and rasped. He pushes up from his chair and walks to the window, slow, deliberate steps like he’s dragging the weight of decades behind him. He glances over his shoulder, the edge of his mouth twitching upward like he both resents and respects the answer.
“Junior had my name,” he says. “He was blood. He was—”
“He was weak,” I cut in. “And weakness rots everything it touches.”
That hits him. The stillness that follows feels like the moment before a fuse meets flame.
He turns to face me fully. “You killed my son.”
“I saved your family. It was a mercy kill and probably a better end than he was heading for anyway with how many different drugs he was playing with on a consistent basis.”
His silence is approval.
It’s not love.
It’s not pride.
It’s a tactical acknowledgement—one leader recognizing another. But when he walks toward me and places a hand on the back of my chair, there’s something else in his eyes too.
Fear.
“You’re one bad woman. I couldn’t predict that this was what was comin’ for this family when you stepped foot in the house before,” he says, and his voice holds something close to reverence. “That’s what makes you better than him. ”
I let out a breath and smooth the front of my suit.
That’s it. The box I didn’t want to admit I’d been waiting to check. Not affection. Not belonging.
Just recognition .
The daughter made in the dark image of her father. And now she’s sharper.
He lifts his hand from the chair and offers it.
I take it and just like that, I’m her.
The head of the Lafayette family.
Not everyone will be clapping for this arrangement. There is still a small faction of Lafayette that remain loyal to Junior’s memory and what he stood for. Old dogs clinging to dead loyalty. They won’t bow. Not easily.
That’s fine.
They’ll break.
Or they’ll be broken.
When I informed him of the hit, and all that I had orchestrated, I allowed him to notify our people of the next move. Head straight for the Dupont Warehouse. Nine cars, each with four of our men. Ours, mine, it's all the same now.
He makes the call and places the phone on speakerphone. Before it connects he says, “Don’t want to lose any more of my men.” What he’s not saying is clear, no more bloodshed to prove a point.
The next in command at the ready is Jalen Lambert. Competent and not a part of Junior’s drugged out lackeys. “Umm, sir. Do you want us to go in?”
He wasn’t addressing me but I’m sir now. “Send them in and wait for our next move,” I say.
“You heard her. Rush ‘em and wait.”
After the phone call, my father leaves for the small office to have a conversation that will change everything. It’s just Liezel and Lidia here in the conference room for a moment.
They both come to my side and hug me. I feel the new weight of Lafayette and it’s an accomplished feeling as much as it is a burden. One massive hurdle cleared and one more that still stands in the distance .
They release me and Liezel begins collecting everything from the room while Lidia goes to guard the door again. Can never be too careful now with more targets soon coming for my back.
I press a hand to the inside of my wrist, where my pulse flutters like crazy. A finger brushes over his name. The slightly raised letters taking me back to that time.
It stirs something in me. Something too close to regret… or maybe grief.
I have to leave it behind though. I must push it aside.
I didn’t just climb the ladder. I stepped into my power and left everything else behind.
Nothing is more important than the money.
Repeating it in my head does nothing to make it feel more true.
I think of Blue. His scent. His hands. His laugh like smoke in his lungs. He still doesn’t know who I am—what I’ve done.
But he will.
And when he does, he’ll either destroy everything trying to get to me… Or stand beside me and rule what’s left of it.
I’m hoping for the latter while trying to accept that it might be the former.
And if he does get to me, it won’t be to cuddle.
Either way, the blood’s already on my hands. I made these decisions knowing exactly where they would get me. No hesitation because my feelings for him couldn’t cloud the plan that was already in place.
And I’m not done yet.
It’s time to take the call that I have been dreading.