Page 8 of Redeemed (Redeemed #1)

Chapter Seven

Kennedy

T he Rose Estate is home to a lavish, multiple story mansion built by my grandfather.

The various warehouses that sit across the property come into view as I travel down a long country road.

This compound consists of ten acres of land in the middle of nowhere.

We house distribution buildings for multiple companies’ imports—mainly motor vehicle parts and mechanical machinery.

Most of the companies are legal partners.

Then there are a few—our pharmaceutical partners—that make it possible to transport our product into and around the country.

There’s a consistent flow of trucks coming and going most days of the week, but on Fridays, our product is delivered.

All hands-on deck means every crew leader reports to the estate in the morning and doesn’t leave until every truck carrying our shipments has been delivered.

The product doesn’t stay on this property longer than twenty-four hours, so it’s imperative to have it unloaded and prepped for transfer to our street crews to sell.

As I drive through the property, behind a truck slowly maneuvering down the driveway, I send up a prayer that we make it through the day without issues.

Product shipment days are the worst. On normal days, it’s typically just Nathan and I on the grounds with security overseeing the trucks coming in and out—there isn’t a reason to put on the mask of a no-nonsense leader.

Today, though, I have to be the leader my father expects me to be.

I’ve never aspired to be anything like my father, but when dealing with his crew, things must be handled in a specific manner.

I pull into my designated parking spot and take a moment to prepare myself for the day ahead.

It’s weird to think I spent some of my childhood summers here, running through this field, chasing behind Nathan without a care or responsibility in sight.

We were here visiting when my mother went missing, taking all the great memories attached to this home with her.

I stop myself from slipping into those thoughts as I hop out of the car and check out the full parking lot.

I glance down at the warehouses, making my way to the front entrance to find a driver maneuvering the truck into position with the help of a few crew members.

From here, things seem to be going smoothly, and I take that as a good omen for the rest of the day.

As my hand grips the cool doorknob, that good omen feeling slides away.

I’m greeted by yelling and raised voices filtering through the main house entrance.

I could be here to kill these idiots, and they would never hear death coming.

Managing the men that work for The Rose Empire is the worst part of inheriting this legacy.

Being surrounded by so much testosterone usually puts me in the worst mood.

“Pay me my money, bitch!”

That shouting jackass is none other than Nathan.

While shipment days are the bane of my existence, he thrives on hanging with the boys.

This is his bonding time with the crew, and I envy the relaxed state he can be in.

As the heir to The Rose Empire these people work for me and there is no room from fraternizing, but those rules don’t apply to Nathan.

I enter the living room to find complete and utter chaos. The PS5 is plugged into the TV, blaring some loud-ass video game, and there’s a pile of money in the middle of the table. Some men lounge while others are on the edge of their seats, awaiting their turn.

One by one, they realize I’m standing at the entrance of the room. The light leaves their eyes as their posture becomes straighter. It’s like watching a child get caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

“Wow, Nate. Hard at work, buddy?” I flip him the bird while limping through the living room to get to my office. I look down at the money and trash that litters the table and direct my next statement to the whole room. “Clean this shit up!”

The room springs into action—everyone except for my best friend that keeps his ass firmly planted on the couch, laughing at the leaders scrambling to follow orders.

“Happy Delivery Day, boss,” Nathan says with a toothy grin as I continue the trek into my office, slamming the door behind me.

My office is my sanctuary in a place that conjures such mixed feelings.

I immediately kick off my shoes, digging my toes into the plush carpet I had installed.

There’s mail and reports waiting on the desk for my attention, but they can wait one more moment.

I plop down in my office chair and spin around to look out the window at the fields behind the property.

The small garden of roses my mother planted next to the red barn still thrives, thanks to Ms. Kathy’s care.

It serves as a reminder that good was once present and alive in my life.

I drag my gaze back to my desk and start making my to-do list. The list that gives me a sense of control and serves as my guide to leave the property as soon as possible today.

It feels impossible to escape the memory of waking up to the chaos that ensued the morning my mother disappeared.

There are so many days I want to let the anxious feelings win, but that’s not how I’m going to get my mother’s revenge.

There’s a knock at my door before Nathan opens it and strolls right in with a steaming cup of coffee.

“That better be for me, or you can just fuck right off,” I say with my hands already stretched out to accept the much-needed shot of caffeine.

“You looked like you needed some caffeine to take the edge off. The boys were about to shit their pants when you walked in.”

I bring the coffee cup to my face to smell the aroma and hide my smile. “Yeah, I wasn't in the best mood coming in this morning. When we decided to move to Georgia, I didn’t think about the fact that every day I would come to work at the last place I saw my mother alive.”

Nathan’s hand goes to the back of his neck, and he averts his gaze. I know that nervous tick from years of friendship.

Anything remotely close to talking about feelings is uncomfortable for him.

“I never thought about it that way.”

I close my eyes as my lungs fill with as much air as they can hold.

“It seems to be all I can think about some days,” I respond as I begin going through the papers on my desk.

Nathan leans forward, resting his arms on the top of his legs. “This life is what allows us to work toward catching the people responsible for your mother’s disappearance.”

I narrow my eyes at the words he believes will make me feel better, but they only confirm that I need to take this situation into my own hands. I’ve never had the chance to grieve the loss of my mother because I was pushed into attack mode.

But there’s no way I’m having this conversation right now, with a day’s worth of work to be completed.

“I told you yesterday that things will be fine. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have paperwork to get through.”

He stands to his full height, looking down at me behind my desk. “I’ll be down at the warehouses if you need me. Cary should be bringing up the money for the week soon.”

I give him a brisk nod as I turn my attention to the email notification that just pinged. The tension in my shoulders dissolves with the click of my office door closing me off to the world again.

But just as one problem walks out of my office, another hits my inbox.

“Fuck!” I run my fingers through my hair as I take in this new information in utter disbelief. My gut churns with the threat of expelling my breakfast.

The tech team I assigned to comb through Antonio Garcia’s life uncovered information that would’ve been nice to know before I removed him from the planet.

He was Michael Ellis’s personal arm’s dealer.

There’s no way my father’s team missed this information.

Which could only mean one thing: I was sent into that mission completely unprepared.

It takes me an hour to get through the emails that have piled up in my inbox.

The perfect distraction for the shitstorm I may have unknowingly created for myself, because I have to put aside the information about Antonio Garcia until Nathan and I can talk at length.

Nathan will be just as blind-sided as me, and I need his focus on our shipments.

So, I channel my anxiety into the work I can actually control.

My father and I are investors in many companies around the United States, which means I’m copied in on any email that could possibly need our attention.

After graduating homeschool, I convinced my father to allow me to take college classes online.

He took pride in me earning a degree in finance, but a line was drawn when it came to me making suggestions about how he could better run his business.

Ashton Rose would prefer to operate with his archaic business structure: bullying old restaurant owners into needing “protection,” and demanding they clean our cash for using our services.

My grandfather took the investment route during his time as the kingpin, which has done well for garnering clean money.

I took things to the next level and made bigger investments in start-up tech companies, and some have done well for us.

I switch from my emails to the stack of reports on my desk. My aggravation with my father’s ancient system comes in when I switch from modern technology to deciphering handwritten ledgers from our restaurant businesses.

I know I’ll need another cup of coffee to make it through this stack, so I go in search for more.

I’d just set the coffee maker to brew when Ms. Kathy comes walking into the kitchen, both hands weighed down with grocery bags. I immediately step in, taking them from her.

“Why are you carrying all these in, Momma Kay?”

Ms. Kathy fixes me with a stern look. “You shouldn’t be doing any heavy lifting with your injuries, Kennedy Eden Rose.”

I cringe at the use of my full name.

“You shouldn’t be carrying bags at all with all the boys here that could help.”

She waves me off with a flick of her hand before removing her jacket and hanging it on the back of a chair. “Cary is bringing in the rest behind me. What’s happened since this morning? You have that look on your face.”

I school my facial expressions, because no one should be able to read me as easily as she does. She just chuckles before raising her brows, waiting for an explanation.

“I may have made a misstep last night, but nothing I can’t fix.” Or at least, I hope it’s something I can fix.

“You’re human, girl. Mistakes will happen.” She looks up from washing her hands with narrowed eyes. “It’s that father of yours that’s tried to turn you into his perfect clone. You’ve always had too much of Franny in you to be anything like him.”

I smile at the nickname for my mother and the likeness she claims to see. Maybe there is hope for me after all.

Cary comes into the kitchen carrying twice as many bags as what Ms. Kathy had. He awaits her direction for where she wants the bags before helping her put everything away.

“Cary, I’m ready to go through the weekly money counts. Meet me in my office.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he responds with a nod of his head, as he leaves through the back door.

“Kennedy!” Ms. Kathy calls as I’m leaving the kitchen. “Remember everything has a way of working itself out. There’s no mistake that can’t be changed for the better.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I say as I make my way back to my office.