Page 101 of The Disputed Legacy

I’d left Willow’s father for the last of the kills. It was a shame her mother had passed already from a car accident a few years ago. I would’ve enjoyed letting her watch her husband’s death.

That was why it had taken me all day, why I was away and not in contact with her. Flying all over to personally avenge herinnocence, I made a marathon of killing those who’d ever made her fear others and letting people into her life.

Despite all her hardships, she’d survived and raised Oscar to the best of her ability. It was with great pride that her next child would be a different experience, one where she would be surrounded by family and want for nothing. Where she’d fear nothing.

After breakfast, I joined my brothers to oversee the end of the Romanos. Similar to when we’d taken out the Kozlovs, we were able to fashion a one-hit strike against our enemy. It was their bad fortune that they’d decided to celebrate Dominic Romano’s birthday on a large yacht. One that housed all the leaders and capos of the family.

Standing at the docks while the bombs exploded and killed them all, I waited, counting out the seconds before drones would drop explosives on the warehouses and buildings where they stored most of the illegal goods.

Aside from the initial blasts at sea and on land, my brothers and I could rest assured that our Ivanov forces would complete the minor nuisances of the lower-ranking soldiers and spies. By morning, we would know how many—if any—survived the hits.

When I returned to the house, my brothers went off to find their wives and children to join me for an early dinner.

“Are we celebrating the, uh, assignment that was completed today?” Willow asked as we rode the elevator down to the main floor.

Oscar furrowed his brow. “Assignment? Like homework?” he peered at me as I raised my brows at Willow, as if to askreally?

She bit the corner of her lip as she cringed.

“Not quite,” I told him.

“The, um, job thing,” Willow said.

“Not quite,” I told her. “It’s just a family dinner.”

We reached the floor and Oscar darted out to find his buddy, George, the gardener’s son who was always around as we made sure to let every member of the organization feel like family. Since the gardener lived here and his son was here too, it was a perfect situation for them to be best friends.

I held Willow back, snaking my arm around her waist.

“I…” She blew out a huff, exasperated. “I never know what to call anything.”

I smiled. “Less is best,” I advised.

She smirked. “Oh, that’s not vague at all.”

I kissed her temple. “Just spend more time with the others. I’m sure Sloane will have colorful advice and tips about how to avoid talking about business.”

“I know. And I appreciate how everyone is considerate of sheltering yet teaching Oscar how… this world works.”

I nodded.

“Did it go okay, though? The ‘operation’ today?”

I laughed again, pushing her hands lower. “The air quotes don’t help either.” Kissing her and feeling her smile against my mouth, I knew this would be the best family dinner yet.

“It went fine. The Romanos are no more.” I was premature to claim that, but I knew our men would do their jobs.

As soon as we reached the dining room, I saw everyone cheering on Oscar to sit with us under the banner that announced his…

“Adoption?” Willow asked.

I nodded, bracing myself for Oscar running up to me and crashing against me. I anticipated his hug, so I lowered to spin and swoop him up into my arms.

He cried big, fat, happy tears as he looked at me. “You meant it? You really want to be my daddy?”

I nodded, peeved at how fucking closeIwas to crying too. As I held him, I reached into my pocket and pulled out a copy of the adoption papers that marked it as official.

“I think when he says something, he always means it,” Willow said, hugging us both and placing her head on my chest.