What am I going to do about this man?

I want to assume I stay in an open-minded world with non-judgmental folks. However I don’t. I’ve been born and raised in upper-crust Boston. Custom is carved into each inch of my id, together with everybody I do know. Courting an underground fighter from Southie is not going to merely be frowned upon. Folks will attempt to cease it. My circle doesn’t like change. They like the established order and reject something that threatens it.

There isn’t any doubt in my thoughts that I’m the primary subject of dialog amongst my mates proper now. Phrase that I went house with North has in all probability already unfold past my internal circle to the remainder of the varsity. Collier might want to save face in some way—and I’m certain meaning I’m going to be the sufferer.

In different phrases, college on Monday goes to be an actual delight.

Stretching my arms above my head, I seize my cellphone on my bedside desk to examine the time—and see dozens of texts from my mates, together with Collier. I ignore the entire ugly opinions about my conduct, specializing in their grudging concern and fireplace again fast messages to allow them to know I made it house positive. Then I go away my cellphone face down on the mattress and pad downstairs for breakfast.

Midway down the staircase, the sound of low, hushed male voices brings me up brief.

A type of voices belongs to my father, however I don’t acknowledge the opposite.

Forehead pinched, I proceed down the steps and peek across the door into the eating room—and I’ve to slap a hand over my mouth to comprise my gasp. Sitting at one finish of our eighteen-seat banquet desk is my father. And Boston’s most infamous prison.

Curtis Tennison.

My coronary heart pumps in a wild rhythm in my chest. What’s he doing in our home?

Ever since I used to be just a little woman, I’ve examine Curtis Tennison within the information. He’s been in jail as soon as—for a protracted stretch—and he didn’t clear up his act upon launch. The consensus among the many public is he solely bought smarter. Higher at hiding his crimes in plain sight. What on the planet is he doing assembly with my father?

Staying as quiet as doable, I stay out of sight and take heed to their dialog.

“There are going to be numerous eyes on this growth, Foster. However solely till you’ve awarded the contract. Then everybody goes house. Nothing to see right here, proper?” Curtis shifts some papers. “You decide one of many apparent companies for the job and as soon as nobody is wanting, proper earlier than the contract is signed, you quietly swap to our firm.”

Is he speaking about certainly one of my father’s developments?

Simmons Foster, my father, works in finance, however for the final 5 years has began moving into creating. Investing at first, then main initiatives himself. Primarily, he likes the concept of getting our household title on buildings and procuring facilities round Boston and is prepared to spend some huge cash to make it occur.

“So this development firm of yours…Ludlow Builders,” my father says, consideringly. “Is there any strategy to join you to it on paper?”

“No,” responds Curtis. “There’s no path resulting in me. You possibly can relaxation assured of that.”

My father drums his fingers on the desk, an indication he’s considering one thing over.

“I’ll remind you once more of the explanation you’re awarding the contract to Ludlow. We’ve got numerous mates on this metropolis who can lower by way of purple tape. You’re not going to get tied up with fixed inspections and delayed permits.” A protracted pause. “Though if you happen to go together with another person, I can’t assure these delays received’t occur. Could possibly be much more than you count on.”

“Is {that a} menace?” Simmons blusters.

“Take it the way you need,” Curtis responds with a smile in his voice. “Look, you’ve already bought me in your home. You understand you’re going to conform to this. Let’s not waste time.”

My father sighs. “All proper. We’ve got a deal.”

Is what I’m listening to for actual?

My father is working with a prison? The infamous patriarch of the Boston mob?

I’m in such shock that I don’t understand I’m slipping off the step till it’s too late. One second I’m hidden behind the wall, the subsequent I’m stumbling into view. And staring straight into the shrewd eyes of Curtis Tennison. The person who has his fingers in each criminal activity on this metropolis from playing to actual property—apparently.

“Who is that this?” Curtis drawls, his grey eyebrows lifting, wanting me over in my nightshirt with blatant curiosity. “Your child?”

My father has gone pale as a ghost.

“Certain hope she didn’t hear something,” Curtis continues, although there’s a harmful glint in his eyes now. “Unfastened lips sink ships, little woman. You understand that, proper?”

Pores and skin clammy, pulse racing, I’ve no selection however to nod. “Sure.”

“Good.” The gangster stands abruptly, buttoning his go well with jacket. “You’ll be sure that she stays quiet, received’t you, Foster? I’d hate to should do it myself.”

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