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“Yes,” I lie, my fingers digging into the phone.
My daughter isn’t going anywhere near her shady ass.
“Five o’clock,” I say. “We’ll be there.”
I’m potentially walking into a death trap, but fuck it.
When I walk into my mother’s house, she’s waiting for me in the foyer.
Looking past me, she frowns. “Where’s Amara? I wanted to show her your father’s favorite places in the garden. It’d be a great reminder of him.”
I raise a brow. “In the dark?”
She stumbles for words to mask her bullshit lie. “I mean, we have lights out there.”
“Clara is bringing her.”
“Oh.” The word pops out of her mouth. “Clara is coming as well?”
“I figured they’d like to get out of the house and enjoy a nice meal with thefamilywe have left. Father would’ve liked that.”
“Yes … he would’ve.” She slides her hands down her designer dress.
I walk farther into the home, and she gasps when she notices Damien behind me. Good thing my father never used her for help on luring people in because she fucking sucks at it.
“Oh, I didn’t know Damien would also be joining us.” She’s so disappointed that you’d think I told her that brunch was now illegal.
Damien closes the door and then smiles mockingly at her. “I just had to have one of your home-cooked meals, Marsha.”
She appears frazzled and carefully walks in her heels like she’s never worn a pair before. The usual dinner staff is nowhere to be found. What’s even more surprising is she scurries into the kitchen—somewhere she never goes during family dinners because she refuses to mess up her nails while cooking.
I draw my gun and trail her to find Sonny in the kitchen. His chest puffs up when he sees me, and we raise our guns at the same time. Damien is behind me seconds later, his gun also pointing at Sonny.
“You stupid motherfucker,” I yell, charging toward him.
He snatches my mother and plants his gun against her skull. “Sorry, Marsha, baby. I’m only doing this to make sure I’m still alive to protect you.”
My mother trembles in his hold. “My son would never hurt me.” Her gaze lands on me, and her voice is stern. “Just let him take over, Antonio. He’ll do right by the family. I promise.”
“You’re really over there, protecting a man holding a gun to your head?”
“Just shoot Sonny. Who cares if he shoots Marsha in the process?” Damien says mercilessly yet also sounding bored. “It’s clear she can’t be trusted.”
“I never liked you,” my mother snarls at him.
Damien makes eye contact with her. “And I don’t give two fucks.”
I pull the trigger. The bullet smacks into his shoulder since that’s the only clear shot I have without possibly hitting my mother.
Sonny cries out, his body falling back and smacking into a cabinet. He drops his gun, and my mother immediately snatches it. She stands tall in front of Sonny, as if his bodyguard, and raises the gun toward Damien and me.
“I’m only doing this for your own good,” she says, her voice shaking as she holds the gun as steady as she can.
Sonny snatches a dish towel and presses it against his wound, applying as much pressure as he can.
“Step down,please,” my mother begs.
“This was your plan tonight, wasn’t it?” My arm flexes as I tighten my grip on my gun. “Get me here alone and then let him kill me?”
