Shit. Maybe this was worse than I had imagined.
My father glanced at my mother, then turned to me, this time sighing softly. “This is not a pretty story, but you need to know it. It will explain why we reacted the way we did when fate chose Liza Mims to be your mate.”
Sweat slicked my palms, and I clenched my hands together. I wasn’t the kind of man to get nervous or even mildly anxious about anything. My father taught me long ago that situations had solutions, and every problem was a priority until it wasn’t—in business and in the pack. This seemed different, though. More.
Mother took a seat next to Dad, her shoulders rolling forward as if the stress of the moment had come crashing down on her.
I braced myself. Whatever he had to say wasn’t going to be easy. The only question was: who would it be worse for?
“There’s no easy way to put this, so I’m just going to come right out with it.” Dad pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. “My father’s father, your great-grandfather, had dealings with the Danish mafia. He wasn’t the first. Our family’s dealings with them went back for many generations.” Dad sighed. I didn’t see a problem. We weren’t dealing with them anymore. Not as far as I knew, anyway. “And thosetransactionswere passed down until I became alpha.”
Okay. Dealings with the mafia. I let out a slow breath. Certainly, all this cloak-and-dagger and middle-of-the-night story time wasn’t nearly as bad as he was making it out to be.
Dad cleared his throat. “Presley Acres was built on dirty money made off the sale of drugs and death. Blood money. Unfortunately, there was nothing honorable about the way our family came into its fortunes.” He spoke softly but with finality.
I stared at him until I was sure this wasn’t some warped bedtime story he was hauling out in dementia or some other affliction that came as a result of his head injury. It wasn’t. This was our history, and it was real. Holy fuck.
“The good news is that we took that money and turned it into lucrative businesses designed to keep our family wealthy for many years to come.”
My eyes widened. “That’s thegoodnews?” My family was built on a legacy of bullshit. It was all lies. All the stories I’d grown up hearing about my ancestors were made up.
Dad shifted his weight and shook his head. “I’m not done, Tyson.”
I shut my mouth and glared at my father. To say I was stunned by his words would have been an understatement. In approximately one minute, he’d blown up my entire life. All this time, I’d thought our family to be pillars of the community. Now, that idealism had gone to hell.
“When your grandfather, my father, passed away, I became the alpha. I knew the truth. Not only did I want a better foundation for our pack, but I also wanted to cut our connections to the mafia.” He raised his eyes to meet mine.
Mother stood and poured Dad a glass of water.. Maybe she needed a minute, too, but all of this sure as fuck wasn’t a surprise to her. My parents didn’t keep anything from each other.
My father gratefully accepted the water from my mother and took a few sips. “The alpha of the Heather Falls pack’s name was Josef. They were our… associates.” He took another sip of water, the glass shaking as he brought it to his mouth. “He was a drug-and-arms dealer, known for being smart and cunning. Josef made the money for all of us. Made us all filthy rich. But it was a dangerous game, and I wanted out. I wanted the pack out. We were finished.” Shaking his head, he reached for my hand. “This isn’t what I wanted for my son. You were only fourteen. I wanted better for you. I certainly didn’t want you to inherit any of that shit.”
I glanced at Mother, who wiped a tear from her cheek. She remained quiet, allowing her alpha to do the talking, but this was painful for her.
“What did you do?” I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees.
“I made it known to Josef that this pack was cutting ties with him.” Dad scoffed. “He wasn’t too happy about that. Josef knew the Keller reputation and knew we were seen as royalty. So, he played the hand he thought would win him the right to continue our dealings.” I watched my dad, saw the tremble in his hand, and heard the crack in his voice, but I’d be damned if I was letting him wait for another day or another time to finish the story. “Josef threatened to reveal the truth behind our wealth. As if that wasn’t enough, he promised to tell everyone how the king of the south was nothing more than a drug lord and weapon-distributing thug.”
My muscles tensed. I didn’t know how the story would end, but if I had been in Dad’s shoes, I would have eliminated the threat.
“My council advised that I send a message by taking Josef out and taking over Heather Falls.”
“That’s what I would’ve done,” I said.
“The council saw it as an opportunity to not only get Josef out of the picture, but also take control of the territory and halt all the illegal activity.” The council obviously had an idea how to prevent those looking to keep Josef’s business alive from taking over and coming for our pack. I hoped they hadn’t blindly counseled my father into doing something that would hurt us now. “They thought this would, ultimately, unite the packs, which was a noble idea. Unfortunately, things didn’t go as planned.”
“They hardly ever do.” That much I’d figured out on my own.
Wincing, Dad rubbed his forehead. “No. There was a mole somewhere among the council members, and Josef learned what we had planned down to the most minute detail. He knew when and where we were going to strike, how we planned to do it, and who would lead the charge.”
Mom whimpered and pressed a handkerchief between her nose and her mouth.
Dad ignored her. “So, what was meant to be an execution of an alpha turned into an all-out brawl. Many great shifters died that day… on both sides.” He looked at me. “A man who will follow his pack, who is loyal to his leaders, is a good man, even if he fights for the wrong side. Remember that.” When I nodded, he took another drink, another pause. “After several hours of fighting, the attack ended in the demise of the Heather Falls pack.”
“Do you need to take a break?” Mother rested her hand on Dad’s arm. “You don’t have to tell the whole story tonight.”
He smiled weakly at her. “It’s time. He needs to know it all.”
She nodded and sat back in her chair, her hand remaining on his arm. It was a small gesture of support but kind and intimate. She loved my father, and I loved her more for it.
