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Chance laughed; karma was a bitch.
“Any idea who bought it?” he asked.
“A woman called Madisen Roderick,” Rooster answered and waited.
“Her name rings a bell.”
“Her father was Oscar Roderick,” Rooster elaborated.
“As in the crime lord who recently died in Florida?” Chance questioned, showing surprise.
“Yup. His heir was arrested for assaulting his sister, then busted for drug running. He has been refused bail, and she disappeared. Seems she’s turned up here,” Rooster said.
“Get Pyro on it. He’s the best we got at digging shit up,” Chance ordered.
“Pyro?” Rooster asked, looking surprised.
“Trust me. Fucker’s got skills he’s been hiding.”
“You say so, Prez. What we gonna do about the building?”
“We will wait and see what they plan to do. Should it be illegal, we’ll move them on. Without the extra twenty per cent.”
Madisen
Ignoring the looks people were giving us, my cousins and I walked down the street to the new property we’d built. It was big enough for what we wanted to do. We planned to open the basement as a speakeasy, as in a 1920s speakeasy. We wanted it to be for members only. It was going to be glamorous and decadent. The ground floor would hold a club based on the same era, open to the public. First floor would be split between a ladies’ club and a men’s club, again, members only.
The second floor would be a shop for clothing from that time with matching shoes and jewellery. Tami had plans and was already contacting suppliers to stock it. Cami would have the third floor as a dance studio to teach people the dances. And Brandy would open offices on the fourth floor to continue our charitable donations. A smile crossed my face. Oscar fucking Roderick would be spinning in his grave at watching what we were doing with his fortune.
His legacy died when we snuck out of Florida. His billions were ours and being put towards good causes. Brandy was in heaven, spending his hard-earned dirty money. All of us had sold the houses and everything else, and we’d bought a nice four-bedroom house toward the edge of Spearfish. Brandy and Cami shared a room, while Tami and I had our own.
Since moving there, my cousins had been more open with their relationship. Not related at all through blood—and only linked because of me—Cami and Brandy had been in a relationship since they were sixteen. Even though they hadn’t grown up together, discovering their love as unaware teenagers amid family politics, my uncle had severely frowned on it and separated them. Now, they could be free. And I loved it. Tami, much like me and Cami, was dressed in a 1920s-day dress. We adored clothing from this era and rarely dressed in anything else.
Brandy, however, looked ace. She never wore dresses and always wore suits based on the men’s style at the time, always tailored to a feminine shape. Brandy wore black and white brogues, pin-striped pants with a white silk blouse, and a matching striped waistcoat. She had a purple tie loose around her neck, and her short blonde curls had a hat balanced on top. Her arm remained raised with a jacket hooked on her finger and slung over her shoulder. Brandy was the very epitome of cool.
Cami wore a blue dress with matching Mary Janes, a coat, and a cute little hat. Tami wore the same in peach while I wore black and white. We could feel eyes on us, but we didn’t give a fuck who said or thought what. After years of being suppressed, we could be ourselves. Screw everyone else. This was a fresh start after two years of planning, and nobody was going to ruin it.
My father’s empire had fallen to pieces soon after Jere’s arrest. I had sold off all properties, businesses, and anything else, including the car collection, and banked the cash. As soon as Oscar’s colleagues noticed I owned everything, most disappeared, not willing to work for a woman. That suited me just fine. Several had tried to force me into marriage to gain control of the money, and soon realised that I was a Roderick for a reason.
We’d muddied our trail, but I knew anyone determined could find me, and my will had been written while I was in the hospital as a final precaution. A quarter of the money would go to my cousins, held in a trust, and the rest would be split between several big charities. Mr Applegate had been very thorough, making it watertight like my own father’s had been. A smirk crossed my face as I thought of how Oscar’s head would have exploded if he’d known what his stupid daughter had accomplished and my future plans.
Oscar had underestimated me, his mistake. I’d no regrets at killing the murderous, raping bastard, nor any at stealing everything he planned to leave my jackass brother. Jere was a clone of Oscar, and the world was better off without them both.
“You okay?” Tami asked, hooking her arm through mine.
“I’m perfect. Are you looking forward to seeing the plans?” I quizzed.
“Yes! I’ve found some wonderful seamstresses who can make my designs as well. It’s a whole new world for us, Mads,” Tami said gleefully.
Since Oscar’s death, Tami was finally free to be the bouncy, beautiful woman she’d always been. No more cowering, no Tami let it all shine, and I revelled in it. Even if what I did came to light, I’d happily do time to see my cousins in their glory. They were, so I was. That was all that mattered.
The four of us marched into the building we had bought, and I threw a glance over my shoulder and saw several men in leather cuts watching us. They belonged to an MC. I shifted my attention away from them and instead considered the car park opposite, which would come in handy for clients. I wondered if we would be able to arrange for it to be open late before turning back to our building.
The architect met us inside, a handsome Native American who looked us over but offered no reaction. BlackRock Construction had the best reputation in this part of South Dakota, and so I’d reached out. After several long calls with guys called Apache and Rock and their architect, I was ready to see the plans.
“Apache?” I asked almost hesitantly.
“Yeah. You Madisen?”
