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“All right, you four need to give me all the details, because let’s face it, I’m out of my element, and you” —I point at Harlow— “need to start talking.”
“Drinks first?” Harlow asks as she pulls an insane amount of liquor from a bag. “Mama Black isn’t big on alcohol. She refuses to keep it in her home, but we can bring it in as long as we take it out. Otherwise, she will dump it.”
“One of her husbands is a recovering alcoholic,” Autumn begins, pulling glasses down from a black cabinet.
I settle in at the island, ready to absorb any and all information they give me, but I need direction first. “Okay, so the guys hinted—”
“The guys,” Tatum interrupts. “Look at you, banging the mafia boss,” she purrs. “Get you some.”
I stick my tongue out at her before finishing my sentence. “They hinted you are all princesses, and I need to know all the details.”
“You want a family tree?” Autumn points a well-manicured finger at me. “You won’t find one. What you will find is a hierarchy.”
“Start there.” I look around the massive kitchen for anyone eavesdropping or a camera watching us. For some reason, I worry that I’ll get kicked out or someone will run in here telling me I can’t know a damn thing.
“No one is going to tell us to shut up.” Tatum pulls out a pack of chocolate chip muffins and hands me one.
They just so happen to be my favorite. “All right.” I nod and rip off the muffin top. “Lay it on me.”
“So, you have Mama Black and her husbands.” Harlow pops the top of a bottle of champagne, which she dumps into a pitcher. “She is the matriarch. The head boss, if you will. Her husbands, Tyler and Sean, are her advisors.”
“Consigliere,” Autumn says, pronouncing a word I will never be able to repeat, even if my life depended on it.
Harlow just rolls her eyes. “Tyler is my uncle by marriage. Sean is my uncle by blood. Our dads are brothers. My dad is their underboss.”
“What does consiglieri and underboss mean?” I ask.
“Consigliere? That’s the advisor,” Tatum says, her words ripe with amusement. “And the underboss, well, they are like the vice principal of the mafia school. Harlow is being groomed for that position.”
Harlow grunts, making it clear how thrilled she is about this career trajectory. “Mama Brooklyn’s not a fan of putting men in charge. You won’t see a lot of guys at the helm here,” she adds, her tone as dry as a desert.
“My uncle and dad started at the bottom of the mafia food chain as runners,” Harlow shares.
“Wait, so Brooklyn fell in love with runners?” I chuckle at the thought. It’s a bit like a princess falling for the stable boy.
“Yeah, you can imagine how that played out,” Harlow replies wryly.
“Also, he’s in love with Tyler.” Autumn winks mischievously. “So it was a package deal.”
“So, Harlow, your dad is second-in-command. What about the rest of you?” I prod, intrigued.
“My mom is a capo,” Autumn reveals. “She’s been friends with Brooklyn for years. They first met at the women’s shelter.”
I can’t help but marvel at how everything circles back to that shelter.
“And our moms are sisters,” Tatum chimes in, a playful glint in her eyes as she points between her and Jani. “More capos.”
“You’ll quickly realize that the Black family operates with a unique twist,” Jani adds with a grin. “Here, the women call the shots and keep everyone in line.”
“Yep,” Tatum says. “Though my dad is a piece of shit,” she says, a reminder of Desmond’s mention that she needed his protection. “He’s from another family. It was a one-night stand. When he found out about my existence, he lost his shit. There have been a few kidnapping attempts.”
All I can do is stare at Tatum in horror. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be.” She shrugs a shoulder, pretending it doesn’t affect her, but the tension in her shoulders and how she clenches her jaw betray her true feelings. “One day, I’m going to kill him, and then I won’t have to worry anymore.”
“Here.” Harlow pushes a shot glass filled with amber liquid toward her. “Apple spice moonshine.”
“Oh, hell yeah.” Tatum tosses it back, barely wincing.
