Leanne’s expression didn’t falter. She walked slowly to the grand sitting room, gesturing for me to follow. I did, the tension between us building with each step.
When we reached the room, she turned to me, her face calm but her voice firm. “If Bobbie is a murderer,” she said, her eyes piercing mine, “then are you also calling us murderers?”
“You’re calling us murderers?” my mother repeated, her voice calm yet laced with an edge that sent chills down my spine.
I stared at her, confused and uneasy. “Why would you say that?”
I was confused. All of a sudden, I felt like I didn’t know my mother or perhaps my family. Was it because I was away for long?
“What does this have to do with Bobbie or anything else?”
Leanne’s lips curled into a faint, knowing smile. “It’s time you knew the truth, Tracie. Our wealth didn’t just come from clean business dealings. The Whitaker family doesn’t just sit at the top because we’re rich. We’ve built an empire—above and below ground. What you call illegal, we call it ours, too.”
I blinked, her words sinking in like stones dropping into water. “You’re saying… we run something underground? Like… the mafia?”