Steven crosses his arms. “What has he gotten you involved in, Mom?”
She points to the couch. “Can you sit?”
He sighs and takes the seat next to me. She hands Hope to Jamison and sits on the love seat across from us.
“You can’t work for him,” Beth blurts out.
“You keep saying this as if I want to. Tell me why, Mom,” Steven barks.
She closes her eyes, and when she opens them, they are wet. “There are things going on. I need you to trust me on this.”
“Did you seriously come over here with the intention of protecting the sperm donor?” Quinn accuses.
She wipes her eye. “I’m not protecting him. I promise you, I’m doing the exact opposite, and I...” She closes her eyes again.
I reach for Steven’s hand. Beth’s distraught look tugs at my heart.
Steven glares. He lowers his voice. “What does that mean?”
Beth shifts in her seat. “He’s not a good man—”
“You think I don’t know that?” Steven snaps.
“Steven,” I scold.
“I love you, and I don’t want you ever to forget or question it. Do not get involved with his campaign.”
“What are you involved in?” Steven growls again, his eyes blazing with anger.
“Mom, you need to tell us,” Quinn cries out.
Jamison sits next to her. He picks up her hand and calmly says, “Beth, are you in trouble?”
Her lips tremble and tears flow.
Steven stiffens. His voice turns soft. “Mom, please tell us.”
She starts to sob, and Jamison pulls her into his chest.
Quinn puts her hand over her mouth, and her eyes glisten. She and Steven exchange a glance.
Jamison rubs her back as she cries on his shoulder. “Whatever is going on, you need to tell us.”
“I can’t.”
“You have to.”
Quinn puts Hope back in the playpen and sits on the edge of the armrest and places her hand on her mom’s leg. “Mom, please tell us. What has he done to you?”
Beth slowly pulls away from Jamison. “I didn’t know. I swear.”
“What didn’t you know?” Quinn gently asks.
She sniffles. “He’s involved with Giovanni Rossi.”
We all gape at Beth.
Steven moves to the edge of the couch. Fear laces his voice. “What’s he doing with the head of the Chicago mob?”
She swallows hard. “Everything.”
The color drains from Steven’s face. “You need to stay away from him, Mom.”
“I can’t.”
“For God’s sake, you can find another man. Enough of this,” Steven growls so loud Hope screams. “Shit. I’m sorry,” he says to Quinn.
“It’s okay.” She gets up and picks up Hope. “Shh. You’re okay.”
“Beth, you need to leave him,” Jamison insists.
“He’s already warned me. If I leave him...” Her face crumples, and she covers it with her hands.
“What did he threaten you with, Mom?” Quinn gently asks and bounces Hope on her hip.
“He has stuff he’ll pin on me.”
“Like what?” Steven barks.
I put my hand on his. “Try to calm down a little.”
He blows out air and briefly closes his eyes.
“Things I’m not going to tell you. It’s not in your best interest to know.”
“I don’t care,” Steven shouts, and Hope cries again.
I rise. “Steven, let’s take a break.”
He scowls.
“Quinn, you go with them. I want to talk to Beth alone,” Jamison says.
Quinn’s eyes turn to slits. “Why?”
“Please.”
She shakes her head, irritated, but leaves the room with Hope.
“Let’s go,” I tell Steven.
“No. You go with Quinn. I’m staying.”
“Steven.”
“He can stay,” Jamison says. “Go with Quinn.”
I don’t argue. I follow Quinn into her bedroom. “You okay?”
“How could he do this to my mom? She’s devoted her entire life to that sleazeball, and now he’s going to frame her for something to do with the mob?”
I sit down, and Hope grabs my pinky. “I think we need to find out the details and go from there.”
“It’s the mob. This isn’t some second-rate criminal we are talking about. She could end up killed. And what does he want from Steven?” Quinn angrily asks.
A chill runs down my spine. It’s the question Steven keeps asking, but it doesn’t feel like we’re anywhere close to finding out.
21
Steven
Years of anger and rage toward Maximillion using my mom and treating her like dirt doesn’t add up to what I’m feeling right now. “Mom, tell us what everything means.”
“I don’t want to involve you two in this. You could get hurt.”
“Beth, you need to tell us,” Jamison replies, calmer than I’m able to communicate.
I pull a chair up and take my mom’s hand. “Please.”
When she picks her head up, it’s the first time I notice the red veins in her eyes and the lines that seemed to have formed overnight even though Maximillion pays for her to get shots in her face. She doesn’t admit it, but Quinn found out one time and told me. And it’s another reason I hate him.
My mother is beautiful and doesn’t need to be pumped full of chemicals. But whatever Maximillion wants, she’s always done.
And she looks thinner than usual, bordering on the too-skinny side.
How long has this been weighing on her?
“I... I didn’t know. I promise. He picked me up around nine Sunday night. I... I thought we were going to dinner by ourselves. I wanted to convince him to leave you alone, but...he got a phone call. He had the driver turn around and said we had to meet an important donor involved in the urban housing initiative.”
“The one Vivian’s foundation is a part of?” Jamison asks.
“Yes.”
My stomach flips. Vivian creates low-income housing in urban Chicago areas. She’s worked hard to provide clean, safe, and affordable homes for those who need it. When I was a child, before my mother began working for Maximillion, we lived in a low-income apartment. It was disgusting and unsafe. The electrical was outdated and things always broke, but the landlord never fixed anything. Vivian’s apartments are the exact opposite, and all of us support her foundation and do whatever we can to help her. “What happened?”
“We didn’t go to a restaurant. We went to a mansion in Lincoln Park on Burlington street. Giovanni Rossi was at the dinner table. They spent the entire night discussing Giovanni’s involvement in the unions and how he wants the contracts to the upcoming developments. He promised Maximillion the union vote would go to him if he gets it. But that wasn’t all.”
“What else, Mom?”
“I saw the papers and the accounts.”
“For what?”
“The folder he sent you. The one you returned to the governor’s mansion.”