Loving My Father's Killer

Naya's POV The rain pelted against my dress like it was trying to remind me of every bad thing that I had done. I swallowed hard, as the salty rain water trickled down my throat. My father, Cole Beckham was being lowered to the ground in his expensive white coffin. That was one of the things that he always wanted. And he finally got it. Being able to rest. Now, here's the thing. I watched my father get killed. People had said that he made a mistake by getting involved with the mafia lord of New York. And they were right. I watched that mistake put three bullets in his chest. “Naya,” my mom whispered, as she held on to my hand, tightly enough to break it. I quickly blinked my tears away. I had to be strong for her. The shovel was handed to my mom, and she immediately pushed a bit of sand into the grave. Her shoulders shook, and she rested her head on my shoulders. “It's a shame that he never had any male children,” one of my uncles said, and I glanced at him. That was enough to get him to shut up. “Mrs. Beckham,” the lawyer, Nate, called out, as she held her slightly by the shoulder. “We need to begin reading the will any second. Can we all head inside now?” My mom seemed to lean against him slightly , before she looked between me and my older sister, Emery. She finally gave us a small nod, and I held her even closer to myself, as I led her inside. I headed to the kitchen immediately, fetching her a cup of coffee. “Do you think she'll ever be fine?” One of the maids asked, making me stop in my tracks. I turned to look at her, while giving her a small nod. Even I didn't know the answer. But it was easier to lie. By the time I walked back into the living room, Emery was seated beside mom, and there were steaming cups of coffee in front of all of us. I sat down, with my back straight and my chin tipped. Just the way my dad always liked it. If he wasn't there, I would at least do the one thing he always wanted me to. “Alright, everyone,” Nate said. “I'm about to read the will as left by my client, Late Mr. Cole Beckham.” Sniffles went round, and I could almost feel my extended relatives’ tongues wagging on the floor. They had always been greedy. It was finally their turn to get the scraps. “Seventy percent of everything goes to my wife, Gina,” Nate said, as he adjusted his glasses, reading from the paper. “And my eldest daughter, Emery, gets twenty percent, and she gets to become the CEO of the Beckham Group of Companies.” I tipped my chin slightly. There was nothing bad about the remaining ten percent that I was going to get. Nate seemed to frown at the paper, and I had a bad feeling about the whole thing. “Is something wrong?” I asked. “The remaining ten percent…” his voice trailed off. “Goes to my brothers and sisters.” Everything seemed to happen in a blur. My uncles and aunts got to their feet immediately. Ten percent of my father's property wasn't something small. It was close to a f*****g billion. Tears filled my eyes for just a second, but I quickly blinked them back. Every head was turned in my direction, like they were waiting for me to lose it. Emery seemed to c**k her head at me. “Dad made his decision,” she said in a whisper, before raising her voice. “He loved you. He just didn't trust you, or consider you worthy of his things.” “What are you talking about?” I asked. If I was trying to hold back the tears, I was doing a bad job at that. “You've gotten drunk at balls. At the charity events.” Emery had gotten to her feet now. She had taken it upon herself to talk to the whole world about my history. “And I've been sober for years,” I said, getting to my feet as well. My knees buckled, almost giving me away. My mom simply buried her head in her hands. I could barely see her expression, but I didn't need to. I could tell that she was with Emery on this. “That doesn't change the deals that you made dad lose.” “I really can't do this with you,” I said, shaking my head, as I reached towards the center table to pick my keys. I slipped them into the pocket of my dress, as I headed out of the house. I was barely outside, when it hit me. I was still about to take their car. Were they going to let me take it? Or were they going to keep it since my name wasn't in my dearest father's will. My hair covered my face as I shook my head, and started walking down the road in heels. They knew how much they had contributed to my negative mental health in the past. They knew how long I spent in therapy. And now, this? “Naya!” I heard someone scream behind me. I turned back immediately, taking in the sight of Nate as he ran towards me. He had taken off his glasses. He was breathing heavily by the time he got to where I stood. “There's something your father asked me to give you,” he said, and I swallowed hard. I watched him as he reached into his pocket, before placing an envelope in my hands. A laugh almost escaped my throat. “Is it a letter of him telling me how much of a failure I was, to him as a daughter?” I asked, and he licked his lips. “Why don't you open it first?” My fingers shook slightly as I opened the flap of the envelope. I slowly pulled out a piece of paper. It crinkled in my hands, and I saw my father's handwriting, sprawled hurriedly against the paper. My hands flew to my mouth slowly, as I read the contents of the paper. It read: By the time you're reading this, I might have been dead. Find Zade Morretti. He's responsible.