If I'd observed all the rules, I'd never have got anywhere. (Marilyn Monroe)

The rules threw me off and they didn't seem important. I had never followed rules and I had reaped many rewards for the corners I'd cut.

“You're turning into your father,” Senior told me as if it was an insult. “You had so much promise, Honey, and I had so much hope for you. I saw the best of me in you.”

I didn't like where this was going.

“You had an empire at eighteen. Maybe you came up too fast. Maybe it was the drugs. My boys, all of them, that was what ruined them. Drugs mess you up.”

“Come on,” I laughed. “How can you say that? You've been selling drugs all your life.”

“And screwing up other people for my own personal gain. That's better than screwing up myself for someone else's gain. I dabbled in drugs but I always had control. My boys never did, they were all too emotional. But you, you had the potential to do all the things I wanted them to. When you were born, I remember this perfect Christmas baby. You were so small and you seemed so weak and I was compelled to protect you. I had never seen a newborn baby girl before. When I reached for you, your tiny arm batted my hand away. You were so tiny, so, so tiny but I could feel the strength. My initial need to protect you turned to a feeling of pride. I'll always want to protect you but, I don't know, I could sense a strength in you that had the potential to crush any obstacle. As you grew I was increasingly convinced of your power. You ran our house from the day you were born but we loved you. The greatest dictators are the ones who are loved.”

“How can you love a dictator?”

“The same way I loved you after you overthrew my reign on my own house.”

“Senior,” I said skeptically. “No one ever respected or feared me like they did you.”

He ignored me.