Page 18 of Vicious Games

“Is it?” She bats her eyelashes at him to look innocent. “Or is it time you considered someone else to take theomertàinstead? Someone more qualified, perhaps? Someone who is never taken by surprise?”

Of course, Stella would use any excuse—even me getting punched in the face—as a way to further her attempts at getting our father to break years of tradition and induct her into thefamiglia.

Even if that means making me look like a chump in our father’s eyes.

Before I have time to defend myself, my mother interjects, “Can we please have one meal where I don’t have to hear about one of my children being inducted into the Outfit? Please?”

The kitchen falls silent at the sound of frustration in her voice.

We might be a bunch of hard-headed assholes, but no one likes pissing off Mom, much less making her sad.

I take my seat at the table, loading my plate with scrambled eggs and bacon. Not that I have much of an appetite anymore.

My father settles into his usual spot at the head of the table while my mother takes the seat opposite him.

The silence stretches until my father’s gaze drifts toward the two empty chairs at the table. One is Jude’s, which is unsurprising since my eldest brother lives in England with his wife, Mina. However, it’s the second empty chair that has my father frowning.

“Marcello left early for Nano’s gym, Dad,” Stella says before he even asks. “You know he likes to work out in the morning.”

“I assumed as much,” he replies, still not looking pleased. “Though I do wish we could all have a meal together. Like a family should.”

“We’ll have dinner,” my mother offers.

“Maybe,” he mutters, just as Lourdes, our cook and housekeeper, fills his coffee mug with his favorite Colombian blend.

No one says anything because we all know the truth—Marcello will probably be a no-show for dinner, too. Lately, he’s been skipping family meals altogether, only showing up for Sunday lunch after Mass. But that’s not all. Marcello has been staying over at Jude’s place more frequently instead of coming home.

It’s like he can’t stand living with us anymore.

I mean… I get it.

Marcello’s twenty-one now. He needs his space, and in this house, no one has privacy.

Our dads probably see him more than we do, as he’s been working as an enforcer since his induction. In a few years, our father will appoint him as underboss, and when he retires, Marcello will take his seat asCapo dei Capi.

That’s a lot to put on a guy’s shoulders, knowing his whole future is already mapped out for him.

Not that Marcello seems to mind. If anything, I think he likes the structure.

Me?

I’d fucking hate that shit.

I enjoy my freedom to fuck up as much as I want to.

While Enzo and I plan on taking theomertàafter graduation, we know our role in the Outfit won’t be busting heads.

We want to use ourbrains.

The Outfit has been running things the same way for decades, but the world has changed. Crime can be safely conducted from behind a screen.

There’s an entire industry the Outfit hasn’t even touched yet. Hacking. Ransomware. Cybercrime could bring millions upon millions to the syndicate.

That’s what Enzo and I plan to bring to the table.

I’ll leave it up to Stella and Marcello to get their hands dirty.

Don’t get me wrong. If I had to kill someone to protect my family, I would. In a fucking heartbeat. But why go through all that trouble when you can just destroy an enemy’s life online?

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