Page 52 of Vicious Games

But before I can take a step, Marcello plants his hand on my shoulder to keep me in place.

“Do you trust this girl?”

“Trust the girl that a couple of weeks ago punched me in the face in front of everyone? Sure.” I laugh, only Marcello doesn’t find me funny. “I trust her enough,” I add more seriously.

“Fine. But at the first sign of a red flag, I want you to put an end to thistutoring.” He emphasizes the word as if it means something else.

I don’t tell him that’s easier said than done, nor do I tell him that tutoring Frankie is the only way I’ll be able to graduate. I don’t tell him any of it, because it’s irrelevant for Marcello. If he wants a person gone, they’re gone.

Marcello has always been wary of strangers. Anyone new that steps into our family sphere raises his hackles. I saw the dirty looks he gave her last Sunday. He wasn’t pleased with her being there in the slightest.

But that’s Marcello’s baggage. Not mine.

However, I know my brother. If I don’t play by his rules, I’ll eventually suffer the repercussions of breaking them.

“First sign, she’s gone,” I lie with a straight face.

But when his tense shoulders don’t relax, I know he read the lie written all over me.

He then leans in and whispers in my ear, “At the first sign, she better be. Or I’ll make sure she is.”

Fuck.

Okay… I love my brother.

Fucking love the moody fucker.

But sometimes, I’m not entirely sure if it’s my brother I’m talking to orsomeoneelse.

Especially when he gets that damn manic look in his eyes.

“You got it. Can I go now?” I ask, not even trying to hide the fact that he’s pissing me off.

He gives me a nod and then walks away, not bothering to say anything else.

A cold shiver runs down my spine when I hear him call out, “Next.”

Yeah, I wouldn’t want to be the next guy to go into the ring with him.

Not when he looks like…

Fuck, I have no idea what he looks like.

He looks like a made man. Deal with it. That’s probably how you’ll look like, too, after a few years working for the syndicate,my conscience whispers in my ear.

Never.

I’ll never flip the switch to my humanity like Marcello has. Enzo and I are going to do things differently. We’re not going to lose ourselves for thefamiglia.

Fuck that.

I hang back a few more minutes just to get my composure in check, so I don’t freak Frankie out. It’s bad enough that I’m freaked. By my own flesh and blood, no less.

When I finally return to the car, Frankie still has the seat belt on, looking frazzled.

“We should’ve stayed at Sacred Heart,” she mutters.

“And deal with all those pompous assholes?” I scoff. “Nah. The only asshole in your life I want you paying attention to is me.”

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