Page 95 of Vicious Games

No…Could it be?

Could the boys who died in that crash be the same ones who cornered Annamaria?

And if so, is it just a tragic coincidence? Or something else?

Karma… or the Romanos?

I don’t know what unsettles me more. The thought that Lucky’s family might be behind the boys’ untimely deaths or the fact that I don’t feel the slightest bit sorry for them.

And if the answer is the latter, then what does that say about me?

Chapter 14

Luciano

I’m anxious. Fuck that. I’m more than anxious. I’m fucking nervous.

Last Friday, something changed between Frankie and I. I’m not sure what, but I felt it, and so did she. That’s why she all but ran back to the orphanage instead of hanging out back at my house.

I can’t quite put my finger on what happened between us, only that our dynamic has shifted into something… more.

She said she’d never had a real friend before, and I told her I’d be her first. But the thing is… that’s not the only first I want. I crave all her firsts. And that shit is doing my head in.

Usually, Frankie has to wait for me by St. Mary’s fountain so I can drive us to Jude’s apartment for tutoring. However, I skipped my last class today just to be the first one to arrive.

I tried to spot her in the halls all day, but it was like she vanished into thin air. The only time I saw her was during mass this morning—right after Enzo’s new fuck buddy announced to the whole school that the assholes who dared to lay a finger on Anna had bit the dust.

Though I didn’t have a hand in their demise, I knew it was coming. No way in hell was Marcello going to let what they tried to do to Anna slide.

I’m sure Anna knew it, too, even if she didn’t want to admit it to herself. She begged us not to get the parents involved, knowing damn well our fathers would’ve made those two boys—and their families—suffer. But if she thought she could keep Marcello on a tight leash, she was dead wrong.

As I sit on the fountain’s edge, eager for the final bell to ring, it’s no surprise when my brother heads toward me.

Poor Anna. She’s going to have Marcello’s shadow until she graduates.

“Hey,” I greet as he drops to sit down beside me. Marcello just gives a curt nod in greeting. “You here for Anna?” He nods again. “Figured,” I say. “Just FYI—the whole school knows those assholes took a dirt nap over the weekend. Anna included.”

“And your point?” he asks, his voice like gravel.

“My point, dear brother, is that I wouldn’t want to be you in the car ride home. Or when Anna rats you out to Stella. Nice touch making it look like an accident, by the way.” Marcello’s lips tug into a crooked smile at my remark.

“Who do you think came with me?”

Shit. I should’ve known. With Marcello’s bloodlustandStella’s sense of revenge, those two poor fuckers were dead before they even laid a finger on Annamaria.

“Is this how you plan to lead the Outfit one day? Just kill any asshole who rubs you the wrong way?” I half-joke.

Marcello turns his head, leveling me with a serious look, and says, “If I were you, I’d be more concerned with doing your actual homework about the Outfit before you take theomertà. Because if you did, you’d know our father has done worse to men who think they’re entitled to a woman’s body. Our mom, too.”

I swallow dryly because I can see the truth of his statement in his eyes. Not that I’m surprised. We’ve all heard the stories of how our mom killed her own father, The Butcher, out of revenge for the hell she and her mother endured under his rule. How she didn’t hesitate in gutting my dad’s nemesis, Cyro, before he could kill him or Jude. I guess rightful vengeance and blood on your hands is the Romano way.

Funny how some of my siblings are more inclined to follow in our parents’ footsteps than I am. Jude kills without feeling remorse since he believes it’s all part of the job. Stella gets a thrill out of using her daggers on those she can get away with killing without getting in trouble with theCapo dei Capi.And Marcello… fuck. I think heenjoyswatching the light fade from his victims’ eyes.

“Don’t worry about me,” I say when his gaze stays pinned on me for a little too long as if trying to read my soul or some shit. “I’ll be ready when the time comes.”

He turns away, bowing his head, his gaze now fixed on the ground.

“Maybe you should reconsider taking it,” he says quietly, sounding more like the brother who used to push Enzo and me on the backyard swing set than the monster the Outfit created. “Not everyone’s built for this life.”

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