Page 176 of Inside the Sun

Anzo exhales hard, props his feet up on the edge of the table, and leans back.

He’s extremely tense, I can tell. He’s usually more composed than this.

"I’m not trying to compare our lives," I say quietly. "Obviously, I’ve got no idea what it’s like growing up in a mafia family…"

His face hardens.

"Try growing up as a fuckingbetain a mafia family. That’s the key element. A family where your father beats the shit out of you because he thinks it’ll toughen you up and make you a better mobster. And your older brother? He beats on you too, because he’s jealous. Jealous that you’re actually better at this than he is. And the other brother? Maybe he doesn’t hit you, but he’s the one who stirs things up behind your back. He manipulates people, turns them against you, always scheming and plotting, because he’s jealous of your abilities too."

I stare, stunned. This isn’t like Anzo. He doesn’t just share things, especially not things that make him look vulnerable.

Is he so much on edge?

And he keeps going.

"Eventually, the beatings became their favorite game. Encouraged by my father, no less. A father who fucking hated my subgender. Thought we were garbage. A worthless accident that should’ve been aborted. A burden to society. Useless. Nothing."

I watch him, and I want to feel sympathy. I do. But I think it’s too late for that.

Every monster has his origin story.

But redemption, mercy, only belong to the ones who break the cycle. Who stop the violence.

Anzo looks back at me, his expression bitter.

"When my father took over the mafia from Uncle Alberto, he was already in bad shape. He’d survived a bunch of assaults, been shot more than once, lived in constant pain. He didn’t have the strength to really control us anymore. So my brother Tito saw his chance. He stepped up and took over the house. When he hitMusth, my father couldn’t fully dominate him. Couldn’t stop him, mold him. Tito went off the rails. He was just a teenager, but from that point on, he basically ran the business."

It’s common knowledge that uncontrolled alphas who grow up without the stabilizing energy of a dominant alpha usually end up as emotional wrecks, dangerous as hell. Most of them land in prison. Putting someone like that in charge of a criminal empire? That’s asking for mayhem.

Anzo stares up at the ceiling.

"But you beat them all eventually," I say. "So what’s stopping you now? What’s keeping you from changing how things are in your own life? Do you really have to hurt others the way he hurt you? You could end the vicious cycle!"

His face tightens. He stands, leans over me, grabs my chin, and jerks my face up roughly.

"You don’t know shit. You don’t know what I live with. So don’t you dare judge me."

Then he spins and storms out of the black room, leaving us crumpled on the floor.

Fuck, that was weird!

Lying there, mind swirling, I can’t move for a while. My whole body just gives up.

I turn my head, just barely, and look at Summer.

Blood trickles from the corner of his mouth. One of his eyes is swollen. Bruises snake across his neck. He’s not in any better shape than I am.

"He’s starting to suspect," Summer whispers, his voice shaky.

I look at him and see something breaking. A silent sob tears from his chest.

I crawl toward him and wrap my arm around his small frame, pulling him to my chest.

"It’s gonna be okay. You have to believe that. If he truly knew everything, he wouldn’t be waiting for my report on you. Just a few more days and we’re out of here…" I whisper it so quietly, no mic or camera could pick it up.

"There’s something I need to tell you, Summer…" My voice trembles. "Your brother is my TM—"

Summer’s eyes widen, but at that exact moment, the door bursts open and Matteo walks in, flanked by two guards I haven’t seen before. They move straight for Summer, lift him off the ground, and start to carry him out.

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