Page 23 of Vicious Behaviors
Technically, the gym belongs toNonno,but we all know how it really works. Any business owned by amade man,retired or not, belongs to thefamiglia.Belongs to the Outfit.
Instead of my father giving me an answer, he surprises me by directing his attention to Frankie. “Frances, sweetheart, would you mind helping me clarify something for my son?”
Frankie glances at Lucky, then me, then Stella. She hesitates but eventually nods. “Of course, Mr. Romano. Whatever I can do to help.”
“Thank you.” My father smiles, though it never reaches his eyes. “You’ve been to Carmine’s gym before, haven’t you?”
“Only once. With Lucky,” she answers, a bit uneasy.
“And what were your first impressions of it?”
She pauses again, flicking her eyes to Lucky, wondering if she should be honest. It’s only after he gives her a reassuring smile and threads his fingers through hers that she answers. “Honestly? I found it… intimidating.”
“And by intimidating, you mean?”
“Scary,” Frankie finishes, not missing a beat. “I found it a little scary.”
“You mean you felt unsafe,” my father says, cutting to the heart of it.
“Yes, sir,” she admits. “There was something… nefarious about the place. Something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.”
“What you felt,” Gio adds gently, “was the presence ofmade men.Lethal men who wouldn’t lose sleep over killing someone as innocent as you.” His tone is calm, almost soothing, which somehow makes it worse.
“Exactly,” Vincent says, now locking eyes with me, as if I should’ve seen his plan all along. “After recent events, I thought I made it clear that this family should keep its head down. Stay inconspicuous. A gym that’s earned a reputation as a hangout formade mendraws the wrong kind of attention. When Carmine brought up the idea of adding new blood to the team and its membership, I saw it as not only helpful but long overdue. Does that settle your reluctance, son?”
I bite the inside of my cheek, having just been publicly reprimanded in front of my entire family.
If my father had done this to Jude, my brother would’ve had a few choice words before storming away from the table.
Me? I stay seated. I stay silent.
“Hold up… what does this mean? You’re letting girls into your gym now,Nonno?” Stella asks, her voice laced with curiosity at this new development.
She’s trying to pull the spotlight away from me. And I’m grateful.
AsNonnolaunches into an excited explanation about expanding the gym and giving it a full makeover, starting with who he lets through the door, I still feel my father’s disappointment pressing into me like a weight.
So when lunch ends, I’m the first to rise from my seat. Needing space, I head into the woods in the back of the house, the cool winter air doing its best to ground me.
Funny, isn’t it? The devil is always quick to push me toward violence, whispering for me to burn it all down, but when it comes to my father—his reprimands, his judgment—he stays silent. I guess, like me, the monster respects him too much to lash out. Even if sometimes we both resent him.
That wasn’t always the case, though. There was a time in my youth when the monster inside me didn’t care for respect, honor, or loyalty. He would bare his fangs at whoever dared cross him, no matter how minuscule the insult. It took me years to condition him to distinguish friend from foe. Who he could show himself to, and who he had to hide from.
However, that restraint came with a price. I had to feed it first if I wanted him to remain civilized.
A part of me was worried that since I hadn’t trained enough this morning, the devil would use my lapse in judgment to his benefit.
But he hasn’t surfaced, not since Izzie.
Izzie… Looks like she won’t be as easy to get rid of as I thought. But my gut instinct is never wrong. She’s not only untrustworthy, but she’s hiding something. I need to find out what before it blows up in our faces.
The only people in this house who can help me with that are the twins. I choose Enzo since he’s far better at being discreet than Lucky.
With a plan in place, I head back inside in search of Enzo, only to find my mother by the fireplace, staring at old baby photos on the mantle mixed with pictures of our departed.
“Are you just reminiscing, Mom? Or are you catching a bout of baby fever?” I tease, with a gentle nudge. “Anything I should know?”
“If you’re insinuating that I might be pregnant again, you’re wrong.” She laughs. “After all, I’m hitting fifty this year, so my baby-making days are well behind me. What I’m really excited about is having our home overflowing with my grandbabies.”
