Page 11 of Bitter Prince
Dante rolled his eyes. “His bedroom. His kids’ bedrooms. There was another library. Nothing.” We were silent for a few heartbeats when he continued, “Aren’t you wondering why the Yakuza would want you dead? You’re supposed to be the next in line to lead it, not be executed.”
I shrugged. “I’ll talk to Mom and see if we can get any information from her contacts. If the Yakuza wants me dead, there must be a reason.”
“You mean, besides the fact that you’re supposed to take over when your grandfather dies?” My uncle would have been next in line to take the crown, but he was murdered. In his own home. Culprit unknown. Not that I gave a shit. “I bet it’s Itsuki.”
“He just turned eighteen.”
“Nothing stopped us from killing before we turned of age.”
Good point. After losing his only son, my grandfather had sought out my mother and forgiven her transgressions—namely choosing an Italian over the Yakuza. It was clear he just wanted to line up his succession, and my cousin was a brainless idiot. He was cruel, impulsive, and plain stupid.
7
REINA, 14 YEARS OLD
It was one in the morning when Phoenix parked her Jeep across the street from Grandma’s mansion. Carrie Underwood's lyrics still buzzed in my ears and adrenaline pumped through my veins. My eyes darted to my sister who was smiling widely. Yeah… The concert was legendary.
We made our way back to the house the same way we’d left. Except, unlike this morning, I’d ensured my dress didn’t catch on the spikes.
It wasn’t easy sneaking in under Papà’s watchful eye—or should I say, his blinking red cameras. It was the only way he agreed to let us stay here during our school breaks. Otherwise, he’d have insisted we went to Italy.
Goosebumps broke on my skin, remembering our last trip to Italy eight years ago. Mamma’s vacant eyes and ghostly pale face.
I blamed Papà for it. She was always wary of his world, yet he insisted on pulling her into it. Papà was the head of one of the five families of the Omertà. His criminal network—the mafia—stretched from Italy, through Europe, all the way to South America.
Papà didn’t know Phoenix and I knew he was a criminal. Of course, I didn’t know what being a criminal entailed, but I knew it wasn’t good. However, it was good that he let my sister and me stay with our grandmother when we weren’t at boarding school.
Following the well-worn path, our feet soft against the grass, we circled around to the back where our bedrooms were. Grandma’s bedroom suite was on the ground level, facing the ocean. Our rooms were on the second floor, right above hers, with a balcony that wrapped around to the side of the house. It was how we managed to sneak in and out of the house most of the time, the crashing waves covering the sounds of our careful footsteps.
“Go first,” I told my sister.
“You should,” she protested.
I shook my head. “No.I’ll stay and listen for anyone coming.”
With that, she started to climb up, gripping the rope we’d hidden behind the vines that crawled up the side of the estate. Just as she reached the top, she crawled over the balcony rail, then turned around, giving me a thumbs-up. I started climbing and soon joined her on the balcony.
“See,” I signed, grinning. “Easy-peasy.”
Truthfully, it was easier to sneak out of the boarding school than here when Papà was in town. But we had no control over Papà’s comings and goings, so we were extra careful when we left, sticking more to the neighbor’s property than ours.
Taking my sister’s hand in mine, we made our way into my room. The moment we stepped inside, the lights came on, revealing Papà sitting in the chair, his arm wrapped in a bandage and a dark expression on his face.
“Shit,” I muttered as Phoenix’s fingers tightened, gripping my hand painfully.
“Are you drunk?” Papà hissed. He was so mad, I swore I could see steam coming from his ears. He rose to his full height, towering over the two of us. Phoenix was taller than me, but under our father’s scrutiny, she shrank too.
I shook my head, gulping audibly. His eyes darted to Phoenix and back to me.
“We didn’t drink any alcohol,” I vowed, my heart beating so hard I feared it’d crack my ribs. I missed the person he was before Mamma died. I missed his smiles and hugs, but it was as if he died that same day she did and someone who looked like Papà took his place. As much as I wanted to fight to bring him back to us, I needed to get through tonight first.
“Are you lying to me, Reina?” The storm in his eyes told me he thought I was. A wave of nausea crashed over me, but I ignored it.
I shook my head, forcing my face to remain expressionless. Papà always made me nervous when he was this furious, and he could easily misinterpret my skittishness for guilt.
Without warning, he wrenched Phoenix away from me, raised his hand, and readied to slap me. I didn’t move, watching as if in slow motion as his hand came closer and closer, but the slap never came. Phoenix took one step, and the slap meant for me connected hard across her face. Her head whipped backward as she whimpered.
I felt Phoenix’s pain as if it were my own.Protect your sister.Mamma’s words rang in my ears, urging me to take this punishment for her. As fury bubbled inside me and painted the scene red, I readied myself to fight back.
