Page 44 of Dark Prince

LORENZO

Sasha disappeared after her dad left last night, locking herself inside my bedroom. That left me to ponder all night what the fuck Mischa said to his daughter that either upset her or pissed her off. Could have been both, but did she talk to me? Hell no. She left me in the dark like she always does. And for some reason, it’s ticking me off more so than usual.

When the time on my cell phone glowed 5:09 in the morning from where I was lying on the couch, I got up.I could have poured bourbon down my throat until I passed out, but for whatever reason, I didn’t want any. No amount of alcohol will solve my shit with Sasha anyway. It’s been my go-to for two years and hasn’t helped. I still wake up without her and it’s slowly killing me. I honestly don’t know how much more I can take.

Problem is there isn’t an alternative. I’d rather have a small piece of her than nothing at all. It’s a lose-lose situation that I don’t know how to win.

She’s keeping something from me, I know that much, but it’s been that way for years; longer than we’ve been married. She won’t level with me. She won’t give me any of her weight to carry. I’d carry it all if she’d hand it over. I’d gladly take it. All she has to do is tell me.

Since my wife locked me out of the room where all my shit is, I mentally strangle her as I walk to the home gym down the hall on the bottom level of the house. I’ll just have to sweat my ass off in the jeans I’m still wearing from last night.

I could have kicked the door in, but then that would be one more thing I’d have to deal with on top of getting the strip club up and running and making money. I know Dom is spending a large part of his time looking for a captain to run good soldiers in New Orleans and all of Louisiana, along with a few of the neighboring states down here. Since there are strip clubs in four other states, we need a strong leader.

In all honesty, I don’t hate it here. It’s not home, and I definitely want to get back to New York, but I have to admit I’m enjoying the nightclub management. I wasn’t heavily involved in Headliners back home like I am with this one.

It feels like I’m accomplishing something more here than I was before I was ordered to do this by my father. Not that I’m ready for Dad to retire, but I don’t hate being Domenico’s second either. I’ve always had my brother’s back, and though it may not seem like it from what happened with Sienna a while back, I have hers too.

When I near the gym, the light shining underneath the door is a good indicator that either the last person that used it left it on or someone is already occupying the space I intend to use. Since no one came downstairs, that means it must be my sister. Si prefers to workout early anyway, so I’m not surprised when I swing the door open to find her nailing the heavy bag hanging from the reinforced beam on the ceiling with her gloved right fist.

The metal music playing is not coming from the speakers in the ceiling and the volume is too low for me to make out what song it is. Since it’s coming from the corner of the rectangular-shaped room, she must be playing it from an app on her phone.

She’s wearing our fight gear-branded attire of a red sports bra with black workout leggings that go to her ankles and has a red stripe down each leg that matches her top. Her spine straightens at the same time her shoulders square up, which is a dead giveaway that she knows someone is in here with her. It’s both good and bad. I’m glad that she’s learning her surroundings, but she’s still giving herself away since I know she sensed me.

“Mornin’,” I say to her back as I walk closer, letting her know it’s me. The mental distance between us is weighing on me damn near as heavy as my rocky marriage with Sasha. I’m a failure at being a spouse and a brother where the two most important women in my life are concerned.

Sienna and I can be fixed. That’s the one thing I’m certain of. She’s my twin, my best friend, even if I’ve been less of one for far too long. She’s mad at me, and I get that. I even deserve one hundred percent of her anger. Hell, I’m mad at me too.

Sasha and I, on the other hand, are in limbo. We could go either way. I know which path I want, and who I want to go down it with, but I don’t know if she wants the same thing. I don’t know if she really wants me anymore. The passion is there. We have the chemistry nailed down, even she can admit that. I can even see that her heart wants me. It’s her head that I’m uncertain about.

“Thought you stopped getting up this early,” she finally says but doesn’t stop throwing alternating punches; only now she’s hitting harder than before she realized it was me in here with her.

“I haven’t been asleep actually,” I say, opting for honesty. I’ve wanted to tell Sienna about Sasha for a long time. My sister knew back in high school there was something between us, but I never confirmed it and she never pushed. When Sasha would be at a Jiu-Jitsu competition and Si would be there too, they always ended up running their mouths about the other. Their jealousy is as laughable as it is infuriating. Neither has a valid reason for it.

“I really don’t want to know about your marital business, Ren, or what happens behind closed doors with you two.”

“Too fucking bad. You’re my sister and my best friend. That isn’t going to change, nor is Sasha being my wife.” Not focusing on whether the possible lie that rolled off my tongue was believable, I continue, “But right now, that isn’t what matters or what I want to talk about. We have to fix us before I can figure out how to get you and Sasha to like one another.”

“You’d have better luck betting on when Hell freezes over than us being friends.” She rotates her shoulder, swinging her elbow up and over, slamming her limb into the bag. Taking a deep breath and then dramatically forcing a whooshing sound out of her mouth, she turns to face me, sweat pouring down her temples. “Of all people, why did you keep it from me? Why even marry her if you weren’t going to tell any of us? Hell, why disrespect Dad the way you did?”

She’s seen me cry more times than I’ve seen her tear up. If I gave that more thought, I’d probably see how pathetic that fact is. But then, Dad spent a good bit of our teenage years helping Sienna master her emotions, which surprises me right now. If it weren’t for the sweat rolling down her face, I’d swear they were tears instead. Her eyes are red, but it’s the hurt, the betrayal reflecting back that’s like a punch to the gut.

“If I had told you, you would have come unglued, then Dad would have found out. I couldn’t chance him stopping the wedding.”

“Can you even consider that a wedding? Who married you, Ren? An Elvis impersonator?”

“Actually, it was nice. Simple. Almost perfect.” And it was. Had my brother and sister and father been there, it would have been the wedding of my dreams. I’ve only ever wanted Sasha to be mine. Sharing that moment with my family would have been the icing on the cake. It’s my only regret about that day.

“Well, I wouldn’t know. I wasn’t important enough to be invited.” There’s a bite and bitchy tone to her voice.

“That’s not true. If you know me like I know you do, then you know I had no choice, but it’s neither here nor there at this point.” I take a breath. “It’s done, and I need you to accept it, accept her. For me, Si. I love her. I’ve been in love with her for as long as I can remember, and if anyone should understand that, it’s you. You and Sasha may never be friends. I’ll deal with that, but you’ve loved Matteo just as long as I’ve loved her.”

“Except there is one difference, Ren.” She grits her teeth, baring them in anger. “You knew I liked Matteo. I came home and told you the same day when we were kids. You didn’t do the same. And that’s part of the bullshit. We’re supposed to tell each other everything. We’re supposed to back each other up.”

“But you did, to a degree. Yeah, I should have told you, and I wish I had, but you knew I was into her.”

“I thought you liked to bone her. I didn’t know you wanted her to be the mother of your children one day. Big fucking difference.”

“No it’s not. It’s the same. You and I are the same. You waited to give it up to Matteo!” I shout, emphasizing what should be the obvious. She rips at her gloves, not pulling the Velcro back to take them off with ease. Seeing her struggle, I grab one of her arms to start doing it for her before she uses her teeth on the straps.

---