Page 5 of Nicoli

“You know I don’t go to Myth without Leandra anymore.” He grins. “You missing me over there?”

“Me? No. But Vera misses having her pussy tag-teamed by all four Del Rossa brothers.”

“Seriously?” He stares at me, deadpan.

I shrug. “She still sucks dick like a pro, though. She sends her love, by the way.”

Alexius sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I swear to God, sometimes I forget what an ass you are.”

“Talking about ass, I see you and Leandra are still fucking like rabbits.”

“Jesus.”

“What? You can’t expect to fuck your wife against a window for the whole world to see and not have me crack some wiseass remark about it.” I slip my hands into my pants pockets. “I just hope to God you got her on some real birth control, because the last thing this house needs is more babies. Having the twins and Isaia around is all the whining I can handle.”

Alexius snickers, and he rubs the back of his neck. “What I have my wife on is none of your business, brother.”

“I know you had her on your dick less than ten minutes ago.”

“Good night, Nicoli.”

“It’s not my job. You know that, right?”

“What is not your job?” Alexius sighs.

“Taking care of shit at Myth like I’m the heir who ascended to the throne when our father died.”

“What are you saying?”

“You’re the Boss, Alexius. Not me. You should be at the club doing what theBossis supposed to do. Rule.”

Alexius rests his hands on his sides, glancing down at his bare feet. “I know it’s not your job to stand in for me when I’m not there. That’s why I’m not asking you to do it as a Del Rossa. I’m asking you to do it as my brother.”

“Aw, fuck. Are you serious?” I roll my eyes. “You had to go play the brother card? Now I not only want to kick your ass, I want to give you a hug while doing it.”

Alexius smirks. “Good night…brother.”

“Good night, Boss. Give Leandra my lo—” the door slams shut in my face “—ve.” I grin.

In the last thirty years, I’ve come to the conclusion that God made us twins and gave me the power to ruffle Alexius’ feathers. Fuck knows, that peacock needs some ruffling every now and then. I’ve been consciously rubbing his face in the fact that he has taken on a less active role in managing Myth every chance I get. That doesn’t mean I don’t get it. I do. The man is married with two kids. His responsibilities shifted; his world changed. It is what it is—and it also happens to be why I do what needs to be done to keep my world from changing.

It’s almost three in the morning, and I walk past Mira’s bedroom door, when I stop, exhaling a heavy sigh. I know what I’m about to do even though I’m trying so fucking hard to convince myself not to. It’s something I do every damn time on nights like these—nights when being with other women does nothing to calm my heated blood. If anything, it only makes me more on edge, sharpening the blades of resentment that cut through me every goddamn day.

I bite my bottom lip, swallowing a frustrated growl as I turn and wrap my fingers around the doorknob, hating that I can’t even walk past her bedroom without feeling like an asshole.

I wiggle the knob the tiniest bit, then wait and listen, making sure she’s asleep before quietly opening the door and stepping inside. I close the door behind me, and her scent drowns my senses. A sensuous musk with delicate jasmine. Familiar. Sensual. Utterly toxic to my system. There are so many other women who wear the same brand of perfume Mira does, but somehow, she’s able to make it uniquely hers. A smell that reminds me of a decision I made fifteen years ago, a decision I’m still paying for today. A decision I’m finding hard not to regret when I’m able to look at her like this—without pretense and secret vendettas. When I can stare without worrying someone might notice…thatshemight notice.

“We do what we have to to protect the ones we care for.”

My feet rest on the floor, planted firmly as I watch her sleep from across the room. I’ve stood at this exact spot so many times before, I can navigate this room blindfolded without making a sound.

There’s no moonlight shining through her window or outside lights casting a glow over her features. But I can see her. I can see her as clearly as the fucking sun. Her blonde hair is splayed over her white silk pillowcase, the red straps of her nightgown touching the ivory skin of her shoulders. It’s Mira’s favorite color. Red. After everything, one would think she’d hate the crimson shade. But instead, she’s grown to love it like it’s somehow connected to good memories. But I know it’s not.

I breathe deeply, allowing her scent to infiltrate my soul so I can be reminded of a bond that once was—a bond I severed the day I stood in a river of blood for her.

My chest constricts with an ache I’m all too familiar with. It’s an ache I force myself to feel because it keeps me focused on what needs to be done.

It sucks to be me.

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