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“I don’t know why I’m putting up with you two insolent boys.”
“Because you can’t resist our charm like the rest of the ladies,” Matteo said with a cocky grin. “Though Luca’s rough charm really leaves something to be desired.”
Marianna muttered something under her breath. She had been grateful when I’d asked my father that she be mine and Matteo’s maid. Marianna had always been terrified of Father, but she could never have stopped working for him. He wouldn’t have let her.
“Why don’t you sit down at the table and not stand in my way?” Marianna said.
Matteo and I moved toward the dining area. “And?”
“And what?”
“How does she look?”
I raised my eyebrows at him when we arrived at the table. “She’s got her bitch face in place.”
Matteo chuckled, as if that were the best news he could imagine.
“You really think marrying her is a good idea?” I tried again. I couldn’t stop hoping Matteo would come to his senses.
Steps rang out, then Aria and Gianna entered the room.
Gianna spotted my brother and made a face as if she smelled something rotten. “What’s he doing here?”
Like a masochistic moth, he was drawn to her fiery bitchiness. He sauntered over to her and kissed her hand. “Nice to see you again, Gianna.”
I rolled my eyes at his antics.
Gianna wrenched her hand away. “Don’t touch me.”
Matteo’s eyes flashed with eagerness. I knew that look. I’d have to keep a close eye on those two. They had already kissed. I didn’t need another exchange of bodily fluids while the girl was under my protection. We all took our seats, Matteo across from me and beside his future wife.
Aria watched them with a small frown, obviously as worried as me, and she didn’t even know about their impending nuptials yet.
Marianna bustled in, serving roast lamb, rosemary potatoes and green beans. Her face softened when she patted Aria’s shoulder. What was it about Aria that made people go all soft?
“Why did you crush that guy’s throat?” Gianna asked when we were done eating.
Aria froze before she turned to me. I leaned back in the chair. This was a story I’d recounted countless times in my life.
“Come on. It can’t be that big a secret. You got your nickname for it,” Gianna taunted me, her eyes holding obvious challenge, but I wasn’t Matteo and not as easily baited.
Matteo grinned. “The Vise is a nice name.”
“I hate it,” I said. As if that one moment defined me. I’d killed more brutally, and yet everyone only remembered that one fucking day.
“You earned it,” Matteo said. “Now tell them the story, or I will.”
“I was seventeen. Our father has many brothers and sisters, and one of my cousins climbed the ranks in the mafia alongside me. He was several years older and wanted to become Capo. He knew my father would choose me, so he invited me to his house and tried to stab me in the back. The knife only grazed my arm and, when I got the chance, I wrapped my hands around his throat and choked him.”
“Why didn’t you shoot him?” Gianna asked.
“He was family, and it used to be tradition that we put down our weapons when we entered the home of a family member. Not anymore, of course.”
Family. That word was a joke. My uncles and aunts didn’t give a shit about Matteo or me; nor did our father. For the former, we were competitors for the position of Capo, for the latter a means to an end. If Father figured out a way to clone himself or live forever, he’d kill my brother and me without hesitation. A family based on trust and love that was something I’d never experienced, nor did I hope for it. Some things were out of reach, and I’d learned not to waste energy on longing for them when I had something I could fight for: the Famiglia.
“The betrayal made Luca so angry, he completely crushed our cousin’s throat. He choked on his blood because the bones in his neck cut through his artery. It was a mess. I’d never seen anything like it.” Matteo flashed me a grin. He’d always been more eager to tell my story than me. He found it amusing, while it only made me angry. I’d been foolish in the past, had put my trust in people who didn’t deserve it, and it had almost killed me. I wouldn’t make that mistake again. Trust was stupidity. Love was weakness. My eyes found Aria, who watched me with compassion.
“That’s why Luca always sleeps with an eye open. He never even spends the night with a woman without a gun under the pillow or somewhere at his body,” Matteo’s voice cut through my thoughts, and I realized he was right. Since that day, I’d never been without a gun around other people—until Aria. I glared at my brother. Couldn’t he just shut up?
