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SASHA
“Motherfuck,” Ren says under a hard breath, eliciting a self-satisfied grin from my lips. I really couldn’t be prouder of myself than I am right now.
“Ma, calm down,” Matteo continues on as he stands, snatching Brooklyn’s iPad off the table.
“What did you do, you fucking bitch?” Sienna fumes in my direction as her fiancé makes a fast exit from the kitchen. Ren is off his stool a second before she tries to lightning speed her way past him to get to me. He grabs one of her wrists, wrapping his hand around it then pushes against her chest with the other, forcing her backward.
I giggle like a stupid five-year-old, loving every damn second of the scene unfolding in front of my eyes.
“Stop, Si,” Lorenzo demands, the heat in his tone telling me he’s just as mad as his sister is. The question is, is he mad at her for trying to come kick my ass or me for causing all the drama. If I had to place a bet, he’s thoroughly enraged at little ole me.
Granted, he has every right to be.
If the tables were turned, I’d have the same level of steam coming out of my ears that Sienna does right now. It was a bitch move on my part, which I can admit, to myself at least. But I can’t compete with jealousy any more than she can either. It’s the one trait we have in common where Ren is concerned. If I’m being honest, she would have gladly done the same thing to me, given the chance.
It’s what we do, and if Tony Caputo was a smart man, he would have never allowed us in the same house, let alone the same damn room. Is the boss really as smart as everyone thinks he is?
“Take your hands off me, Ren, and get the fuck out of my way, dammit,” she berates.
“Si, cool it,” Ren continues as he fights her from steamrolling forward. She is strong, and like me, she’s used to physical combat with her brothers. With Lorenzo as frustrated as he is right now, he’s easily losing his grip on her. I hadn’t planned on getting into a fist fight with her this morning, but if that’s what she wants, I have no problem kicking her ass now, the same as I did last night.
I’m always game to knock a bitch out.
“I swear to God, brother, I will break your face if you don’t get out of my way.” She lifts her leg with the sole purpose of kneeing him in the gut, but he dodges the blow. Watching her, you wouldn’t know she was in a professional kickboxing match last night other than the remaining evidence of the cut on her lip. It’s not as swollen as it was hours ago, but it’s still there, the same as the bruise on my cheek that I covered with makeup I swiped from Sienna’s bathroom before I came down the stairs.
I mean, we’re officially sisters on record now, so she has to share her shit with me. I should let her in on that little secret, but then it’s not like she’s a dumb bitch. Had my little tweet not come to light so quickly, she would have figured it out by now. It’s not like my father dragged me over with my bags packed. Where else would I have gotten access to glam up my face?
Apparently, she opted to go au naturel on this Sunday morning. Sienna is one of those women that you never know what you’re going to get: made up ho, or not a lick of paint coating her olive skin. Me, on the other hand, will not be found without some makeup on my face unless I’m in the gym or in a match. My fair complexion needs all the help it can get.
I’m not insecure; well, not where my looks are concerned. I just enjoy looking pretty. I’m not vain. I just love makeup. I like experimenting with it, going for different looks. I’m lucky I’m a blue-eyed blonde. Every color works on me, nothing clashes. Sienna’s look is more of that thick, black eyeliner and more jewelry than should be acceptable on a person at one given time.
“Back off and I will,” Ren argues.
Getting off the stool I’d only sat down on a moment ago, I turn my head, looking over my shoulder and smirking in Sienna’s direction as I go to walk away, but then I stumble. I trip over something and have to force my hands out in front of me to catch myself or otherwise plant my face on the kitchen floor.
The room goes deadly silent. Ren and Sienna must have stopped shoving one another. If I had to guess, all eyes are on me. Normally, I’d brush something like that off. Just get up and walk away without a backward glance or acknowledgement of my accident, but what the hell made me trip? I’m a professional fighter and dancer—well, pro dancer for stripping may be a stretch, but whatever.
Twisting to my side, I turn my head and peer up, my gaze connecting with a pissed-off miniature version of Sienna—Matteo’s daughter Brooklyn. If I didn’t know she already had a different mother, this kid could easily pass for Matteo and the bitch princess’s.
“You made my nana mad at my daddy!” she stammers, her arms crossed and her lips pursed. She even has Sienna’s mannerisms.
Someone grunts, but I don’t take my eyes off the five-year-old that dropped my ass faster than any opponent ever has.
“Brooklyn, come . . . aah.” My blue eyes glance over the girl’s head to see Ren yank his sister back by her ponytail. If I didn’t know he never drunk an ounce of alcohol, I’d question if he was still drank from the previous night, because even I know that was a dumb move. It’s confirmed when she goes to elbow him in the face, but at the last second, he tips his chin up and she nails him in the throat.
“God.” He chokes. “Dammit.”
“Enough!” Tony’s deep tone seems to echo through the spacious kitchen. I use the brief reprieve from my fall to climb back to my feet. “I should make all three of you get dressed and then march your asses to church so that each of you can atone for your childish behavior.” He flicks his stare to me, and I swear I see steam billowing out of his ears before his eyes track back over to his twins. “Sienna, you should have knocked your brother the fuck out. Don’t disappoint me again. Lorenzo,” he bites out, his anger rising as he lifts the cell phone clutched tight in his hand, “Sasha’s snarky tweet from last night has been retweeted almost a million times in less than twelve hours. What have I preached about staying out of the goddamn news?”
“I’m not the one that blasted the information, am I?” Ren counters, rubbing the column of his throat.
“Maybe you should have thought that one through before you said I fucking do,” Tony bellows. Ouch. That one stung. His head whips around to me. “If you weren’t my problem now, I’d send your ass back to Mischa. It’s obvious discipline wasn’t at the forefront of your adolescence.”
“Your kids may be controllable, but you’re barking up the wrong tree if you think I am, boss man.”
“It’s Antonio. I’m not your boss, and I’m not your father, Sasha. You and my son decided you’d join this family without my blessing and without my approval. A place in this family is earned. You don’t get free admission and you certainly aren’t allowed to slip in the back entrance like a thief.”
“Dad,” Lorenzo interjects.
