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My father has the same smooth voice as Nico, Lucca, and me, but the bit to it is far deeper than even my older brother can manage. He knows how to insult me without even trying.
I stay silent, knowing full-well it’s better to let my father say whatever it is he needs to say. Defending myself or trying to explain will only lead to a longer lecture and provoke further anger.
“You initiated a conflict with one of the most prominent Bratva families in New York. The Veles have respected our family’s territory up to this point. If that changes, I assure you the responsibility will fall squarely on your shoulders. What were you even doing with the Popov girl anyway, when I told you to stay away from her?” he demands.
My stomach knots as he cuts right to the chase. I’ve considered exactly what I would say when he asked me about Bianka. I came to the conclusion that keeping it basic was the best choice. “I–”
“You know what? I don’t have the patience to listen to you today. I don’t care why she was there with you or what you were doing getting caught up in Bratva business. What I do care about is that you hear me loud and clear, Cassio Marchetti. You will stay away from her. And if you put another toe out of line, you’ll be out on the street before you can even ask why. I’m at my wit’s end with you. You’re nothing but a black eye on this family.”
I grind my teeth, forcing myself to stay quiet. I know that’s what my father expects of me, and I’m sure anything I might say would either be sarcastic or snarky. The fact is that he didn’t inform me he would be kicking Bianka out of Rosehill, which had been my biggest concern for our discussion today.
Still, I can tell my father is far from done. He rises slowly from his chair, planting his palms on his desk as he leans toward me menacingly. “You should feel lucky that Nicolo has a soft spot for you because I would have left you in New York to die if I’d known about it.”
I already knew that when I found myself in the situation. Still, it smarts to actually hear my father say it.
“Normally, I stand by the opinion that anything of our family is off-limits. It doesn’t matter how small or insignificant the thing is. If someone tries to take what belongs to me, I will make them pay. It’s the principle of the matter. Protecting what’s yours is a sign of strength.”
He snorts as his eyes scan me disgustedly. “But for you, I might make an exception. If the Veles threatened to send you back to me in pieces, I might thank them for taking you off my hands. I’d have let them do as they pleased with you.”
I keep my face expressionless as I hide my balled fists in my pockets, unwilling to show my father that his spiteful words get under my skin.
“I suppose I might have to keep a closer eye on what Nicolo’s doing with our men from now on,” Father continues thoughtfully, his eyebrows curving into a frown. “I can usually trust his good sense when it comes to these things, but he has a soft spot for his siblings that I need to deal with if he’s going to succeed me.”
My lips press into a thin line as guilt sinks like molten lead in my belly. I hate that my actions might hurt Nico in any way. My brother put a lot on the line for me, and he won’t be happy that Father’s going to hold it against him.
“At least one of my sons knows how to make me proud by showingstrength. I have to commend him for upholding the belief that no one takes what’s ours–even if I might disagree with his decision in this instance. And from the sounds of it, he left enough casualties that the Veles won’t likely dare exacerbate the confrontation with our family.”
The tension in my shoulders eases ever so slightly. It doesn’t sound like our father will take out too much anger on Nico, at least. The truth is that Nico has always been a driven leader, someone who naturally wields his power in an unquestioning way. He hasn’t flinched from the weight of following in my father’s footsteps, and I can be grateful for that because he has left me free to be who I want to be.
While I might have saved Bianka’s life and done my best to protect Ellie, Nico is the one who proved our family’s strength in New York. Even if I hate what our family represents, the things we’re capable of, I respect my brother and appreciate him for using his influence to help me.
“Yes, your brother at least knows how to be a man,” my father continues snidely. “How to uphold the family name. He doesn’t get himself captured and beaten to a bloody pulp likeyou.”
I don’t bother defending myself or explaining that it’s pretty hard to avoid getting captured when you’re outnumbered ten to one and trying to protect a defenseless girl at the same time. None of that matters to my father.
“You’re a pathetic excuse for a Marchetti, unworthy of the name. I have half a mind to disown you now, before you can bring any further shame to this family,” he hisses.
The threat lingers in the air as my father falls silent, seeming to be done with his tirade–or at least finished momentarily. I remain sullen and rigidly still, used to my father’s spiteful words and determined not to let them bother me.
“God, but I can barely stand the sight of you. Get out. And don’t bother coming to dinner tonight. You’ll only ruin my supper.” My father waves me away and then turns his back pointedly, his indisputable confirmation that I’m beyond disdain.
That’s fine with me. I’d far rather find a way to spend my time with Bianka. Stepping out into the hall, I close the door securely behind me and turn to find Lucca watching me.
“Guess you’re off the hook for dinner, eh?” he jokes lightly, her lips tipping into a crooked smile.
I chuckle quietly and shrug. “Can’t say it feels too much like a punishment, honestly.”
“Can I walk you out?” he asks.
“Of course.”
He turns to match my stride as we make our way down the hall, and it’s nice to know that at leastoneperson in my family isn’t completely disgusted by the sight of me currently. It’s always been like that, me and Lucca against the world. We can joke around and roughhouse all we want, but when push comes to shove, I know I’ll always have Lucca in my corner.
“Listen, Cass,” Lucca says quietly as we reach the end of the hallway and turn into the foyer. His hand rests on my shoulder, and he stops me as he turns to face me.
“What’s up?” I ask, surprised to find the deep emotion etched across his face.
“I just… never got a chance to properly thank you. For saving Ellie.”
