All the men’s heads turned toward me, including Sergio’s. His face was a mask of complete indifference. I would have expected him to look smug, but instead, I couldn’t read him at all. Clear blue eyes blinked at me slowly. Geez, he really was attractive.
I shivered.
“What the hell!” Dante roared. “You left her alone? With that idiot?”
“Eh.” I shrugged. “Nico’s harmless.”
“I meant him.” Dante sneered in Sergio’s direction.
With a mocking smirk, Sergio said, “Why… I’d almost say you were… afraid of me.”
With a violent curse I’d never heard my brother utter — ever — he charged Sergio, only to be held back by all three of my uncles.
“Val,” Sal barked. “Leave us.”
“But—”
“Leave!” All of the men yelled in unison. All but Sergio. He gave me a brief glance and then a nod of permission.
And oddly, it was like I needed to know it was okay.
That everything would be fine.
Because when Dante had moved.
I’d seen a flash of a knife in his hand.
And it broke my heart.
What had my brother gotten into?
And were the strangers part of it?
Did this have to do with the blood on his knuckles? Had he finally taken things too far?
I left with a sinking stomach, legs heavy, I moved down the hall and walked back into the party, wondering if that was the defining moment of my life.
Where everything was about to change.
They were fighting. Hardly rare for my family.
But something about the way they all stood.
And the way Sergio’s eyes drew me in.
Something was different.
Something was changing.
Nico glanced at me from across the room, and I had a brief moment of insanity where I was tempted to flip him off then throw cake in his face.
Which wasn’t me at all.
Huh, maybe I had some of Dante’s anger after all. Maybe, somehow, I’d inherited that as well from our dead parents.
Strength.
The thought made me smile to myself.
So quick bright things come to confusion —A Midsummer Night’s Dream
Sergio
HE KNEW.
That was my first thought.
The second?
Holy shit, he was huge for a nineteen-year-old.
And finally, the third?
A horrifying lump in my throat — because he looked exactly like Luca. Hell, the bastard even stood like him. God help me if I had to kill him, because it was like I was staring into the face of one of my mentors.
Even though my emotions were going into overdrive, I kept the smirk in place, and of course didn’t hesitate to make sure Val escaped unscathed, without knowledge of the dark. I at least owed her that after treating her like complete shit. She didn’t deserve my anger.
And the last thing I wanted was for Andi to be upset with me — she did say she’d haunt me if I was an ass, and I wouldn’t put that past her.
Nobody moved as Val left the room and walked down the hall.
It was quiet, but the air was electric, like someone had just released years worth of tension in that tiny space.
I had to give it to them; the uncles had appeared feeble, until they were forced to quit the little act.
Old and senile, my ass.
They looked powerful.
And angry.
So very angry.
Well, good news, folks! I knew anger well, and I wasn’t beyond kicking some old man’s ass just because I saw him using a cane ten minutes ago. I had to be angry, to be indifferent, to get through the next few days, or, God help me, weeks, in a constant state of dark emotions, because the minute I let in the light…
It hurt.
Damn it.
Everything hurt.
Years of training with the FBI and my own crime family kicked in, I hit Dante’s forearm with my hand, the knife fell to the floor as I shoved him against the wall and pulled both hands behind his back, rendering him incapable of doing anything except giving me a backward head butt.
“Let’s speak plainly, hmm?” I slammed him against the wall harder. “I will not hesitate to end you. Really, you should take it as a compliment. I have over 40 kills to my name. I am a trained assassin. I will not hesitate. I never hesitate. You’re a damn child, a pawn in a man’s war. Pull a knife on me again in front of your sister, and I’ll use that same knife to cut out your tongue. Piece. By. Piece.”
Dante didn’t flinch, but he did smile.
And I, honest to God, wanted to slit his throat for it.
“Don’t test me.” I grunted releasing him from my grip. “I’ve killed people for less.”
His eyes finally averted as he stepped away from me, briefly touching the spot on his throat where I’d placed the blade.
It wasn’t two seconds before I felt the tip of a gun pressed against my back.
“Nobody comes into our home and threatens our blood!” I wasn’t sure which of the old men it was, but I was sure of one thing.
Frank.
He was watching.
And laughing.
What the ever loving hell?
“I really don’t want to send you into a nursing home, old man.” I shook my head. “Put the gun down.”
Frank crossed his arms and leaned casually against the wall. Should I offer popcorn? The bastard was enjoying every minute of the show!
The gun pressed harder.
“What do you think, Frank?” I nodded toward him. “Six seconds?”
He grunted. “You losing your touch?”