Revenge.
I'm familiar with it. You have to be when you're the firstborn son of a notorious mafia leader. Death and vengeance have been the very foundations of my life.
So who in their fucking mind would be stupid enough to cross me?
My brother and...
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I fucked up.
I failed to do the one thing I set out to do when I got myself into this shit-show.
It was simple—marry my enemy's daughter. Use her to get what I needed. Break the bloodline that ruined mine. And walk away unscathed.
Yet here I am fucking covered in bruises and burns because I got too close to the fire that is Mariana Ferrera. I was supposed to burn her tower down but she burned down mine. Left nothing but ruins of the man I didn't know still existed inside of me somewhere. The most unfortunate part is that I would let her do it again if she asked.
I left her in bed an hour ago having woken up first. She was encircled in my arms and looked every bit as forbidden as I knew her to be. But I let myself have a taste and now I'm addicted to her poison. So I laid there and watched her face as reality reared its ugly truth in my face.
I'm no longer capable of walking away, of leaving her like I always thought I would.
But that's not my call. If she finds out the truth she may very well leave me. I'm counting on it because she'd have to be a clinically expired brand of insane to stick around once she finds out. I could continue to hide my secrets but that's not possible. I care about her too much to keep lying to her and to keep hidden the things she deserves to know.
Soon she'll come downstairs and find me sitting on the couch, completely oblivious that I'm patiently waiting to ruin her life. For good this time.
But first, a phone call. I dial up the number and wait.
"Yeah." His response is clipped and as avoidant as he's been since yesterday.
"Brother." My jaw ticks. I always thought I had indefinite patience when it comes to Felix. It's alarming that I've discovered that's not true. "Are you ready to talk?"
"Nothing to say." He offers the same response he gave me yesterday when I asked. The asshole was hooked up to IV bags and fluids and acted as if it was completely normal. "Let's just get back on track."
"What happened?" I demand. My voice hardens in a tone I've never used with him. "Because last I checked, you are going around this city getting involved in shit you have no business touching. Let's not even mention the shitload of substances the doctor found in your bloodstream."
His heavy breathing comes on the other line and I can practically picture his nostrils flaring. "I have a life outside of my life's devotion to being your fucking sidekick. And I knew what I was doing."
"When you interfered with random gang business or when you took one too many needles to the veins?"
"Both, asshole. Maybe watch the snark."
"Maybe watch yourself," I snap. "Because you've strayed far beyond my reach, brother. Unless you tell me what the fuck is going on I have no way of pulling you back."
