Enzo
There were still a few hours until 8 PM, and I couldn't wait to hit the club with Cardo. I went inside, lost in thought.
"Enzo," Pedro called out, and I wondered if this was another attempt to keep me away from his kids. Fine by me—they were brats anyway.
"Don't spend too much time with Cardo," he whispered.
"Why not?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"He's a bad influence. And I know he took you to the beach that day," he said, and I immediately knew who had snitched. Raphael. So Cardo had been right about him all along.
"Oh, so now you're spying on me?" I asked, my voice laced with sarcasm.
"Yeah, I am. Because I care about you," Pedro said firmly.
"Whatever," I muttered, turning to walk away. But before I could leave, he grabbed my hand and stopped me.
"Enzo, I truly care about you," he repeated, his eyes searching mine.
"Is that why you sent Papa away from me?" I shot back angrily.
"That was Papa's plan, Enzo," he said softly.
"Whatever," I snapped again.
"Enzo, please," he begged, his grip on my hand tightening.
"What's wrong with you?" I asked, my voice edged with frustration. The memories came flooding back—him telling me he cared, all those empty words, and then beating the hell out of me with a belt, just like Papa. Louis was no different. Even Papa (Gerardo). They were all the same.
"Enzo, don't hate me. I'm your brother. I know I've been bad, but I love you. I care about you," he said, his voice trembling slightly.
"At least you know you're bad. You're just like Papa," I said, shrugging his hand off as I moved away from him.
It's not like I don't feel anything when they say they care about me or love me. I crave that from my family—I really do. But after all those sweet words, they still treat me like trash when they're angry. They beat me like I'm nothing. They slap me, hit me. I hate getting slapped.
I couldn't wait to get to the club, to drink until I passed out. I didn't care if Papa's enemies saw me there and shot me. I just didn't care.
—-----
Cardo and I made sure not to mention the club to anyone, especially Raphael—we already knew he was spying on us. We decided to head out after dinner, so no one would suspect a thing.
We had dinner with the others, pretending to be sleepy, and then went to bed. Since our room was on the ground floor, it was easy to sneak out through the window. We carefully climbed out without making a sound, sneaked to the garage, grabbed Cardo's vehicle, and left the house.
The security guy had no clue we were sneaking out, and since we were adults, he didn't pay much attention to us anyway. Lucky for us.
The club was alive with energy the moment we stepped inside. Neon lights flashed wildly, and the pounding bass vibrated through my entire body. The dance floor was packed, bodies swaying feverishly to the rhythmic beats.
I scanned the crowd, taking in the chaos. Girls in tight dresses moved their hips seductively, while guys watched them with shameless grins. Cardo led the way to the bar, leaning close to shout over the deafening music, "First round's on me!"
The bartenders worked at a frenzied pace, expertly mixing vibrantly colored cocktails. I watched as they effortlessly juggled bottles and shakers with flair, putting on a show for the crowd. The bar itself was sleek and modern, packed with people anxiously waiting for their drinks.
