Page 73 of Promise to Break

"What aren't you telling me, figlio mio? I'll help you. Just tell me." And there she is, the woman who knows the real world. The one who calls me her son. I wonder how she can be proud of two monsters, like Santino and me.

"Dad ordered me to break her."

Chapter twenty-eight

Killian

twenty-seven months ago

It was twenty-seven months ago–on the very evening of Maricela's arrival into our lives, and to say that Franco Fierro was pissed at me that evening is an understatement.

I could mention that it was his fault Oliguria couldn't wait one more day before taking her last breath. And not because I'm afraid of the man whose sperm brought me into existence. No. It's because, for once, I didn't mind this mission. The blood on my hands doesn't worry me on most days, and on some, I can say with certainty that I did a good thing by getting rid of a pest on this earth. Oliguria was a nuisance to her kids, to her mother, and most importantly, to the girls she managed. She was one of the madams my father liked to keep a thumb on. I didn't even ask why he sent me to kill her. Acting upon the orders my sperm donor gave me, I knew her mother and kids would benefit without her. I know because an eleven-year-old girl asked me to do it slowly. She was a bitch. A terrorist. And now she isn't anymore.

"How could you disrespect me like that? And in front of those girls?" Oh, yes. The girls. My father would have been mad if I had come in that way or spoken as I did in front of his dodgy business partners, but he would have said that he's proud of how strong-minded I am. Then they would laugh. He would laugh, and I would get my punishment later, or maybe in front of them. However, the people in front of me that evening were women, one of whom was going to be my brother's wife, no less.

Santino hadn't divulged much about his bride-to-be, and I hadn't taken the time to ask. Our relationship consisted then and still does of the acts of violence he likes to inflict on me at the orders of our father. Thus, anger simmered in my veins the moment the girl with the biggest eyes I'd ever seen looked at me, first with curiosity and a hint of attraction, then with defiance. How dare he take a teenage girl as his wife? She can't be older than eighteen. And she…? Doesn't she understand that she came into a den of vipers willingly?

I wasn't nice about it, and then she spoke back. It made me want things, things I'd repressed until that moment. I'm all about repressing my urges. Don't kill your brother, because Mom will be sad. Don't kill or touch Franco—yet—because la famila will kill you. Don't send your fiancée to the pits of hell because it will bite you in the ass. Repression is an art that I excel at. Or at least I did until her.

I was mad. She's a child. My age, maybe younger. What was she doing sitting near Franco like that? I didn't even notice her sister because, at that moment, no one could be more alluring to me than that fucking girl with the enormous eyes.

And then she made a mistake, a mistake that I'll pay for. She sassed me, bringing the real victim of Santino into view. The woman beside her was her sister, without a doubt, but looking at them was like seeing God had created an angel and a succubus as relatives. And I wanted to let her suck out my soul through my cock.

Not responding to Franco did me no favors that night. "Aren't you going to speak for yourself?" As if it would help me. I knew he would punish me no matter what, so why do or say anything for myself? He knew it. I knew it. Oh well, a reason for a new tattoo it is, I thought to myself.

"Fine then. You know where to go." The basement. His favorite place for his torture. I walked out of the office just to hear her voice. The succubus. She was a small thing, a tiny little thing that I wanted to break with my cock.

"Maricela, you are so funny, child," my mother said to the little thing. I glanced into the dining room to see Maricela twisting a lock of her luscious hair. I wondered if it was a habit of hers and decided that it was. This girl didn't even try to make an effort to impress us. It's like our power doesn't interest her in the slightest.

"May I ask something?" Politeness. It doesn't suit her.

"Little princess, I told you, this is your house now, too. Ask away." Santino hugged his future wife's waist as he looked at the nervous girl in front of him. I wondered then if he had fucked her as well. I would have if I were him.

"Thank you for standing up for me earlier."

"It's nothing. My brother can be rude for no reason. He's a good kid. It's just that he's too sheltered. Franco has been too protective of him."

I remember thinking, gag me now, please. Even my mother had looked appalled by those words. But the little thing didn't look at my mom. Not then. No, she was looking at the Oscar wanna-be actor, eating every word.

"It's a lot, but I don't want to talk about him," Maricela had replied. A shame because I wanted then and still want to talk between her legs and inside her while she strangles me with her body. "I want to ask about the college you mentioned. I don't think I would be suited for that establishment. It's outside my lane. I haven't been a great student."

"No worries. You have the summer to get caught up. I've already taken care of everything. You'll study with a tutor this summer, and by the time the new semester starts, you'll know all that is needed."

"But I can't pay for it." I laugh at the memory. I thought, is she for real? What is this? I thought it must be a game to see who would win the best person award, and she was definitely winning, if that was the case.

"You don't have to worry about money," my Oscar-winning brother told her.

"I do," Maricela argued. "Serena will be your wife, not me. I have to worry about money, and I'll work for it. I'm a good cook, and I could help around the house. If you insist, I attend that school, I'm sure they'll have some jobs available for me as well. I can do anything, really."

I can usually detect lies, especially lies like those. People who try not to look too keen or interested in money start to speak about how they don't deserve it, but they never offer to work for the chance that someone would grant their unwanted wish.

Santino had sighed and, like the good husband-to-be, pretended to relent. "I know you won't leave it alone, so I'll see what I can do. How about you make us your cookies in the kitchen for starters, and I'll think about a job for you. Will that make you feel any better?"

"Thank you, Santino. I won't be a bother. I promise."

"I know you won't."

They went on to speak about the wedding until Santino took them home like the gentleman they still think he is. I hadn't moved from my spot, knowing that if I did, they would see me. That she would see me. But she passed by where I stood as they made their way out, and that's when I first saw them. Her eyes. They were an intoxicating mix of green and blue and staring right at me. Challenging me. The moment seemed to drag on for an eternity. Until…

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