Page 4 of Sinister

His attention turns to me, and his eyes dip to my tits before his face turns into a murderous scowl. “Why the fuck do you have Rome’s practice shirt on?” The tone of his voice chills the air.

Glancing down at the t-shirt I grabbed on the way out of my room, I notice it has Rome’s number sitting over my breasts. “What’s it to you what the fuck I choose to wear?” I bite back. I’m not going to have him ruin my mood because I’m not wearing one of my own t-shirts.

I see Rome shift uncomfortably; he’s been quieter than usual come to think of it. “I was wondering where my shirt disappeared to,” he says, trying to lighten the mood.

We’re all versed in the act of trying to dissipate Sin’s outbursts, we’ve learned the art to a fine T. But I’m not entertaining him and his shit today and I throw him the finger.

Sin’s dark eyes narrow and his thick eyebrows draw together in one of his signature glares. He returns his attention to his phone but not before shooting Rome a look I can’t decipher. End of discussion apparently but I can’t keep my mouth shut and I enjoy giving as good as I get from him.

Throwing his words back at him from before we left. “Are you jealous I’m not wearing your shirt?”

“You’re hardly worth being jealous over.” He doesn’t even look up from his screen and it irritates me more than it should.

Chaser hands me a tumbler of whiskey. “Can you two quit it for a bit? At least while we’re in confined spaces.”

“Cheers to that.” Rome clinks his tumbler with Chaser’s and they both chuckle.

Irritation festers in me. I want to knock his stupid phone out of his hands, but instead, I lean back and close my eyes for the remainder of the ride to the airport. If I can’t see him, he doesn’t exist.

Chapter four

Monroe

Monaco, the obnoxious wealth and opulence are in your face twenty-four-seven here. Papa V. owns the biggest casino on the main strip where other Mafia families and dodgy businessmen come to clean their dirty money. The luxurious casino is decorated with crystal sculptures, chandeliers, and the finest Italian leather furniture. The Vitiello’s have the three-story penthouse where we stay every time we come. Papa V. also has his superyacht moored at the marina for his convenience when needing to sail away for business trips. Even after all these years, I’m still not quite comfortable in this environment. Being adopted and not having any family makes me feel like I’m an outsider looking in on these happy families. You know those old school Christmas movies where the homeless child is looking through the window at the happy family around the tree. Exactly like that. I don’t fit in. I never have.

Mama V. has been eyeing me ever since landing, her concern never wavering. “Sweetheart, are you okay? You’ve been quiet the entire trip.” She drapes her arm around my shoulders as we head into the private entrance of the casino.

Holding on to her hand, I nod in reassurance. “Sometimes your son is an asshole,” I say truthfully.

She sighs and pulls me tighter against her. “Ignore him. Just stay away from him if you can. He’s been particularly obnoxious the last few days.”

“You don’t say.” I roll my eyes as we ascend in the elevator to the penthouse where the gold accented elevator doors open into the foyer of the extravagant penthouse suite.

The parent’s quarters consist of the entire top floor with its own private rooftop pool. The living areas are on the second floor, where there’s a cinema room, game room for the guys, and a library. Which leaves this first floor for us kids. I’m glad it’s big enough that I hardly ever run into Sin when we’re here. Rome and Chaser have always stayed with us here while their parents stay in the two floors below the penthouse. Mama V. has always watched over all us kids since we were young. She’s a saint for putting up with these guys through their teenage years and now into young adulthood. I’m surprised she hasn’t gone completely gray.

The marble floors gleam under the ambient lights and the wall to floor windows along one whole side of the floor frame the nightlife of Monaco perfectly. It’s a player’s paradise.

I walk across the floor and head straight to my room where my luggage is already placed neatly beside my king-sized bed. Eyeing the bed, I toy with the idea of climbing in and having a nap before heading out for dinner, but I decide to change out of my travel clothes first.

As I pull Rome’s t-shirt over my head, Sin’s glare flashes before my eyes. I don’t know what his issue is with me wearing Rome’s t-shirt. I throw it on the bed, along with my leggings and pull on a sundress as its balmy outside, even at this time of night.

I hear the boys arrive and their raucous laughter fills the otherwise silent first floor. As much as I love two of them to bits, I need my own space. It’s not like when we were young anymore, we’re on a different page these days. I guess I’m both excited and nervous that I’ll finally be away from the Vitiello name and be on my own on the other side of the country doing my own thing in a couple of weeks. As much as I’m going to miss the crap out of everyone, the break will be good for me.

“Monroe!” Chaser calls.

“In here.”

He appears in the doorway, leaning against the door jamb, arms crossed. “You coming to the usual welcome dinner?”

“No, I think I’ll go for a walk instead. I’m not hungry.” I dig through my bag and grab my phone out.

Chaser closes the distance between us, clearly recognizing my sour mood. He wraps his arms around me, picking me up so I’m at eye level. “Don’t listen to anything that dick says. Please come to dinner. It’s not the same without you and this could be our last family dinner together for a long time.” He pouts at me.

Gripping his shoulders, I throw my head back and groan. He knows I can’t say no to his pouty face. “Alright! I’ll go, but if Sin says one mean word to me, I’m leaving.”

With me still held tight in his grip, he carries me out to the lounge area on our floor of the penthouse. “Guys, I’ll meet you downstairs,” Chaser calls out to the closed bedroom doors before he scurries to the elevator with me still in his arms.

“You can put me down, you know.” I run my fingers through his hair and begin to twist strands to make his hair stick out in all directions.

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