Page 9 of Sins and Secrets

“Angie's calling in all her favors today,” I grumble.

It's not that I don't like Kyle. He’s a decent guy. He's perfect for my half sister, having been in love with her since college. He's also great about making sure Angie gets the spotlight she deserves.

“I'll get right to the point, otherwise I won't be able to focus on anything else.”

“Not even theKnights of the Nightmid-season finale?” Darren says, reaching for his beer.

Kyle shakes his head like it might fall off. “No. Got to do this now.” He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. When he opens them, his intent is clear. “Your mom wants one of her sons to be a groomsman.”

“Why?”

“It’ll even out the photos.” He waves his hand like the reason doesn't matter. “Whatever. If it makes Angie happy, I don't care.” He clears his throat and stands, then blows out a loud breath before making entirely too-direct eye contact with me. People a few tables over are staring “So will you stand as a groomsman?”

I glance over to Darren who’s watching me, his lips curling into a wicked grin. He knows something.

“Why not Adam?” He’s the logical choice. After all, Adam’s the golden boy. He's Angie's twin. Plus, he didn’t live on the other side of the country for ten months a year.

When Kyle hears Adam’s name, he closes his eyes for a minute and tries to shake the tension out of his shoulders. He’s clenching and unclenching his fists on repeat, and I’m waiting to see who he’s about to punch. I’ve never seen him wound up before.

“I fucking hate Adam,” he finally grits out through his teeth.

Oh. Kyle just got a billion times cooler. Darren kicks me under the table, wiggling his eyebrows.

“He's boring and rude and walks around like he's better than everyone else, because he's woefully unaware of the stench of evil he wafts.”

Yes. I agree with all of these statements.

Kyle scrubs his face and concludes his assessment with, “I hate Adam as much as I love Angie. He gaslights every woman in his life. He’s bullshit and lies.”

“Well, when you say things like that, it's hard to say no. What do I need to do?”

Darren shakes his head. “Come to the rehearsal and the wedding.”

Well, I had to go anyway. I already had to cancel an appointment with a client to attend this stupid wedding. The real bonus is that it will drive Adam nuts because he wasn't picked. “Sure, I’m in.”

Darren exhales. “Praise Jesus. I was already getting panic attacks about having to eat with him.” And when I think the conversation is over, he adds, “Sucks for Waverly, though.”

My stomach knots. How could he possibly know about Waverly? “What do you mean?”

Now they both look at me like I'm crazy. “She's been dating Adam for the last three years.”

They continue to talk, but none of their words are making it to my brain. Only rage and confusion. I thought Waverly couldn't hurt me any more than she already has.

Turns out she's fucking my brother.

ChapterFour

Waverly

My father isone-fourth of a crime syndicate superpower called the Four Families—four different mob organizations tied together by a shared history and tricky grandmothers. While my grandma did speak English, her accent was so strong, most Americans only caught every eighth word. The other grandmothers—Russian, Italian, and Mexican—all convinced their families they didn't speak English at all... for fifty years. By then, their sons were running the business and the grandmothers were pushed out.

When the first grandmother died, they revealed their secret, linking the families even more. Our dads’ street cred would vanish if the other crime organizations found out they were all pranked by their moms for a half-century.

My father’s hold is the most tenuous. While the other three sons were placed in control by birthright, my father married into the mafia. My mom was the crime leader, and together they made a power couple. Then Mom died. It wasn't cancer, something we could've prepared for, a car accident, or some sort of violent mob hit. Mom was killed by a blood clot.

The Grandmas swept in and took care of us, and everything changed. It felt like the whole family got together in a big conference room and came to a collective decision: Waverly must never be included.

Sure, I was welcome at all the dinners, parties, and social stuff. The kids were always nice. But they would stop talking when I walked in. My presence hung around like over-cooked brussel sprouts.

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