Page 3 of The Vendetti Soldier

“Of course you are. I won’t say a word.” He swears, and I trust him. He grabs my arm suddenly, “We have to scram; they’re sending for us.”

“Fuck.” I mutter, and we take off for the secret elevator like we’re a bunch of teenagers about to get caught stealing cigarettes. We’re grown men, for fuck’s sake, but in this instance, I don’t want to get caught eavesdropping. My stomach spirals as the lift brings us to the third floor, and we hop out, jogging to opposite hallways. I think better of it and spin around, following Santino. The last thing I want is to be cornered alone if they’re choosing to sacrifice my freedom next.

He holds the main door open to his suite for me, and we skitter inside, then immediately break out in huffed laughter. It’s been a long time since we’ve hidden and run from any of our brotherscatching us; it has me feeling young again. Not that I’m an old man or anything, but things have been tense around here lately, with the Irish stirring up trouble and Romano appearing out of the blue with a new wife. Let’s also not forget she was sporting a big, round belly with the next Vendetti heir. Meeting her was interesting, and I still find it strange there are eight of us now instead of seven. I guess Cris got his wish, and he’s no longer the youngest.

“Cazzo,” he swears, and I nod, agreeing. Fuck is right. Too much has been happening lately, and me being married off is next on the itinerary, I guess.

“I can’t believe he’s marrying one of us off. I wasn’t aware that he’s been speaking to any new potential allies.”

Santy shrugs; his shoulders are beefier than usual. He’s been hitting the weights a lot more with Dante being back around at times. I’m somewhat in shape; being a Vendetti, you have to be in our line of work, but I’m on the leaner side. Like Cristiano or Salvatore. “You know Matteo, he’s always making moves. He remains one step ahead of the famiglia at all times.”

With a grunt, I agree. He’s not lying; our brother is theplot kingwhen it comes to the mafia. He says he has to be to remain alive and protect us and his children. I don’t envy mio fratello. He has the hardest job out of all of us; his days are filled with tough decisions and stress. “Which one of us do you think is next? Me, I suppose.”

His expression grows serious. I can read it all over his face, he thinks it’s me too. “I mean, Valentino has all the baggage with that puttana from the Irish mob. I have a feeling if our fratello marries him off, he may end up killing his future moglie, and we don’t need a repeat of what happened to Cristiano or him losing it like Dante did.”

“No, definitely not. We’ve already paid the doc off enough as it is; that whole situation turned into a massive shit show. How are you doing with everything?” We were sharing Cris’ ex-wife, and for a while, I thought Santino was in love with her.

He sighs. “Fine.”

Sure.

I won’t call him on it, but I’m not dumb enough to believe he’s unbothered. Then bring in another future wife, and it has to stir up his repressed emotions. I know he has them, we all do. Salvatore is the only one out of us who wears his heart on his sleeve, and since becoming sober, even he’s locked himself up more. Being in our line of work, there’s no room for weakness. It’ll get you killed.

“If she’s mine, I’ll share her with you,” I promise, wanting to get his mind off the past.

He smirks, “Think she can handle us both? With Matteo fulfilling the tradition, you don’t have to share her with anyone else.”

“I know. What if she’s for you?”

“She’s hot. Did you see her hair? It’s so shiny… it’s like she poured gold over chocolate.”

I can’t help but chuckle at his description. He’s had a sweet tooth since we were kids, but rarely ever acted on it because of how strict our famiglia is. “But are you ready?” I pause before embellishing, “For marriage?”

“We’ve known since we were nine that we’d be married off whenever it was convenient to Romano or Matteo. The prospect now doesn’t make me feel anything, I already knew it was inevitable.”

“Cryptic, brother, you’re closing yourself off. I understand your feelings, but still, you don’t feel anything at all?”

He shrugs, not even an eye twitch breaking through his relaxed expression. Meanwhile, I’m doing everything in my power not to panic about her possibly being mine. It’s not the commitment or even the responsibility shaking me up; it’s the fact I’ll have to keep hersafe. I’ll worry about her constantly, hoping and praying I’m able to protect her from our long list of enemies. There’s also the fact I like to have my fun with different people, and that also includes having Santino in my trysts. The last thing I want is to cause her any heartache or stress over me wanting to have my fun. I’ll stop; I’m not on board with having a mistress or anything. Will I grow bored of her if I don’t love her?

Probably, but this is my life.

“You lost in your head? You’re thinking too hard,” he states, pulling me out of the spiraling turmoil I was headed down. My brother isn’t an idiot, but he’s also not overly in-depth. I don’t like stereotypes; I think they’re detrimental to society, but if we were normal people, Santino would no doubt be the jock of the famiglia, allowing everyone to do his homework while attending a university and barely skating by to graduate. I don’t say that in a negative way; it’s simply the truth. We’re all different in our own ways. Me, for example, I’m most into fashion and dressing to the nines out of mio fratelli. We’re all good-looking men, thanks to our superb genetics, but I tend to take it a step further. I’m what a lot of people refer to as metrosexual; I guess it’s why Santino and I pair up so well together when it comes to sharing women. They get the best of both worlds in a man.

My phone chimes.

Matteo:Come to my office.

Me:I’m not here.

Matteo:Where are you? Is Santino with you?

I show him the text, and after reading it, he nods.

Me:Yes, he’s with me. We went to grab a few things.

Matteo:Seriously. Are you at least in this Estate? I didn’t get an alert from the jet.

He knows I like to literally fly off and go on shopping sprees. It’s part of the way I deal with stress. He doesn’t care, as we all have our different vices.

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