Page 63 of Divine Obsession

Antonio – Francesca and Gìovanni’s younger brother – was always getting into something. Lately, that something had escalated from sneaking out and eating too much candy, to sneaking into nightclubs while underage and taking party drugs.

Drugs were a taboo subject in the Mafia – especially Cosa Nostra. While my father and his crew, along with the other smaller families refused to even touch them, the DeMones dealt it.A lot.

Enzo DeMone, Francesca’s father, had very clear rules forbidding anyone in the Cosa Nostra or associated with it to take drugs.

Enzo had a similar saying to Scarface’s ‘Don’t get high on your own supply.’ Don’t get high. Period.

And if you did… There would be very unpleasant consequences.

Not even Zach or his brother, who were Cosa Nostra’s main suppliers, took drugs. And they were the biggest narcotics traffickers in the Western Hemisphere.

There was a basic rule in the underworld that I was starting to understand.

You couldn’t trust addicts. They would be the first to stab you in the back or rat you out for some baggy of pills.

Drugs were for those on the bottom.

No one that had real power did it.

Product was for the clients.

Wall Street guys that slaved away at their job only to spend it all on cocaine. Big-shot lawyers who needed energy to power through their thousands of cases. Low lives that did nothing except get high twenty-four-seven.

Antonio, however… He was running away from something.

It was an escape. From what, I couldn’t imagine.

The same look in his eyes, I’d seen in Manny’s. My little brother.

And it scared me, not knowing what either of them was dealing with, and how they might end up.

Francesca narrowed her eyes as she glanced through the crowd. “Apparently, he’s at this party.”

“Iamat this party.” Some drunk guy pushed between us, attempting to throw his arms around both mine and Francesca’s shoulders, but failing when we immediately stepped back.

Ew. Definitely not Tony.

“You ladies asking about me?” The man shifted towards Francesca, his eyes roaming over her bold, red lips.

“One more step, I’ll bury you alive.” She spoke low – like a true Don – her gun digging into the guy’s stomach.

Goosebumps formed over my arms and I was glad for the long-sleeved top hiding it. While I was new to this whole mob scene, Francesca was born and raised in it. I would’ve put my hand in fire, this wouldn’t have been the first life she took.

“Okay, okay. Backing off.” The drunk stepped away from her but turned to me. “What about you? Interested?”

I forced myself to not back away. I mustered every ounce of strength and cut-throat attitude I’d gotten from Maria over the years. “Get the fuck outta here before she blows your brains out.”

Not even a second later, the guy was backing away, tripping on his own feet.

“Badass, Moretti.” Francesca smiled, looking almost proud. She knew all of this was new to me.

“My first death threat.”

She gasped, leaning in so only I could hear. “Did I just pop your cherry?”

We both started laughing, Francesca hitting my arm while struggling for air.

“Bold move. Hope you can back it up.” The deep voice froze me to my core. His sardonic reply in regards to my threat iced my blood.

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