Page 155 of Vicious Addictions

Chapter 26

Mina

What is it withmafiososand Sunday Mass?

It boggles the mind how men who kill for a living still believe that sitting in a church pew will somehow cleanse the blood from their hands. That reciting prayers and making the sign of the cross will miraculously balance the scales between righteousness and sin. Their religious devotion has always perplexed me, especially today.

The air inside the grand St. Mary’s Cathedral is thick with incense and the faint scent of burning candles. Golden light streams through the towering stained-glass windows, casting fractured halos over polished pews and the solemn faces of the congregation. Chandeliers hang high above, swaying ever so slightly, their flickering flames reflecting off gilded arches. The heavy silence is broken only by the priest’s steady voice as he delivers a sermon on righteousness, his words echoing against the vast stone walls.

And yet, despite all this talk of virtue, everyone here will leave this church in less than an hour and return to the Romano mansion, where we will all witness an eighteen-year-old boy being sworn into a life of bloodshed, forever condemning his soul.

Come what may, Marcello will pledge his life to the Outfit today. And God will have no say in the matter.

I scan the packed pews, feeling a sharp unease settling in my gut. I have never seen a church so full ofmade menbefore. The weight of their collective presence is suffocating. If our enemies knew we were all gathered here under one roof, what would stop them from lobbing a few grenades through the stained-glass windows and reducing us all to ash?

Bugger.

I never should have accepted Vincent’s invitation to stay for this. I should have packed my bags and left for London the moment Dimitri took his last breath.

I had half a mind to do just that until Vincent convinced me to do one last favor for the Outfit.

Or maybe,just maybe,the reason you stayed was because you wanted to see Jude one last time.

I hate that the thought even crosses my mind. Hate it more that my gaze betrays me and flickers straight toward him.

Jude stands near the front, his posture rigid, his attention fixed on the priest. He looks striking in his navy blue three-piece suit with sharp lines and broad shoulders. I see the faintest hint of tension in his jaw when he disagrees with something the priest just said. His hands grip the pew in front of him, slightly flexing his fingers as if resisting the urge to scoff.

Not that I’m paying much attention to the sermon to know why Jude looks pissed.

No.

I’ve somehow reverted to being seventeen again. Going to church at the time was the highlight of my week because it meant I could steal glances at the man I love. How I loved back then, letting my mind wander where it shouldn’t, like imagining his hand gripping my throat instead of the pew, twirling me around and fucking me from behind in front of God and the rest of the world.

Nope. Not doing that.

Get it together, Mina.

You will not be daydreaming about getting railed in a church.

Have some shame, woman.

My reprimanding thoughts are abruptly disturbed by a familiar groan beside me.

“This fucking blows,” Rolo grunts under his breath, shifting in his seat like a restless child.

“No one forced you to come,” I whisper back.

“He wanted to see if some of these bastards would burst into flames the second they walked through the doors,” Remus murmurs from the other side, clearly amused with his brother’s suffering.

“It could happen,” Rolo mutters, crossing his arms.

Remus chuckles, earning a glare from Rolo, who promptly flips him the bird.

I elbow the idiots in the ribs before they do or say something that will embarrass us.

“Behave. Both of you.”

“But what if we don’t want to? I’m so fucking BOOORED,” Rolo whines dramatically, his voice carrying through the quiet sanctuary like a child mid-tantrum.

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