Page 105 of Vicious Addictions

“Grazie, fratello,”she says,bowing her head to conceal her cheeks turning pink in embarrassment.

If my brother Marcello dislikes being in the limelight, then Annamaria absolutely despises it. They both breathe easier when someone else takes center stage, neither wanting to be the star of the show. I suppose it’s all by celestial design that they’re built that way, especially with few loud egos sitting at this very table, who not only welcome the attention but thrive on it. The twins come to mind, as does my rebellious sister, Stella.

After wishing a happy birthday to my baby sister, I move to the vacant seat next to my father, knowing he had saved it on purpose.

Now that everyone is fully seated, the staff emerges from the shadows to fill the table with Annamaria’s favorite dishes.

“I heard that you ran into some difficulty with our Russian friend this afternoon,” my father says discreetly, ensuring that neither the waiting staff nor the rest of my siblings are listening.

“It won’t happen again,” I retort, since those are the only words my father will accept when faced with failure.

“Did you thank your younger brother for doing your job, or will I have to?” When my lips thin and I stare straight ahead into the distance, he lets out a long-winded exhale. “I didn’t think so.” He flips his napkin open before carefully placing it over his lap. “You’ve nagged me constantly to give you more responsibility, and yet even after I’ve made you my underboss, you keep disappointing me at every turn.”

My molars grind so tightly that I fear I’ll pop a tooth if I don’t ease up. And still, I know that when the boss talks, all I can do is listen.

“I’ve made up my mind,” he says poignantly.

“About?”

“At the end of the month, I’ll bring Marcello into the fold and induct him into the Outfit.”

“Is that what he wants?” I ask, amazed that he is actually considering such a thing.

“You tell me? Did your brother not look the part this afternoon?” my father counters knowingly.

It’s true. At his age, I was a terrified little shit who would cry for days after my first kill. But not Marcello. He was born for this life.

When he’s on a job, he transforms into someone else entirely—cold, calculating, devoid of emotion. He becomes a soulless machine with a singular purpose—to kill, kill, kill.

What scares me most isn’t his brutality. It’s the fear that if that switch stays flipped for too long, the sensitive, shy brother I’ve always known will be lost forever, swallowed whole by the monster lurking inside him.

I then gaze at my mother sitting beside Marcello, the two cheerfully laughing at something they said.

“Have you told Mom yet? Does she know what you are planning to do?”

This is when the boss leaves the room, and the devoted husband and father enters.

“No, not yet. Truth be told, I’ve been trying to avoid the conversation.”

“She won’t like it.”

“No, no, she will not.” He places a fatherly hand on my shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. “She feared this day would come when I finally relented in inducting you to the syndicate. To see her children in this life is Selene’s worst nightmare come true.” He lets out a sigh. “But we both opened that door together and now neither one of us will ever be able to close it.”

“He’s her favorite, Dad,” I try to bargain with him.

“And people say that you are mine.” His gaze softens in my direction. “One day, you’ll see that a parent loves his children unconditionally and exactly the same. It will hurt me just as it will hurt her. Maybe more.”

His gaze then flickers to a smiling Marcello, anguish and a whole lot of guilt embedded in his eyes.

“Have you told him? Have you told Marcello? Have you asked him if he even wants this?” I plea on behalf of my brother.

My father then lowers his head, incapable of meeting my eyes, and replies, “Your brother asked for this life when he was barely ten,” stunning me silently with his words.

My mind struggles to piece together what was happening in Marcello’s life at the time, but then it hits me that I was already in London. That’s when he started to change. He grew distant…quieter, slipping further into his darker self.

My soul is already painted black, polluted by the weight of guilt and regret. Not being there for Marcello when he needed me most will always be the deepest, most indelible stain that no amount of time will ever wash clean.

“Dad, he’s just a kid.”

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