Page 156 of Vicious Addictions

If I didn’t love him so much, I’d smother him with a pillow in his sleep.

A wave of uneasy silence washes over the congregation. The priest has stopped talking, his gaze now fixed on Rolo, disapproval radiating from his stern features.

Clearing his throat, he resumes, his voice laced with pointed warning. “As I was saying before being so rudely interrupted, the act of contrition is the closest any of us will come to feeling the presence of God. Those who do not repent for their sins and crimes will live a life absent of His love. And a soul without God’s light is reduced to its most primal, savage state—a heathen. A devil among men.”

Remus leans behind me toward Rolo, smirking. “I think the wanker’s talking about you, dear brother. Should we show the cunt just how savage we Cranes can be?”

“Don’t—”

But before I can stop them, Remus and Rolo turn on their heels, drop their trousers in the middle of the congregation, and slap their barearsesat the priest.

“Eat me,Padre!” Rolo bellows, grinning like the devil himself.

Chaos erupts. Gasps. Mutters.

I think I even hear someone let out a horrified ‘Madonna mia!’as the scandalized whispers ripple through the pews.

I bury my face in my hands, half mortified, half struggling to suppress the laughter bubbling in my throat.

When I dare to glance up, I meet Jude’s gaze across the church. I half expect to see annoyance or exasperation at the very least. Instead, his hazel eyes gleam with amusement as he lifts a hand to his mouth, feigning a cough when, in reality, he’s stifling a chuckle, which only makes it harder for me to keep a straight face.

Before I know it, I’m smiling at him… genuinely smiling and giggling at him.

Jude’s eyes soften as he lowers his hand from his mouth, uncaring who sees his quiet chuckle melting into mine.

And for that fleeting moment, I forget why I ever hated him, preferring to only remember why I fell in love with him in the first place.

A few hours later, the Romano mansion is filled to the brim with mafia-affiliated men and their families. The living room buzzes with lively conversation, everyone seemingly animated to have been invited to today’s big event. But through all their smiles and boisterous laughs, I’m sure I’m not the only one who feels the undercurrent of unexpressed tension lingering in the air, hinting at the weight of unspoken expectations.

The catering staff weaves through the crowd, balancing trays of mimosas, espresso, and an assortment of brunch delicacies—freshly baked pastries, smoked salmon canapés, and delightful frittatas. The scent of coffee and warm brioche lingers in the air, mixing with the sharper undertones of expensive cologne and burning cigars.

While everyone mingles, I stand at the sidelines, my gaze flickering to the archway living room entrance whenever someone walks through it.

Still no sign of the Donatos.

Though I didn’t know of their existence until a few days ago, I’ve tried to remedy that fact and do my homework. The twins were also extremely helpful in obtaining more information about why Vincent Romano seems to have such triggering animosity about the name.

From what I could gather, Vincent came dangerously close to losing his entire empire almost twenty years ago. I heard the tales of why people whispered in the shadows the name Red Queen behind his wife’s back, but I never had the full story of how that came to be. Just that she killed her traitorous father and Vincent’s cousin when they both tried to raise an insurrection against him and tried to steal Vincent’s rightful role as boss.

Apparently, they had some help that encouraged their efforts.

Not only did Ciro, Vincent’s cousin, aim to steal his wife and throne, but he also managed to turn one of the Outfit’s greatest rivals, theCosa Nostra, into allies. Allies that would back his claim as the legitimate Romano heir andCapo dei Capi.

Of course, that never came to pass—thanks to Selene’s role in this major clusterfuck—and theCosa Nostrawas left with egg on their face for backing the wrong horse.

If I were in Vincent’s shoes, I would have scorched the earth of every last Donato at the time, even if that meant starting a new war between the twofamiglias.

However, Vincent chose to take a different route.

Perhaps after the attempted coup, he had grown weary of bloodshed, or maybe he thought peace would be a better option because he had histesouroback in his life, as well as the son he never knew he had.

Whatever his reasoning, instead of unleashing his full wrath on theCosa Nostra, he sat down with the Donatofamigliaand made them an offer. He would not retaliate against them if they pledged their allegiance to the Outfit as they had been so eager to do if Ciro had succeeded in becoming king. All the Donatos heard was bend the knee or die. It’s no wonder that they chose the former.

So even when Vincent’s fealty treaty meant that theCosa Nostrawas forced to abdicate parts of New York to the Irish mob, just so they could keep a vigilant eye on the Donatos, they reluctantly abided his terms, fearing themselves outnumbered thanks to Ciro and his schemes. And now that the Donatos are being exposed for secretly working with the Bratva’s underboss behind Vincent’s back, I can only imagine the chaos that will erupt if they dare to show their faces today.

Not that they know what awaits them.

As far as they are concerned, they have just been cordially invited to attend a ceremony that has been closed off to outsiders since the dawn of time.

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