Page 190 of Vicious Addictions

“Is that fucking understood?!” I hear my father belt out, bringing me back to the nightmare at hand. Every head at this table, if not bowed in fear, has their eyes reluctantly fixed on their boss. They all have blood rushing from their faces, leaving them pale and eerily gaunt. “I said, isthatFUCKING understood?!” he roars again, slamming his fists on the table with such force that I fear another punch will surely break the massive wooden top in half.

“Yes, Boss,” mumble the men who still have enough nerve to give my father an answer, while the others are too terrified to even open their mouths in reply.

“Well then, get the fuck out of my sight and bring me something I can work with!”

With that final holler, everycapoin the room struggles to rush out the door with their tails in between their legs and their lips sealed shut. If I could, I’d laugh at the sight of witnessing such big, badmafiosihaving their asses handed to them, as most of these men are used to striking fear in the hearts of the damned, not the other way around. But all good humor has been stolen from me. Not even watching them scurry out of the room like errant children can bring me any joy.

When the door closes behind the lastcapo, only my family remains, rooted to their spot in the spacious meeting room in the old Salvatore Romano mansion. A long stretch of silence ensues, and like me, each of my siblings become even more anxious waiting for ourCapo dei Capito say something. It’s only when I hear the door creak open, and my mother walks inside, that I understand we were just waiting for his Red Queen to arrive, so our father could pass his judgment on all of us.

The knot in my throat tightens as I watch my beautiful mother looking half the woman I know her to be. Her once stunningly piercing green eyes look vacant and dead as she walks over to her three men and sits in my father’s chair at the head of the table without uttering a single word to the rest of us.

Dom looks as if his heart, already being twisted and abused inside his chest, just took another punch as he silently takes the seat beside her. Gio follows suit and takes his own respective seat on the other side of the table. He then grabs my mother’s trembling hand on top of her lap to offer her some small solace, while trying hard to hide the fact that he is inches away from his own breaking point.

Only my father remains standing behind her seated form, never once looking at my mother’s distraught face, and I can understand why. The moment he does, the little display of brutality he just showed his men will look like child’s play compared to what will come out once he sees the pain dwelling in the eyes of the woman he loves above all.

I know from experience that, when it comes to Selene Bianchi Romano, there is no one who can affect him more with just one look. My mother will always be the only person who can bring out the best in him, as well as the worst. With a firm, white-knuckle grip on the top of her chair, he finally directs his attention to all of us—his children, except the one who means most right now.

“When you were smaller, I imagined a day like this. It was a constant horror that I tried to keep at the back of my mind. I’ve done everything in my power for it not to swallow me whole while taking precautions for this nightmare never to arrive on my doorstep. But as you all grew, that nagging panic became less of a constant howl in my head, and more like an irrational whisper from my subconscious that I gladly ignored,” he scoffs out, his upper lip snarling in disgust with himself for being so naive. “Overconfidence and complacency have played me for a fool—a mistake that is now costing me, and you, dearly,” he mumbles under his breath, placing his hands on my mother’s shoulders. I watch as she covers one of his hands with her own, making my father shut his eyes in shame. “I’m so sorry,tesoro.I failed you,” he softly whispers.

A lonesome tear streaks down my mother’s anguished face as she squeezes his hand with all the might she still has left inside of her. After a silent conversation with one another, he raises his head to face us again, pain and anger tainting his every feature.

“If there is a lesson to be learned from this, it’s that even the most improbable threat is still very much a danger and not one to be so easily disregarded. One thing this sordid ordeal has made me realize is that, in our world, there will always be arrogant, evil men who will view my children as targets, and use them to weaken me.”

The seconds tick jarringly by as he fixes his stare on each of us, one by one.

“Tell me, are they right? Are my enemies correct in thinking that my children are weak enough to exploit? To bruise and break? To steal away from me?”

“No, they’re not,” I reply sternly, my hands fisting at my sides at the provocation.

“Is that so?” my father questions with his brow cocked up high, clearly disagreeing with my statement. “Because when I look around this room, I can pinpoint each one of your faults and frailties in seconds,” he reprimands, snapping his fingers.

“That’s because you know us,” Lucky chimes in, rolling his eyes.

“And you think my enemies don’t?!” our father shouts back at him. “You think they didn’t do their homework to know you inside and out? That this wasn’t planned with the utmost care? Are you as much of a fool as I am, boy?!”

Lucky opens his mouth to retaliate, but Enzo shuts him up before his twin finds himself in even hotter water.

“That’s not what Lucky meant, Boss. Everyone knows this could only have happened with months of preparation and elaborate intel. Maybe even years. Whoever is at fault took their time. They meticulously knewwhenandwhoto attack, so it could only have happened by doing extensive research and shadowing all of us. It’s what we would have done if the roles were reversed.”

A loud sneer rips through my father’s throat, making an icy chill run down my back.

“Whatyouwould have done? I’m not sure if I should laugh or weep at that unjustified allegation,” my father replies, running his hands through his hair and pulling at the strands.

“Father.” I hear myself interject, hating how he’s going after the twins so mercilessly, driven by his pain.

“No!” He snaps his head to me and continues, “In this room, I am not your father, Jude, I am your boss! It will pay you well to remember it, especially today!”

I grind my back molars together just to keep myself from hurling my own bitter remark back at him, but in the end, it’s love, loyalty and respect that has me bending to his will.

“It’s this arrogance of thinking we are untouchable that has landed us in this nightmare. I will not suffer through it any longer. If my enemies think my children are thisfamiglia’sweak spot, then by God, I’m going to show them how wrong they are. You will be the very weapons I will use to bring them down,” he seethes out and then turns his sight to Lucky and Enzo again, pointing the finger at them both as he slays each twin with his words.

“You want me to take you seriously? Then use the assets you were born with to find your sister instead of wasting them on your childish pranks and ludicrous ploys. It’s time for both of you to grow up and finally become the men you swear to already be.”

“Yes, Boss,” both reply in unison, squaring their shoulders to deflect the slap in the face they just received.

When my father switches his attention to the brother sitting at the twins’ side, I forget to breathe. The small chill that had been running down my body spikes, leaving me in nothing but harsh, cold sweats as I watch father and son stare furiously into each other’s eyes.

“And you,” he points to Marcello. “You want my love? My approval? My respect? Then get me the names of all involved. Not only the ones responsible for kidnapping your sister but also the ones who enabled the whole thing. I want everyone, Marcello. Every rotten soul. Is that clear?”

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