Page 26 of Vicious Addictions

“I think you want something so badly that you haven’t stopped to consider the consequences. Just don’t ruin every good relationship you have in pursuit of something as fragile as destiny,” she says quietly. “No one’s fate is written in stone.”

“Mine is,” I state steadfastly.

“That’s where you and I differ. I refuse to believe that. Because if I did, then that would mean my fate is already sealed too. I’d have to accept that in the not-so-distant future, I’ll be married to somecapojust because my father needs a man to sit on his throne.”

Silence stretches between us as I let her words sink in.

While I would do anything to live up to my birthright, Mina needs to fight tooth and nail to escape hers.

“Checkmate.”

I blink once, then twice, staring at the board in amazement. While I was lost in thought about the clusterfuck that is both my life and hers, Mina remained focused, strategizing her way to win the game.

“And that, my friend, is what we callThe Italian Attack.” Mina grins from ear to ear as she leans back in her seat, looking victorious. “Let this be a lesson. Never take your eyes off the queen. You never know what she is up to until it’s too late.”

Noted.

Never underestimate the queen… or Mina Crane.

Chapter 4

Mina

Seventeen Years Old

I stand behind the pew, barely listening as Father O’Toole delivers his sermon. Jude, on the other hand, is completely focused—his head slightly bowed, his expression somber. He takes church far too seriously, which is ironic considering the life he’s chosen.

Me? I’m here for him.

It’s been a year since Jude arrived at my doorstep, and in that time, he’s become a constant in my life. So much so that I make sure that all my weekends are reserved for him. Whatever tickles his fancy, I’m there for it. Even if it means sitting through Sunday mass, pretending to care about words that don’t mean much to me.

But while Jude is focused on his faith, I’m focused on something entirely different.

His lips.

His hands.

The way his long brown hair falls just inches away from his eyes, the slight crook of his smile, and—dear God Almighty—don’t even get me started on that smolder. That damn smolder gets me weak in the knees every time.

Not exactly the holiest of thoughts, but I can’t help myself.

And if Jude had even the slightest clue that I was sitting here, fantasizing about his hands on me, his mouth on mine—he’d run in the opposite direction.

And fast.

To my chagrin, I’ve been friend-zoned.

My fault, really.

Early on, I told him that I was willing to be his friend as long as he would open up to me. That true friendship was give and take. And though it took some time, we eventually reached a place where we both felt safe enough to share our thoughts, dreams, and frustrations with each other.

I’ve become his closest confidante.

I know him as well as I know myself.

And it’s because of that, I can tell that lately… he’s getting restless.

My father still has him doing grunt work. While Jude wouldn’t normally complain, the fact that my cousins, Rolo and Remus, were recently inducted into the Firm has him more on edge than usual. He feels like it’s Chicago all over again—him watching from the sidelines while everyone else takes the steps he’s so desperate to make.

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