Page 53 of Vicious Addictions

Jude continues the game, but my mind suddenly drifts to tomorrow’s challenge. And before I know it, I’m asking him another probing question about his family.

“Why do people call your mum the Red Queen?”

“What’s with the twenty questions all of a sudden?” he asks, not hiding his annoyance.

“Because that’s what we do. We play chess, and we talk,” I remind him, sounding just as annoyed with him as he is apparently with me.

I hold his gaze steadily, never wavering until he’s the first to look away in defeat.

“It’s a long story,” he finally explains.

“You’ve told me plenty of long stories before. Why is this one any different?”

“Fine,” he relents with a deep-rooted scowl. “People call her that because, back in the day, she killed her own father along with the man who tried to stage a coup against mine.”

“Really?” My eyes widen at this new piece of information. “I thought the Outfit didn’t induct women into its ranks.”

“They don’t. But my mother was raised in this life, and when the time came, she didn’t hesitate to protect her family.”

“I see.”

“My father hates the name, though,” Jude adds, albeit reluctantly. “He believes the nickname is used to diminish her, to strip away her power.”

“And what do you think?” I probe further.

“I think a title like that sends a message—that no one should fuck with my family.”

The small tug at his lips says it all.

“You’re proud of her.”

“I am,” he replies without hesitation this time. “And I always will be.”

The sad hue in his gaze has me moving the conversation away from his mother and onto what’s really on my mind.

“Does that mean you are in favor of women being inducted into the syndicates?”

“I am,” he replies flatly, leaving no room for doubt. “A woman has as much a right to beingmadeas any man. Honor, loyalty, and duty are not just concepts adhered to by the male sex. And it’s long overdue that a woman’s role in our world is recognized as more than just who she marries.”

“A conscientiousmafiosoand a feminist.” I sigh, feeling my heart swell in my chest at the conviction in his voice. “You really are different.”

His forehead creases in confusion, just like it always does when I say such things to him.

“Are we done with your little interrogation now?” He lets out a long-winded exhale.

“I think I’m satisfied for tonight,” I tease.

“Good.” He relaxes in his seat.

“Though there is still one bone I want to pick with you.”

“What now?”

“You still haven’t wished me happy birthday.”

His shy smile crests on his lips, and I all but melt in my seat.

“How about we play the rest of the game, and I give you your birthday present instead?”

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