Page 5 of Brutal King

“I’ve been calling for fifteen minutes.”

“I thought I was allowed to take the classes I actually want to on my own time. So that’s what I’m doing. Something I’m sure you’re aware of since you’re watching everything I do.” I scan the room, searching for any suspicious person. A student that doesn’t belong, perhaps. Or maybe even Victor lurking behind a desk.

“I’m not watching you the way I should be,” he says with a huge dose of regret. “And I don’t have a problem with your pastime, Sofe.”

I grind my teeth to keep myself from barking at him that the fact that he considers my passion a pastimeisthe problem.

“This isn’t a hobby for me, Luca. I’m serious about a career in?—”

“When I call, you answer. Understand?”

Letting out a breath in hopes of calming my ever-increasing anger, I say, “Yes, sir.”

He lets out a breath too, and when he speaks again, his tone is softer. “Sofe, we have an enemy like we’ve never had before. One I have no idea how to protect you from.”

“I don’t need protecting. I can take care of myself.”

“Not from this. So when I call and you don’t pick up and I don’t have eyes on you, I begin to imagine you dead in some fucking ditch. Or worse, gutted in a dirty hotel room.” There’s so much pain in his voice, it makes me regret not having answered him.

Tony’s death was hard on both Luca and me. Even though our older brother was the one Pops groomed to take over as Godfather of the Sinacores, he never achieved that level of ruthlessness our father had. He was gentle and caring. It was in his DNA, and it could not be changed.

God, I loved him so much that sometimes I forget Luca did too because itisinhisnature to be ruthless. It translates into the way he loves too, I guess. Ruthlessly. Fiercely. Annoyingly protective.

But the point is, that he loves. He loved Tony. He loves me. That realization tempers my reaction to his overbearingness. I don’t want him to agonize over my safety, always afraid that what happened to our brother will happen to me.

Making sure no one in the lab is within ear shot, I press against the wall and speak quietly. “Please don’t worry about me. I’m not Tony. I have no power in our family. There’s no reason for anyone to want to take me out the way they did him.”

He remains silent for a moment. Then, “You have no idea how wrong you are.”

“I’m not scared, Luca.”

“You should be of the Ferryman.”

A shiver crawls up my spine at the name. I don’t know all the details. What I have been told has been done so begrudgingly, the rest has been through my own snooping because I hate being left in the dark all the time. It was like this with Tony and Pops too. I’m a mafia princess. A porcelain doll born into a world of brutal criminals. It’s like I’m covered in bubble wrap, but I can still see through just enough to understand that the people around me are violent.

None of it has put fear in me like the Ferryman, though. First of all, the name sounds creepy as hell. But that’s not what terrifies me. It’s that he’s a real threat against my only living relative. Luca is all I have left.

From the little I’ve learned, the Ferryman has been taking out the heads of the families that killed his father. Even though the Sinacores had nothing to do with it, at the time, Luca thought he’d murdered Tony too. By the time it was discovered that it had been Uncle Ray who used the Ferryman’s calling card to fool us— two pennies were placed over Tony’s eyes— it was too late. Luca was involved now.

Just because the Ferryman didn’t kill Tony, doesn’t mean he’ll spare Luca’s life. But me?

“You need to worry about you, Luca,” I say. “You’re the one in danger.”

“Anyone I love is in danger. He’s a very powerful man, Sofia. Too powerful for us alone. I’m going to propose an alliance with the other families he’s after. It might be the only way to bring him down. And if we do, he’ll stop at nothing to destroy that. I can’t have you anywhere near this.”

“I’m not,” I assure him. “Columbia isn’t?—”

“Far enough,” he finishes for me.

Something acrid begins to stir in the pit of my stomach. “What does that mean?”

“You’re being transferred to Stanford.”

“Stanford?!” One of the students in the lab glances up from his paper. I mime‘sorry’and step all the way out into the hall before speaking again. “Stanford? As in, California?”

“Good. You’ve heard of it.”

“Luca, Columbia wasn’t my choice, but I accepted it. I took the classes Pops wanted me too. I’ve obeyed every order.” Not exactly true, but he doesn’t need to know that. “I’ve done everything asked of me in exchange for the little freedom I have. Now you want me to give up my only friend and the only class I actually love? No. Not happening.”

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