Page 4 of Conall's Reign

Angelo took over the family after my father died, stepping into his place following his murder after leaving a meeting with a rival family. Our mother had disappeared years earlier, leaving our father and the three of us like we were trash. She’d been brittle and mean, prone to scathing remarks about my weight and appearance, so I hadn’t been sorry to see her leave. As far as I was concerned, she could stay gone.

Stefano Santelli hadn’t been a good man, and I felt guilty standing by his coffin when the priest asked us to pray for his soul. The only prayers I had were that I hoped he was rotting somewhere in hell. If God were listening, he would probably strike me down then and there for wishing that.

Since that day, Angelo has ruled the Santellis. He raised my younger brother Remo and me, and I did my best to be a good sister.

A good person.

I leaned against the bar, sipping something fruity and non-alcoholic. Angelo had made sure the staff understood the rules: no booze for the birthday girl. Typical big brother move, but I didn’t mind. I wasn’t interested in drinking anyway. The pulse of the music, the laughter of my friends, and the dazzling atmosphere were intoxicating enough. I could have had some friends hand me one of their drinks, but that wasn’t worth disappointing Angelo.

“Frankie!” Theo, my best friend since forever, grabbed my arm and spun me around. Her glittery jacket sparkled under the strobe lights. “I’ve got an idea. A brilliant one.”

I narrowed my eyes, already suspicious. “What kind of idea?” Theo’s ideas rarely were good ones.

Theodosia Anthakos was my best friend, but she was lightning in the middle of a tornado, even during the best of times. The girl was a disaster. I loved her anyway, but it was wise to approach her (and all her hare-brained schemes) with caution.

“Let’s take Angelo’s car for a spin,” Theo said, leaning forward and flashing a grin reminiscent of the Cheshire cat.

“Have you lost your mind?” I sputtered on my drink. “He’ll kill me. No, he’ll kill you because he’ll know it was your idea. Then he’ll kill me for going along with it.”

This was a terrible idea. One thing that was guaranteed to annoy my brother more than anything else — was touching one of his precious cars. He was a car geek to the extreme. I didn’t understand the interest or where he’d gotten it from, but he loved them. They were his one true love, and you didn’t mess with his cars. He taught me to drive in a beat-up old Honda even though he had five supercars in the garage. He’d said it would be foolish to let me practice driving in an expensive car. I mean … he wasn’t wrong.

“Come on, Frankie,” Theo whined. “You’re eighteen now! Live a little. Besides, he’s busy schmoozing. He’ll never know. He can’t kill me anyway.” She tossed her hair. “He’s friends with my brother. Ilias would never let him hurt me.”

That was true. Her brother and mine were friends, but I wasn't sure that friendship would protect her if we took Angelo’s car. I wasn't even certain I’d be spared from Angelo’s anger. Even so, it was tempting.

The others chimed in, their voices blending into a chorus of encouragement. “Go for it, Frankie! It’ll be fun!” “Just a quick joyride around the block. Nothing crazy.”

They couldn’t understand. Touching his carswasinsane. I shook my head, reason creeping in. “No way. That’s ridiculous. It would also be stealing. And… just no.”

My brothers taught me how to drive, taking turns teaching me. Angelo and Remo doted on me, driving me to school, dance lessons, sleepovers, and movies with my friends — all supervised, of course. They made me pancakes on Sundays and watched cartoons with me. I was theirprincipessa— their princess. I tried to repay them by being as good of a sister as I could.

“You’re scared,” Theo said with a smirk, crossing her arms. “Little Miss Perfect is too chicken,” she teased. “Come on, just around the block.”

I understood that Theo didn’t mean it, but the words hit home.

“I am not scared,” I retorted, bristling. But I was. Not just of Angelo finding out but of disappointing him. He was… complicated. I knew his business dealings weren’t exactly above board, but he loved me fiercely, so I didn’t care that he was a mafioso.

“Of course, you’re not,” she soothed.

Still, the taunts stung, and the thought of proving them wrong was undeniably tempting. Theo had many of the qualities I wished I had. She was brave and interesting, and she drew people into her orbit and made things happen.

“I dare you,” Theo sang, her eyes sparkling almost as brightly as the sequins on her jacket.

“Fine,” I said, the word escaping before I could stop it. “But just to grab the keys. If I get caught, you’re dead to me.” I didn’t mean any of it, and Theo knew it.

She squealed and hugged me, almost spilling her drink on my dress. “Agreed! I’ll be deader than dead. Come on, let’s do this.”

The others lingered behind, giggling and cheering us on as we crept toward Angelo’s office. The hallway felt quieter, muffled by the thick walls, but my heels clicked against the polished floor, each step echoing more loudly in my ears.

My brother was busy at the bar with his friends—Ilias, Theo’s older brother; Maxim Volkov, with his unsettling, dead-eyed stare; and Conall O’Kelly. Maxim didn’t visit often, and I appreciated that. He spent most of his time out West in California, keeping his ominous presence far from my life. My other brother, Remo, was over with his own group of friends who were closer in age, surrounded by a bunch of girls with short skirts and tops that almost showed their nipples.

But Conall O’Kelly? He was something else entirely. An Irish mobster and, as far as I could tell, the ringleader of my brother’s close-knit circle of influential friends.

Conall wasn’t just commanding. He was magnetic. With his reddish-blond hair always styled carefully, almost meticulously, and a broad, muscular build, he looked like he belonged in a different time—a warrior leading his clan. His brown eyes held a sharpness that suggested he missed nothing, even in the haze of music and lights.My eyes ran over him while he wasn’t looking — the biceps that strained his tailored suit and the way the others turned to him for direction.

He caught me watching him and raised his glass in my direction. I looked away quickly, my cheeks burning, but not before noticing Theo’s knowing smirk.

“Frankie, you need to stop staring,” she said, tugging at my arm. “People will start to think you have a crush on him. Besides, Conall is too old for you anyway.”

---