Page 79 of Vicious Games

I’m not special. He said so himself.

Right? Right.

Only a fool would believe anything that comes out of Luciano Romano’s mouth.

I may be inexperienced—just like he loves to remind me—but I’m no fool.

Even if, for one stupid, reckless second, I want to be foolish enough to believe I’m different.

That I’m special. At least to him.

Chapter 11

Luciano

By the time I get home, it’s late. Like over my curfew late. Which is why it’s no surprise that I find my father, Dominic, waiting for me in the kitchen, arms crossed, with a stern expression marred all over his face.

“You missed dinner.Again.”

I sigh, rubbing a hand over my jaw. “Sorry. Couldn’t be avoided. Study session went later than expected.”

“Your study sessions have gonelatealmost every day this week.” His tone is clipped but not accusatory. Yet. “You know how your father hates it when the whole family isn’t here for dinner.”

“Marcello skips it all the time.” I scoff.

“That’s because he’s working.”

“No, it’s because he’s a gym rat who prefers spending all his time inside the ring than spending it with his family. I was studying, Dad. Not working on my abs. That has to count for something.”

His gaze sharpens. “You don’t study.”

I flash him a cocky grin because he’s right. I’ve never studied for anything in my whole life.

“Stop busting my balls, Dad. You know what I mean. I was helping Frankie with her schoolwork. It’s my community service. You do want to see me graduate, don’t you?”

That gets him.

A muscle tics in his jaw before he finally exhales, relenting. “Fine. Just make sure you don’t skip the important meals. That means no tutoring on Sundays.”

“You got it.” I flash him a smile, ready to make my grand escape before he can grill me further. Unfortunately for me, his tattooed hand clamps around my forearm, stopping me mid-step.

“Why aren’t you in your school uniform?” His voice is deceptively casual, but his gaze is razor-sharp, scanning every inch of me. “And why do you look like you just got out of the shower?”

Fuck me and my mafia fathers who notice every little detail.

I school my features before answering. “Because I got my uniform dirty and had to change into my gym gear after I took a shower.”

“And how exactly did you get your clothes dirty?”

Because I came like a fucking chump from dry-humping alone, and the goddess that is Frankie O’Malley soaked my lap, too.

But since there’s no way I’m telling my father that, a lie will have to do.

“Some kid tripped and spilled his Red Bull all over me at the library. Honest mistake. Which is why I had to take a shower back at school and came home even later than usual. Any more questions, or can I go to my room now? Keeping on the straight and narrow is exhausting.”

I try to keep a straight face as the silence stretches between us for a beat.

“Fine.” His grip loosens, and I waste no time slipping away, heading straight to my room and locking the door before anyone else can try todebriefme.

---