Page 78 of Dirty Behavior

“No, but he never had the Pisani boys after him either. He's not stupid, Dante, he's careful. He just doesn't realize that he fucked with the wrong bloodline. Our father might not have been so lucky, some asshole was able to—”

“He killed him, Ses, Remo's the one who did that.”

I saw his eyes flash, the white enlarging as thick veins exploded from the outside, crashing into his pupils.“What?”

I hadn't planned on telling him just yet because of the hand I had in our father's death. But it looked like it wasn't my choice anymore.

“Remo's the one who shot dad.”

“How do you know that? They've worked together for years, why?”

“Well. . .” Dragging my hand through my hair, I stared out the window. “It's my fault, he did it because of me.”

There, I said it. It's out, Sesto knows now.

“Dante, that's crazy. Why the hell would Remo do that? I mean yeah, he's a fucking asshole, but why would he just kill his business partner? It doesn't make sense, regardless of what you did.” Shaking his head, Sesto rubbed his forehead vigorously. “Look, I know you never liked him, but it doesn't matter what you said, that wouldn't—”

“I stole his virgin.”

“You what?”His jaw dropped open, hitting his chest.

“Ivy, she belonged to him. He was going to use her, make her a sex slave or some shit. He fucked her up real bad, Sesto. Dad had us take her because Remo owed us money that he wasn't paying. I was supposed to kill her because she had seen some shit she shouldn't have. I talked dad into keeping her around, telling him I could work the deal only if she was still alive. But I couldn't give her back, so I stole her. I fucking did this.”

“You're fucking with me right?”

Hanging my head, the shame of having torn our father from Sesto felt like a kick in the gut. I didn't regret taking Ivy, but he had spent the last year locked up, alone. I only went one time, and it was just to make sure he knew I'd be waiting to kill him when he got out.

And now, his father was gone before he had the chance to tell him his side of the story. Our father died thinking he was a rat. I not only stole Ivy, but I stole Sesto's chance to clear the air with our dad.

I felt awful. All of this went down because of my greedy fucking hands.

I'm a fucking prick.

“Remo killed dad because I ran off with her, I refused to give her back. It's my fault Dad's gone, Ses, it's all because of me.”

I waited for him to get pissed, to fly off the handle and fucking punch me clear in the face. And I deserved that, he had every right to fucking hit me. Shit, he had every right to kill me if he wanted to right then and there.

Bane and Sesto had always been close, he was dad's shining star. As for me, I was always the second choice. If my father was still alive, everything we had would be passed down to my older brother.

“I don't care, Dante, that doesn't give Remo the right to do what he did. Ivy doesn't deserve to be treated like a fucking whore, I know that. I wanted him dead for what he did to me, now I want him dead for so many other reasons. Let's go get this motherfucker, take him out of his misery.” Slapping my back, Sesto opened the door and jumped out.

I wasn't sure what to think. He wasn't judging me for what happened, he didn't care. I had spent an entire year dragging his name through the mud, but he was able to brush off my betrayal to our father like it was nothing. He was still here, ready to storm the gates with me.

He deserves to sit in the throne.

For all of our differences, Sesto was a good guy.

Leaning back over, his head poked through the door. “Are you coming, or are you just going to sit there jacking off the rest of the night?”

“Fuck you,” I said, huffing under my breath. “Let's go.”

Our feet tapped against the pavement as we made our way to the yard. The area was abandoned, filled with a bunch of empty houses. The windows were all broken and boarded up. The vinyl siding no longer held just one dull color, but was tagged in a multitude of badly spray painted dicks and gang signs.

We were like two shadows of a past life walking through the apocalypse. This side of town didn't have the hustle and bustle of sound. The air was cool and crisp, filled with the occasional whip of wind and the silence of an ambush.

I walked watching the empty homes, waiting to spot the eye shine of my enemy. No one seemed to be following us, but it didn't stop my heart from beating fast and muscles hardening, ready to fight.

Flipping up my collar, I drove my hands into my pockets and kept my eyes wide open. We were getting close, I could smell the stench of the ocean with each passing gust of wind.

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