Page 35 of Blood and Lies (A Twisted Duet 1)

I placed my hands in my lap. “Don’t you think you should call it a night,Madre?”

“No. I’m fine. I want to be here.”

“I don’t think it’s good for you to be around her. Your wounds are still too raw to face the demon that caused them.”

She glanced around the room and sighed. “Perhaps you are right,mio figlio. I can feel her presence tainting my soul.”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. My mother had always been a religious woman who believed in outside influences shaping our souls, either lifting our spirits or breaking them. Me, I never could decide on which side of the religious line drawn between good and evil I stood. It was too daunting to think we didn’t have control over our spirits, our own souls, that mere meek individuals had the power to influence us. I preferred to think our souls were free and took the shape they were destined to be, whether tainted by blood, greed, lust, or any other sin you could think of. Needless to say, I never shared my mother’s outlook on the topic of religion. Carlo did, though. Carlo would sit next to her in church every Sunday, reciting Psalms and taking part in mass. On occasion, I would join them, but then I’d end up thinking it all was just an act, everyone attending church only doing so to keep up appearances. No one was without sin, yet everyone who sat there pretended they were, when I knew for a fact that Mr. Terelli cheated on his wife every chance he got. And Mrs. Cassia, whose eyes hid behind the veil of her hat, stared at all the young boys, her mind filled with perverted images of each and every one of them.

Then there was Father Ginelli, the priest, the shepherd supposed to lead his flock to eternal life, to save as many souls as he could. At night, when the darkness cast shadows over the city, he fucked every male prostitute he could find. So how could I sit there, searching for redemption and spiritual leadership, when I was surrounded by sinners pretending to be saints? I couldn’t—which was why I stopped going to Sunday mass and started ignoring my mother’s backhanded remarks about my spirit and soul needing guidance.

I would guide my own damn life, do with my spirit and soul as I pleased.

I stood and leaned over to give her a loving kiss on her forehead. “Go rest,Madre. Leave the family business to me. I won’t let you down.”

“I know, Castello.” She placed her hand on mine, resting on her shoulder. “Your father would have been proud.”

Her words spoke to the broken heart beating miserably inside my chest. Making my father proud wasn’t something I was able to do while he was alive. I hoped I could do it now, in his death.

With a heavy sigh, I watched as my mother exited the dining hall. Letting her find peace, honoring her, and taking care of her was what my father would have wanted. Carlo too. Which was why I couldn’t fail.

Renewed determination filled the center of my belly, burning through my veins. I grabbed my newly filled glass and a knife, clinking to get everyone’s attention.

Silence settled over the room, and eyes focused on me.

“Thank you, everyone, for coming. I know this is quite a somber issue we’re addressing here tonight, but nevertheless, it is what’s required of us as a family—and that’s what each and every one of you are. Family. Whether by blood or by proven loyalty, we stand together and unite against those who have wronged us.” I turned my attention to Tatum hanging from the ceiling, her big, fearful eyes focused on me. “Which, in this case, is her.”

Curses, profanities, and disrespectful sneers erupted her way. I started toward her, our gazes locked on one another. She swayed, trying to cower away, but the chains kept her in place, and she sucked in a breath when I stopped right in front of her.

Her crystal blue eyes were clouded with fear, but I saw the way her pupils dilated the second she felt my breath on her lips. And there was no way I could have missed how she sucked in a breath when I touched her collarbone, slowly easing my fingertip between her breasts, down the middle. Something inside her liked my touch; I knew it by her slightly parted lips and the way her body trembled.

I leaned forward, whispering so no one else could hear me. “Be brave, little mouse.”

Abruptly, I tore through the rest of the rag, leaving nothing to cover any part of her front. Her whimpers quickly turned into sobs, and I smiled, loving how humiliation brought the faintest of pink to her cheeks. A quick glance down to what hid between her legs and my cock responded, instantly pushing painfully against my pants, wanting inside her bare pussy.

Fuck, I needed to get my shit under control.

I stepped to the side and pointed toward her naked front. “Take a good look at this woman before you. This is the reason we buried my father and my brother. This is the reason we have all been grieving for the last few months.” I glanced at her, the tears on her cheeks glinting under the lights. “But tonight, this family starts its journey to healing.” I looked back at the crowd. “I swear, on my life, that I will not fail this family and that I will make them pay for taking my brother’s and my father’s lives.”

Cheers echoed through the dining hall, men clapping and clinking drinks. I saw pride in all the eyes focused on me. This was what a leader did. He motivated, he inspired, and he provoked strength in each of his subjects. This was what I was meant to do. Inspire. Not think about sinful acts and sordid fantasies about the enemy.

Tatum stared at me, her eyes pleading for mercy, but there would be none. Not for her.

I turned around and started to walk away.

“Castello.”

I paused when I heard Vico from among the crowd. There was a prickle of warning in the back of my skull, knowing my little brother was up to no good.

I turned to face him. “Vico.”

“Don’t you think we deserve to see her punished?” The way he squared his shoulders, pushing out his chest, made him look like a damn arrogant peacock.

“She will be punished, brother.”

Nicollo stepped beside Vico, his black hair slicked back. “You say that, yes. But as you so eloquently put it, we are all grieving. So don’t you think we all deserve to see her be punished?”

His gaze was etched on mine, filled with amusement and vindictiveness. If I ever had the option to eliminate one person from the Fattore family, Nicollo would be that person.

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