LORENZO
“Are we going to address the elephant in the room?” I ask, staring down into my mug of black coffee. I don’t have the sweet tooth my brother has, nor the desire for any form of milk like my sister. Just a cup of Joe, or ten, as long as it’s strong and steaming hot.
When no one answers, I lift my head from where I’m perched on a stool at the kitchen island. The first pair of eyes I meet are Sienna’s as she turns around from the coffee maker. I quickly avert my gaze before guilt has time to manifest. It should have been me that killed Vin, not Dom. Perhaps that would have alleviated some of the disgrace I feel for what could have happened to my sister last night, as well as over a month ago when she was attacked outside of the gym, when I should have been there with her. But like always, it was Domenico and his knightly, albeit deviant, ways to the rescue.
Flicking my eyes over to where my father stands directly across from me with his lower back against the edge of the granite in front of the kitchen sink, his own black cup of coffee in hand, he stares back at me, his expression giving nothing away. Everyone in the kitchen is silent. The only noise that fills the spacious room is the sounds of whatever Brooklyn is watching on her iPad from where she is seated at the breakfast nook to my right with Matteo.
“That depends on what elephant you’re referring to, son.” He brings his mug to his lips, sipping the liquid. He looks like he’s aged fifteen years since he left here last night, less than ten hours ago. I suppose killing your father would do that to a man. The question is why? What did Grandpa do that would have Antonio Caputo putting him into permanent retirement? “If you’re speaking of your two-year marriage to Sasha Nikolayev that you’ve kept a secret from your family, why say anything now? You’ve had plenty of time to explain to any one of us why you did what you did. Seems pointless now.”
“Actually, I was referring to the events of last night.”
“We’re not talking business at breakfast,” Dom says from behind me, before coming into view as he makes his way to where our sister is blocking the coffee maker. Sienna slides down, making room for Domenico.
“Coffee doesn’t constitute as breakfast, so unless you want to whip me up some pancakes, this isn’t food, bro,” I argue. Glancing over his shoulder, he flips me off, but there’s no emotion behind his action. He’s not mad. He’s not even fucking with me. That’s when I notice the dark circles underneath his dark gaze. Those only appear when he’s killed someone—but I thought it was Dad that ended Grandpa’s miserable life.
Flicking my gaze over to our dad, I see they mirror one another in appearance, except Dad is dressed in his usual black business attire whereas Domenico is wearing jeans and a plain white T-shirt and his hair is still damp from a recent shower. They both look like they went twelve rounds in a championship match.
“Well?”
“Last night is fucking over. It’s done. Leave it, Lorenzo,” he snaps at me.
“Bad word, Papa T. Pay up!” Brooklyn says as she snaps her little fingers without looking away from her screen, her palm now face up, waiting for a payday. That kid is going to be rolling in the dough if Matteo continues to allow her to hang around the Caputos. After proposing to my sister last night, I guess he doesn’t plan on leaving anytime soon.
I haven’t decided how I feel about that. I might act like I don’t pay attention to what’s going on around me or in my family, but that is the furthest from the truth. I see. I hear. He does love Sienna, that’s clearly written all over his smug face for the world to see. Not growing up in this life, Matteo doesn’t realize he’s telling the universe his weakness.
My apprehension has nothing to do with if they love each other or not. Love doesn’t get anyone anywhere; at least not in my case with Sasha.
“Sienna, pay the girl,” Dad instructs.
“I’m paid up through the end of the year. If you didn’t strike a deal with her then that’s your problem, Daddy, not mine.” Sienna smirks as she brings her mug up to her lips, taking a sip of her sugary and milked-down coffee.
“Princess,” Dad says in a tone that sounds way too fatherly, making you question if it’s the devil playing his sinful tricks on you, “that’s why you manage all the fucking money in the family.” He pauses, then lifts an eyebrow. “Pay the kid or I’ll dock your salary. In fact, give her a bonus.”
“You cut a deal with your future stepdaughter? Really, sis?” I deadpan.
Domenico turns, his mug of coffee in hand. “The fact that you didn’t,” he chimes in, “shows your lack of intelligence.”
“Nah,” our sister pipes up. “He doesn’t need an arrangement like us, Dom. He’s good at watching his tongue. Keeps that motherfucker locked tight inside his mouth, in fact. Probably won’t catch him slipping up.”
“You got a point, Si,” he agrees. Their insinuation grinds on my nerves; mainly because I’m not used to them teaming up on me. It’s usually Sienna and me teaming up against him. I get I fucked up. I know I’ve let my family down. I don’t need it shoved down my goddamn throat at every turn, and that’s what they’re all doing right now, Dad included.
“You two can fuck right the fuck off.”
“That’s two bucks, Renny.” Glancing over, Brooklyn has the biggest smile on her face, loving all of this. Matteo better be careful that he isn’t raising a miniature version of her gold-digging, bitch-ass mother. If there is one person that deserves to end up in a gutter, it’s that bitch. Carrying her to Dom’s Range Rover last night, that’s exactly what I wanted to do. She was the reason my twin sister was taken. She wasn’t worthy of being saved. We should have finished her off too, like what happened to Vin. I’m surprised Dom didn’t. In all honesty, I can’t seem to understand why he didn’t.
It doesn’t make sense with the man I know my brother is. He isn’t evil, but there is a darkness inside him that triumphs Sienna’s and mine. I like to inflict pain. I like to see blood running over flesh, but I don’t have any desire to kill. I leave that shit up to Dad and Dom. I’m happy just roughing someone up when it’s needed, but I could have changed that last night. I should have. It’s a regret I’ll carry around until that trash is six feet in the ground.
“It’s Ren or Lorenzo, kid. My name isn’t Renny.” Her lips purse and then her eyes roll. If she wasn’t a product of Matteo’s high school girlfriend, she could easily pass for my sister’s daughter if she had one. That right there is a Sienna Caputo signature look. Next thing you know, she’ll be throwing elbows into faces like her too.
“I call him Renny so you can call him Renny too,” Sasha’s seductive voice coats my skin, penetrating all the way down to my soul. She isn’t trying to be sexy, but she doesn’t have to try. She just is, even when we’re at each other’s throats.
She was sleeping when I woke up, so I left her in my bed naked and on her stomach with the covers almost down to the globes of her ass cheeks. I practically bolted from my bedroom for fear of waking her up with my dick in her pussy. It was either that or shove it down her throat, so I did neither and left. My dick is still angry with me, but then she’s as good at giving me blue balls as she is wringing all the cum from my Johnson. Even he has it bad for my wife.
“Damn,” Sienna whines. “My prayers before bed last night that you would jump headfirst out of Ren’s window didn’t come true. Bummer.” Sienna slides to her left, sighing dramatically as she rests against Domenico’s arm, further pissing me off. She doesn’t bother looking at me, which tells me she’s doing it on purpose for my benefit—and it’s working.
Why in God’s name do my two lifelines have to hate each other? I’ve loved three women in my entire twenty-four years. I’ve already lost one of them. I’m on the verge of losing another. And the third? Well, I’ve never quite gotten to call her mine. A marriage license doesn’t mean jack shit when the other person doesn’t want you in the forever kind of way.
“Oh, trust me, I wouldn’t be here if it were of my own free will,” Sasha states with a sardonic grin.