Page 1 of Toxic

Prologue

Bridget O'Connor

24 Years Ago

"Let's play spin the bottle!"my best friend Cara exclaims, beaming at me like it's the best idea in the world, then clinking her tumbler of whiskey against mine.

It's my sweet sixteen party. My father finally agreed to let me scoot out of the main event with the rest of my friends and promised me he'd leave us alone. It wasn't hard to convince him once our clan and the Marinos showed up. He has so many powerful men around him, along with single women fighting for his attention, that he won't lack anything in the entertainment department all night.

My mother left us years ago. She decided she couldn't handle the mafia life and tried to take my brothers and me with her, but my father stopped her. He told her if she wanted to go, she could, but we were staying with him where we belonged. She chose her freedom.

Apparently, my four brothers and I aren't that important to her. Since then, all we get is a phone call every Christmas. My older brothers, Aidan and Brody, are like me. We barely speak to my mother for more than a minute. My youngest brothers, Devin and Tynan, used to talk to her longer. It pained me, watching them. Hope would light in their eyes, and her promise to come see us soon always fell flat. Now, no one puts any stock in her word. She makes no effort to travel from California to see us. And ever since my father divorced my mother, he's become the top bachelor to snag.

Cara smirks. "Bridget?"

A butterfly spreads its wings so large in my gut, I grab the bar counter to hold myself up. My father had his staff remove all the liquor before the party started, but it was pointless. I attend the most expensive private high school in New York City. Most of my friends—both girls and guys—have Bailey's Irish Cream in their morning coffee and vodka for lunch. It's not a drink of choice, but it doesn't smell like whiskey or other alcohol. And the teachers might know what's going on, but they act like they don't. I suppose it's easier for them since most of my friends' parents take their word over any authority figure.

So even though my father had the alcohol removed and replaced with soda and other drinks he deemed safe, the bar is now covered in everything you can imagine.

Cara's eyes dart to the Marino twins, and my cheeks instantly flush. I've known Dante and Gianni forever. I'm a sophomore, and they're seniors. Their brother, Massimo, is a freshman, and he's across the room, but I barely notice him.

Dante and Gianni are a different story. They're identical twins and the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome. Their sculpted cheekbones are every girl's fantasy. Their intense, brooding eyes can pin you wherever you are and make it feel like time is standing still. They tower over me, and both are boxers. Dante is more serious about it than Gianni, but their muscles are just as identical as their faces.

Sometimes, I can't tell who's who until they speak. But I've had so many long conversations with Dante, it doesn't take more than a few words before I know if it's him or Gianni.

One day, Dante gave me a cell phone. My father didn't see the need for me to have one and I didn’t care. But Dante did. He surprised me with it and showed me how to text. That night, and every night after, we spent hours sending messages until one of us fell asleep.

The twins are the most popular guys in our school, and it's not a secret they change places at times, whether it's for a test or even with girls. The unsuspecting victim should be upset, but it's almost become a rite of passage at our school. If you've made out or gone all the way with the Marino twins, versus just one of them, it's an instant spot in the cool girls' club. And some of the girls are the ones spreading the gossip before Dante or Gianni even have a chance.

One look at them creates flutters in my stomach that make me dizzy. If I find out it's Gianni I'm looking at, then the flutters die. But never with Dante. With him, they only burn hotter.

It wasn't always this way though. It only started happening this past year. I've known them my entire life. Almost every holiday or special event is at their house or ours. We've always hung out, but I never thought about it until one day, the way Dante looked at me made my heart stammer. After that, I've been crushing hard. I thought it was all one-sided, and his extra attention was me wishing for more, until about a month ago.

It was a typical monthly party at his father, Angelo's, house. Dante and Gianni had turned eighteen, and Angelo gave them their own wings at the Marino compound. All of us kids went into Gianni's side of the house, which also had a brand-new theater screen.

Instead of fancy theater seating, Gianni chose couches and ottomans. Angelo somehow snagged a copy of the latest action movie that was still in the theater, and we all got comfy with popcorn, alcohol, and blankets.

Dante sat next to me, and Gianni was on the other side. It wasn't out of the ordinary. Dante and I have always had a closer friendship, and the twins are never far from the other. It wasn't the first time I sat between them, but when Dante tossed a blanket over the two of us, my skin buzzed as if it knew something was going to happen. Then he stretched his long legs on the ottoman.

"Put your feet up and get comfy, Bridge," he ordered.

I did it, and he handed me a beer.

The movie had just gotten past the first scene when his knuckles slid down the side of my leg. I was wearing shorts, and his touch on my bare skin made me hold my breath.

I froze, wondering if it was a mistake, staring at the screen and not comprehending one word. Then he slid his hand between my thighs, and my insides liquefied. I swallowed hard. Then, keeping my head still, I used my peripheral vision to peek at him.

He tossed popcorn in his mouth and took a swig of beer, like nothing was going on. At the same time, the tips of his long fingers slid under my cut-off denim.

No boy had ever gotten so close to my most intimate region, and the way my pussy ached for him to touch it surprised me.

Then he did it.

He slid his hand through my panties, a finger up my entrance, and rubbed my clit with this thumb.

I shuddered on the spot. Heat overwhelmed me so intensely, I knew my face had to be the color of a tomato.

Gianni leaned close to me and scanned my face, smirking. "You all right?"

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