Page 1 of Venomous Vows

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ADRIAN

“Relax,big brother. I have something more interesting to share with you other than listening to Pietro drone on and on about where to store money and how to promote your next big fight for the club.”

“And what could be more interesting than money?” I leer back, and the wordpisseddoesn’t even sum up the way I feel right now when it comes to my brother, Zane.

He’s the bane of my existence these days.

A royal pain in the ass.

While I’m leading a whole organization that was dropped on my lap after our father’s brutal murder, Zane has been living his best life and reaping the rewards of our higher status.

I guess I would be, too, if I were the youngest.

While I’m the business behind it all, Zane gets to reap those rewards with all the female attention and fame it gets him. My brother’s dick is a hot commodity in Bellbrooke. The motherfucker has more money than he knows what to do with and if he strides into my office one more time to tell me that some broad gave him something for free because of how charming he was, I’m going to strangle him.

“Elena Rossi.”

Thoughts of wrapping my fingers around my brother’s neck instantaneously flee my headspace because he’s right.

Thatdoeschokehold around my whole focus.

It would take several rounds of memory loss to rid me of memories that include Elena Rossi.

I remember everything about her.

From the same ice cream she used to pick off the ice cream truck to the awful boxed cupcakes she used to make. Elena Rossi was the girl whoneverbacked down from anyone.

She was fearless.

And stupid.

But fearless nonetheless.

What the hell was I going to do to a little girl at seventeen? It wasn’t in my nature to beat up women, and all I really needed was my mouth to piss her off or send her away.

Most of the time.

While my father was building his organized empire of crime, we lived in the suburbs like any normal, law-abiding citizens. My father cut the grass, said hello to the neighbors, waved to passing cars, and threw parties with alleged mobsters and neighbors alike without anyone being the wiser.

If there was one thing my father was an expert at, it was blending in. And while he helped the community, robbed the rich to feed the poor—real Robin Hood shit—the community ignored any rumors about his supposed criminal affiliations.

In fact, I don’t believe any of them cared. My father was well-liked, respected, and taken care of.

But one person who did notice and didn’t make any qualms about it was Elena. That gossip was something she crucified me with, even at the tender age of thirteen and before.

I was the bad guy.

She was the girl who helped out after school and did charity events for fuck knows what.

And while I did everything I could to keep her away from our house so that no one conjured up any ideas of how much money she could be sold for, I was her villain.

Yet, my temporary solutions of her getting lost were squashed because of Zane. My little brother would not leave her alone long enough for her to get the picture. He refused to stop talking to her, denied any inklings of a crush, and claimed the title of best friend loud and proud.

It was bullshit.

I may have had a four-year age gap between her and Zane a one-year, but he wouldn’t listen to reason and the dangers of what walked into our family every day.

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