Vicious Games (The Next Vicious Generation #2)

Prologue

P rologue

Luciano

“Suspension? Again?” My mother echoes Sister Margaretta’s warning, her voice taut with frustration. “That would be their second this school year—and it’s only October!”

“What can we say? The twins have been quite busy, Mrs. Romano,” Sister Agnes explains with a coy smile, standing behind the no-nonsense Mother Superior and our school’s headmistress, Sister Margaretta. “It seems they wanted to start their senior year off with a bang.”

“I’m starting to see that,” Mom mutters, leveling a disapproving glare at Enzo and me.

Shit.

I hate it when she looks at us like that.

Compared to the nuns, Mom usually has the patience of a saint, but that displeased frown ingrained on her face says that she’s become fed up with our shenanigans. She looks drained from having to make yet another trip to Sacred Heart, where she knows she’ll be forced to sit through Sister Margaretta’s lectures and witness the nun eager to dole out her punishment for our so-called disobedience.

“Come now, Sister Margaretta,” Mom sighs, attempting to defend us. “Whatever Luciano and Enzo did, it couldn’t be bad enough to warrant another suspension. Usually, their pranks are harmless fun.”

Sister Margaretta leans forward on her desk, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Mrs. Romano, take a good look at Sister Agnes. Do you notice anything… different?”

Mom’s forehead creases as she studies the nun. Sister Agnes’s habit is visibly smaller—shrunken down several sizes, hugging her form in a completely inappropriate way for a nun. A stark contrast to the loose, baggy habits they all wear.

“My apologies, Mother Superior, but I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be noticing,” Mom says with a pleasant smile, feigning ignorance.

“Sister,” the headmistress grits out. “Please show Mrs. Romano the rest.”

Sister Agnes’s cheeks pink with embarrassment as she follows Sister Margaretta’s order and turns around.

Printed across her backside, in bold, unmistakable sparkly letters, are the words ‘JESUS WEPT.’

“Oh, dear God.” Mom inhales sharply, bowing her head and pinching the bridge of her nose.

“It’s not just Sister Agnes,” Sister Margaretta continues with a deep-rooted scowl. “Every nun at Sacred Heart has had their habit… customized. I have no idea how your boys managed to sneak into the convent next door, but this will be the last time they ever pull a stunt like this. Is that understood?” She stares at both Enzo and me with a smiting glower.

A moment of silence lingers before our dad, Gio, finally speaks for the first time since the start of this whole godforsaken meeting.

“Pardon me, Mother Superior, but I have a question I’d like to pose.”

Sister Margaretta’s less-than-patient gaze snaps at him. “What is it, Mr. DeLuca?”

“How do you know it was Luciano and Enzo that did this?” His voice is calm, but his expression is stone-faced and all business.

“Are you suggesting another student would dare do this? Dare make a mockery of something as sacred as a nun’s habit?” Her eyes widen slightly.

“I’m asking what proof you have that it was them.”

A deep flush creeps up Sister Margaretta’s face at the insinuation that we could be blameless in all of this.

“I might not have concrete proof, but their history speaks for itself,” she says, straightening her spine as if preparing to present her case by running down the long list of offenses that Enzo and I have committed. “Let me remind you of the twins’ wrongdoings just this year alone. In the first week of school, they thought it would be amusing to replace the holy water with baby oil. As if that weren’t enough, they strolled through the hallways with fake blood smeared on their palms and foreheads, pretending to experience the stigmata. Then, there was Communion Day, when they swapped Father McDonagh’s wine with vodka and cranberry juice. And let’s not forget when they were suspended just two weeks ago for somehow making the Virgin Mary fountain statue at the school’s entrance cry tears of blood.”

“I still say it was a miracle,” Enzo snickers beside me, his voice barely above a whisper.

I bite the inside of my cheek, struggling to keep my laughter in check while Sister Margaretta persists in listing all our recent pranks.

“I could go on,” Sister Margaretta continues, “but I don’t think I need to. Given their past extracurricular activities, do you honestly believe the twins didn’t do this?”

Dad leans back in his chair, a slow, amused grin stretching onto his face.

“They may very well have done all of that and more, but you still haven’t answered my question. If you intend to suspend the boys, you need proof. Without it, you can’t punish them. It’s as simple as that. And if you had such proof, you would have opened with that.”

Mom’s back goes ramrod straight beside him, nodding in agreement.

“I’m afraid Mr. DeLuca is correct. This could have been any student—maybe another senior wanting to leave their mark before graduation. And given my sons’… reputation, it wouldn’t be very difficult for someone else to frame them. I don’t think it’s fair to punish my boys for a crime you assume they’ve committed, especially when they’re so close to graduating.”

Sister Margaretta looks absolutely dumbfounded as our parents hold their ground.

Enzo and I keep our faces perfectly innocent, wearing matching expressions of angelic virtue—like a pair of choirboys who’d never dreamt of causing the nuns such trouble.

Yeah, we’re guilty as fuck, but like hell, I’m going to admit that my brother and I are responsible for every single one of the greatest pranks Sacred Heart has ever seen.

Normally, I’d be pissed about not getting credit for such a masterpiece. Still, there’s no way I’m risking another suspension or, God forbid, expulsion. We’ve made it this far at Sacred Heart, and I refuse to hand Sister Margaretta the ammo she needs to kick me out on a fucking technicality.

Sister Margaretta takes a long moment to think, and when her shoulders finally relax, my nerves spike.

“Fair enough,” she says at last. “The twins can leave with a warning. This time. However, if I find proof that they were behind this, I’ll have no choice but to suspend them. And Mrs. Romano, that means one more strike, and they will be expelled. Is that understood?”

Fucking bitch.

“Understood,” Mom replies, already rising from her seat, eager to leave.

My father, however, doesn’t seem to be in such a hurry.

Instead, I watch him pull out his phone and press a few keys.

“Though the boys have not participated in this prank, I don’t see why the nuns at Sacred Heart should suffer for it. The Romano family has just donated fifty thousand dollars to the school. Hopefully, that will help towards purchasing new habits,” Gio informs before standing up.

“That’s extremely generous of you,” Sister Agnes thanks, looking genuinely grateful.

“Yes, very,” the Mother Superior adds with a tight smile. “Though I feel I should remind you that not every problem can be solved by throwing money at it.”

“And yet, you’ll accept the donation anyway,” Gio counters smoothly, extending his hand for the headmistress to shake.

“Mr. DeLuca.” Sister Margaretta shakes his hand.

“Mother Superior,” he says with a curt nod while the nun keeps a strong hold on his hand.

“Maybe next time you can persuade Mr. Romano to attend these meetings instead of sending his lawyer to accompany his wife. Family matters should be treated within the family. No outside counsel needed.”

“Are you sure about that, Sister? As I see it, it was quite fortuitous that I was the one to assist Mrs. Romano with this issue. If I wasn’t here, then maybe you would have gotten your wish of suspending the twins after all, sans proof of misconduct. Looks like your boss chose to favor me today, instead of you, Mother Superior. You should ask yourself why that is.”

“No self-inspection needed, Mr. DeLuca. I trust His plan in all things.” Sister Margaretta frowns before letting go of my father’s hand. “As the good book tells us, the Lord works in mysterious ways.”

“It would appear so.” My father throws her his best ‘fuck you’ smile.

My mother, on the other hand, is ready to bolt from Sister Margaretta’s office and away from their awkwardly tense interaction. She shakes the nun’s hand quickly, mutters a polite goodbye, and heads straight for the door, certain that our father, Enzo, and I will follow close behind.

“Not a word until we get to the parking lot,” she warns as we walk down the school’s corridor, just as two nuns pass us with their heads hung low, their modified habits on full display.

Dad glances over his shoulder, his lips twitching as he reads the words ‘Jesus Wept’ stamped across their asses.

“Ingenious,” our father murmurs appreciatively with a low chuckle.

“Don’t encourage them, Gio,” Mom mutters, though I catch the ghost of a smile starting to play on her lips.

I have to admit, Enzo and I have come up with a lot of funny shit over the years, but this one—chef’s kiss!

Fucking perfection!

Did it take a lot of work? You bet your ass it did—ensuring that the nuns had nothing else to wear while also getting the new habits done required more manpower and resources than I initially anticipated. But in the end, it couldn’t have gone better, if I do say so myself.

Now, figuring out how to top this prank without getting suspended? That’s going to take some serious strategy and careful thought.

But hey—what’s life without a little risk?

I fucking love a challenge.

Before this year is over and done with, every student at Sacred Heart will know our names.

Luciano and Enzo Romano aren’t just here to play.

We’re here to make history. To ensure our legacy lives on.

We’ll be fucking legends.

And Sister Margaretta will rue the day she ever fucked with us.

My revenge has been a long time coming anyway.