Chapter 2
Chapter Two
NEVIO
T he Vece mansion is crawling with every monster known to man. It’s like a festival of villains. In this room alone, I can count many men who should be dead or behind bars for what they have done. It’s suffocating me being surrounded by so much noise, smoke, and insincere niceties.
Any other place and these men would kill one another without hesitation, except this is poker night — on poker night we play nice.
Except , I don’t play well with others, not just at poker, but ever.
Earlier I took a walk for air — there is no air in the house that isn’t tainted with smoke or cocaine dust. There is filth for days in here. It’s constricting my throat. I’m no better. I have no room to judge them, but I still do. I am not the same as them — we may be cut from the same cloth, but I have been starched and ironed hard.
The men are getting more drunk, more hopped up on white powder, more aggressive.
The bets are getting more risky, and I, for one, would like to fold and go home for the night. Yet I stay, because earlier when I went to find air I found Dalila Vece in her silk pajamas. My fucking God, she is a temptation to all of mankind, that girl. They keep her locked away in this gilded cage, but I saw it in her eyes — that girl is wild. A feral little beast just waiting to be set free of her prison.
The Vece brothers will have a husband chosen for her, eventually. It’s a matter of time and the right alliance. Her father calls her a menace and says she is a rebellious little devil. I know she has been sneaking out with my younger cousins, doing things and going places where she could get hurt — or worse, hunted.
I know, because I would hunt Dalila Vece.
There are many things I would do to Dalila if I had the chance to get my hands on her — but no one gets their hands on her. No, she is the ultimate prize . She was sassy and feisty when I asked why she was down here alone. She shouldn’t be down here at all.
“My sister’s virginity and fuck it her hand in marriage, too.” I almost break my poker face when Masaccio bets her away so frivolously. What the fuck is he doing? He is wasted — he cannot be serious? Many of the men at our table pause, their mouths watering for that pot. It is so incredibly sweet — what is his end game? Or is he just stupid?
“Your father will kill you.” The man on his left pipes up, with an indisputable fact, but somehow Mas is unshaken.
“The old man is tired of her shit. This just makes finding her a husband more fun for me. He already tasked me to do it this week, now I can do it my way.”
He’s wasted. That is the only thought I have right now. They are ready to marry her off before she gets herself into trouble and isn’t worth it. A pawn in a much bigger game, I see him and his plan. I raise his stupid bet. If I win, I can make sure the monsters who are worse than me lose.
Many are weary and their pockets are running low, but some go all in — I am one of them. There’s a prize I actually want for once. I have money, cars, and all the fine things that this world has to offer. I don’t have a wife — and no one would choose me to wed their prized daughter.
I am the faulty son, the one who isn’t perfect. I self-consciously pull my collar up on the side to hide the blood red birth mark that shows over it. I’m not the same. I should be my father’s pride, his eldest son. Instead, I have been his shame. The one he keeps in the shadows. My physical imperfection made me the second choice. Broken from birth, raised to be the silent killer. I have no voice in my family. I have one purpose and it is certainly not to marry a pretty girl.
My only job is to me a monster, the silent shadow of death that these men fear.
Villains like me, we are not made for love, and women, we don’t get the family and the feelings you need to be considered a human.
There are advantages to being silent. No one ever sees me coming. They assume silent and deaf are the same thing, shooting their mouths off — I listen just fine. In fact, if you shut up long enough, you hear everything. I know too many secrets, some of them are like lead shackles — others are leverage for days when I need to make myself heard.
I spoke to Dalila in the kitchen earlier. I never speak to anyone. But I wanted to say her name.
Now I am playing a game for her — I will stop at nothing to win her. It is the only way I’d ever be able to attain the object of my affection.
“And then there were three.”
Mas says as yet another player folds. Only one of my opponents is not bluffing and I can’t be sure my hand will beat his, but I can be sure he would break Dalila in a day.
To him, she’d be nothing but spoils of war, a taste of revenge against her father who has wronged many men.
Mas has played right into the hand of his enemy.
That man would be tied to their family forever.
As a man, I have never asked God for anything — he never answered when I was a child, now he certainly wouldn’t listen. But I ask, just in case he cares about her, that he allows me to win this hand and save her. Her brother is an idiot who has gambled away his sister’s life and body while drunk and high. He should be my next kill, but I can’t do that. I won’t.
Vece are untouchable .
The room falls silent, the rowdy banter dies down to almost a hush when they realize what is really at stake — and I am sweating at the pressure of so many eyes all on me. I loathe being the center of attention. My skin itches to just throw it in and escape this pressure cooker. They glare. It is my own personal hell.
My collar is too tight, and I can’t swallow the fear that creeps up my dry throat. I try to wash it down with cognac. I am so close, but will they really give her to me?
The old man is not here — conspicuously absent — he might put a stop to this. Not because my family is not a good match, but because it is me and not my brother. He’s the next in line. I am just the shadow, all I will ever be. Maybe with Dalila on my arm, I could come out of the shadows.
“This is madness.” Celso, the youngest Vece boy, whispers under his breath, clearly concerned for his sister, more so than Mas.
Rufino is passed out cold, unable to defend her either. These boys, they have always been on a power-trip; they have an unshakable bind. Tonight I see a crack. Celso is not behind this choice, he is fidgeting and distracting me.
“Why are you doing this, Mas?” He pipes up and his brother gives him a look that makes him shrink away. Masaccio is the boss even though their father is still breathing. He is twin number one, and he leads this family. Tuomo is gone from the party, nowhere to be seen. He is no doubt balls deep in one of the cocktail waitresses that have been serving up drinks, cocaine, and favors all night.
Four brothers — and only one is trying to protect his sister. Disgraceful . Their mother, sadly, wasn’t around for long enough to raise them better.
My opponent scratches his nose, gripping his cards tighter. I know then that I have already won. But I will never allow them to see my victory has moved me. This is business, a tradeoff. A marriage to tie this Vece family to mine for eternity. I cannot imagine my wife is going to come willingly with me.
“Well, Ugly Boy,” Ma growls, perhaps only now seeing the stupidity in his gamble. “You have won yourself a wife.” He shakes my hand, sealing her fate — and mine. My father will not be happy about this either. Where are all our father’s tonight?
Something is not right. Masaccio is too confident, too cocky — what has he done? He is planning something.
I say nothing. These men do not get my words. They are not worth it. None of them would listen. “You can go up and fetch her,” he nods to the in-house security to allow me access to the rest of the house, “maybe you can tame the little beast. Careful though, she bites.” He laughs.
I bite harder .
Mas is too calm, too confident that there will be no repercussions for this foolish plan.
My suspicions are raised, my guard is up, and I can smell a rat.
I nod, standing up to leave the playing table. I am almost certain I have walked into a trap — but the thing about me is you can’t trap a shadow. Even if this is a setup, I am not leaving here without my prize. Security moves out of my path, as Mas escorts me through the bodies, women, and mess to the private side of the house, up the marbled staircase and into the most intimate part of their home.
I can smell her the same way I could in the kitchen. A delicate scent, one that reeks of innocence and fire. Dalila is not one thing. She is, however, mine.
“She’s all yours.” Mas says a bitter twang in his voice. “Dalila, wake up.” He hollers from the door, and I breach the threshold, entering her space.
She sits up in her bed, her silk pajamas have moved, and her breast is exposed. Even in the shadows, I can see her sweet, pert nipple.
“What the fuck, you asshole? I am sleeping. Take your bullshit party downstairs.” She sasses at her oldest brother. He growls.
“Party is over, and you are going home with your husband to-be here. He won you fair and square. I will have your things sent over tomorrow.” Mas is emotionless when he speaks to her, unaffected by her cheeky tone. He is cold and completely calm. Dalila laughs, her sweet giggles bubble up from her belly as she rolls on her bed as if this is a joke. “Whatever. Get out of my room.”
“You can stop laughing.” Mas says.
“You going to marry me off to the silent, ugly guy?” She asks, realizing Mas is not joking at all, “are you fucking for real?” Dalila looks scared now, her bronze skin turns ashen.
“Mas, what have you done? Dad will never let you.”
“Dad is on board with this. It is time you got married. It will get you back under control.” He looks at me, silently handing that responsibility to me. “Nevio is from a good family, and he will make sure you are cared for.”
“I know what he is!” she says, her pitch higher now, “you have lost your fucking mind if you think I am going to marry him. Go down there and pick another. Someone else. Anyone else.”
“He won you. It is not about picking.” Masaccio isn’t budging - not emotionally or physically, he stands dead still.
“Get up, put on some shoes, and do as you are told, Dalila.” Her tears shimmer in the moonlight where it pours in through the window. Her sweet tender innocence shines through over her feisty fight, and I watch her break into a million pieces as she stands up and obeys her brother. Destroyed by his brutal betrayal. Could she ever have seen this coming? Someone she loves throwing her to the wolves like he did downstairs.
She’s lucky it was me that won. She’s lucky it wasn’t one of those demons who would have torn her apart. Literally and figuratively.
I will put her pieces back together and show her how precious she is. If I do nothing else, I will love Dalila Vece, because she is mine. I won her fair and square.
“I hate you.” She seethes at her brother, standing beside me in her pajamas and a pair of sneakers. Her hair in a messy ponytail and her face clear of all her usual makeup. The most beautiful prize in the world. “Celso!” she shrieks at the top of her lungs, but no one is coming to save her from me.
“You better take her before she creates a scene.” Mas speaks to me and I nod, turning to her. She is crying and when I step closer, she balls her fists and pummels them against my chest. It tickles — she hits like the pretty little girl she is. I lift her over my shoulder in one quick move. She screams and kicks, but nothing could stop me from taking her now.
Now I have touched her — she is mine .