Devious Revenge (Vicious Sinners #5)

Chapter 1

The dying sunlight pours through the doorway as Father Steven stands with one foot on the porch. His condolences continue to drip onto the pristine marble flooring of the foyer, leaving a puddle of bullshit at my feet.

No one is sorry they’re gone.

Not even this holy man doing his best to sound sincere.

If only he would hurry up and leave.

“Of course, Father. Thank you.” I place my hand on the door, a signal that I’m ready to shut it now.

“If you should need anything, my dear. Please, don’t hesitate to call the Church. We are here for you, for all of your family.” He swallows deeply while his gaze sweeps behind me, looking for my uncle.

Vicente DeAngelo can’t be bothered with such unimportant things as walking the priest who presided over the funerals of three of his nephews to the door.

I wonder how many rosaries he will recite trying to wipe the lies he’s told today from his soul.

My tongue still aches from biting on it while the priest gave glowing eulogies to three men who no doubt, right this moment, sit at the Devil’s table.

“I will, Father. Again, thank you for today. Everything was wonderful.” Inwardly, I cringe.

Wonderful shouldn’t be the word used to describe the day you bury your three older brothers.

Yet, it fits.

His smile falters slightly, the collar tightening around his throat as he swallows again.

“Please let your uncle know I send my condolences again, and if he should have need of anything—” Resting my hand on his arm shuts him up.

“I will convey the message, Father. Really, everything you’ve done for my family is greatly appreciated.”

His expression softens. I wonder if he’d said something out of turn with my uncle. Maybe that’s why he seems so worried right now.

“It’s been a long day, as you can imagine.” I drop my hand from his arm and grab the door again.

He understands the signal this time and nods, stepping completely out of the house.

“Of course. You need your rest.” He straightens, stuffs a black knit hat on his head, and finally leaves.

“Sienna.” One of my uncle’s men appears in the foyer, as though stepping from the shadows.

I’m not used to these men Uncle Vicente has brought with him from Italy. They seem to lurk about waiting for something to happen, so they can either intervene or to report back to him.

“Yes? Uh, I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten your name.” I deadpan.

It’s not this man’s fault my family has laid down roots in the pit of hell.

“Your uncle wants to see you.” His tone is brisk, and his shoulders roll back, the perfect soldier position.

That’s what these men are, soldiers. They’re not associates or friends of the family. They’re Uncle Vicente’s little warriors that he brought with him, as though someone here in this house would conceive of attacking him.

My brothers were his little soldiers, too. If Uncle Vicente called from Italy with an order, they jumped right to it. For a man who lived so far away, he had a tight grip on the strings he used to control his little puppets.

I need to stop thinking such horrible things about them. They’re dead. My brothers, all three of them, were gunned down and killed. They’re gone forever.

Shouldn’t I have more grief in my soul?

“Can it wait? I want to be sure the caterers cleaned up.”

“No.” He sweeps his arm to the left, indicating he’s going to escort me himself. “He’s in his office.”

I draw my shoulders back. My father’s office is what he means. At least it was. I suppose, if we’re going to be technical about it, it hasn’t been my father’s office in ten years. Not since both he and my mother died.

“Right.” I clench my jaw. “The office.”

My heels click against the tiles as we make our way down the hall to the double oak doors of the office. Standing outside the room is another of his minions. This one at least wears a full suit, not just a white button down like my escort.

He looks me over, his eyes full of want while his lips curl into a smile I would gladly wipe off his face if it didn’t mean my uncle would take the opportunity to make my existence unbearable.

Marco, my oldest brother, was a lot like Vicente. He enjoyed the suffering of others. I learned at an early age the only way to beat Marco was to pretend he couldn’t hurt me. I failed more often than I succeeded.

He was better at the game than I was.

Sometimes I thought only the devil could be more evil than my brother.

But I didn’t know my uncle as well, then.

The soldier boy pushes open the door on the right and jerks his head. A silent order to go inside.

“Thank you. What would I do without your instructions,” I mutter to the asshole as I breeze past him.

He murmurs something back, but it’s too low and in rapid Italian so I don’t understand it. I know the language, but it’s been so long since I’ve used it if it’s spoken too quickly, I have trouble.

Another strike against me, according to my brothers.

The door shutting behind me feels like the seal of a tomb being put into place. An ominous aura fills the space. The little hairs on my neck stand at attention.

My uncle stands at the center of the room. With his lush, thick, silver hair slicked back from his face and the tailored black suit clinging to his aging body, my uncle stares at me with the same cold stare Marco used to have.

A chill runs up my spine at an old memory flashing in my mind. I close my eyes and clear my throat, and it dissipates before it takes root.

“You wanted to see me.” I fold my hands in front of me, pressing my heels together, and roll back my shoulders.

“I did.” He nods. “Would you like to sit? It’s been a long day, and you’ve been on your feet for hours.”

I glance at the couch near him. He’s right. My feet throb inside these three-inch heels.

“No, thank you. I still have a lot to do. Everyone’s left, but I want to check on the caterers and there’s a few other things.” I’m rambling. “Father Steven has left; he wanted to me to let you know if you need him again to just call.”

His beady little eyes narrow a fraction. “I’ll be sure to do that.”

I let my shoulder drop. I bite back the questions tingling on my tongue. What does he want, and when is he leaving?

“Sienna. I have some news.”

I wait for him to continue, but he doesn’t. He just stares me down and suddenly I feel like I’m in a pissing contest with my seventy-five-year-old uncle, who probably hasn’t peed like a normal human in years.

“Oh?” I prompt.

“It’s regarding your future.”

My ears perk up; my entire spine stiffens.

“My future?”

“Yes.” He nods.

Whatever the news is, it will be bad. Marco had the same habit. When he was about to tell me something that would anger me or hurt me, he’d drag out the conversation. Releasing only tiny bits of information at a time.

He relished in the agony of others.

“Uncle Vicente. I really do have things I need to see to; can you please elaborate. What about my future?”

“Your marriage.”

My mind blanks. I think my heart stops for a moment. I’m not sure, because I’m trying to get my lungs back online first.

“Marriage? I’m not even dating anyone.”

His face contorts in a way that suggests I’ve said something disgusting. I suppose to him, a woman choosing who she enters into a relationship with is a revolting idea. The man’s ideology is as ancient as his appearance.

“I’ll get straight to the point. Your brothers made a mess of things with this stupid war they started with the Russians.” He unbuttons his jacket as he sinks into an armchair, crossing his left leg over his right. “And you’re going to have to clean it up.”

“What are you talking about?” There’s a sharpness to my tone, but I don’t have the bandwidth to filter it. My uncle is making no sense.

“Come now. I know you don’t know everything about the family business, but you were aware of what they were up to.”

“No.” I take a step forward. “I have no idea about what any of them were up to. I lived here and they lived there.”

Staying in New York put enough distance between us, sometimes I almost forgot about them altogether.

Marco’s decision to leave me behind while he took Michael and Tony to Chicago to ‘expand’ their business gave me a small taste of freedom.

I’m sure if he knew I saw it that way, he’d have dragged me with them.

His frown deepens. “I’m not going to argue with you. It’s enough for you to understand they caused a problem. Now that their stupid war is over, we’ve had to make concessions.”

“War? Concessions? I don’t understand anything you’re talking about. Are you telling me the men who killed my brothers want something else from us? Their lives weren’t enough?”

“There needs to be peace. Sometimes the oldest traditions are still the best way forward.”

“And marriage is the old tradition.”

“Yes. Your marriage. You’re going to be married to one of the Volkov’s, uniting our families. It will settle things completely and both of our families can go on with future plans to grow. It’s important not only to our family but for other families, as well.”

The underlying argument is this is over his head. He’s being told to fix what my brother’s broke.

And his grand solution is marriage?

I press my hand to my stomach; sure the luncheon we served after the funeral is going to make a reappearance.

“No,” I say firmly. “I’m not marrying anyone.”

His bushy, white eyebrow lifts. “You may have gotten away with your rebellious behavior with your brothers. The love they had for their little sister and all that, but you won’t be doing it with me.”

Love for their little sister? Bile rises up my throat.

“This man, he’s one of the one’s who killed my brothers, and you want me to marry him?” I can barely breathe.

“I want you to do what you’re told.” Spittle falls onto his lip.

He rises from the chair. His angry eyes lock on me as he makes his way to me.

“There are more things at stake here than you, Sienna.” He grabs hold of my arms. He’s not as weak as he looks. His nails dig into my skin through the sleeves of my dress.

“I want nothing to do with this. Whatever they did, or you did. You can deal with it on your own.”

“You don’t want anything to do with the family?” He sneers. “You say this while wearing the clothing this family’s money bought. Living in the house this family pays for. Eating the food this family feeds you.”

“I have my own money. A job. And I don’t need this house. I only stayed because Marco insisted.” As rebellious as my uncle thinks I was with my brothers, he’s wrong.

I should have been more brazen. Stood up to them more often.

“Ah. You do?” He shakes me then shoves me back a step.

I force myself not to rub the pain away from my arms.

“You think it’s enough?” His mouth kicks up in sinister smile.

Michael had the same grin. And just like when he would flash it, my blood goes cold.

“What about little Tommy?” He asks. Poison drips from the question. “Do you have enough for him, too?”

My throat tightens. He can’t be this cruel.

“Tony swore—”

“Tony is dead,” he snaps at me.

“You can’t—”

“I can do whatever I feel is necessary for this family. Because of your brothers we are in trouble. Because of them, trouble is knocking at our door.” He slashes his hand through the air.

“There has to be something else. A marriage? This man can’t want to marry me.”

“He’ll do what’s right for his family, as will you.”

“I don’t want this. I won’t do this.” I stand my ground. I’ll find a way. There’s always a way.

“You will.” He brings his face close enough I can smell the stench of the whiskey he’s been drinking.

I swallow hard. My insides shake. A bead of sweat rolls down my back.

“I won’t. This isn’t the old days. I don’t have to do this.”

He falls quiet for a moment. Hatred builds in his expression.

His steps are soft, but the crack of the back of his hand across my cheek is loud.

My ears ring. Tears flood my eyes, but I blink them back.

Working my jaw open and closed, I raise my chin.

“You don’t tell me what you will and won’t do. Your brothers fucked this all up, now you’re going to fucking fix it.” He points a finger in my face.

Rage trembles his lips. Whatever the problem is, he’s desperate to mend it. I’ve never seen his eyes so wild before.

“Think of Tommy. Of how horrible things can be for a boy like him.”

“He has nothing to do with any of this.” Not that being innocent would stop my uncle from using the six-year-old as a pawn.

“Choose, Sienna. Your little rebellion or his safety.”

My stomach twists. I’ve buried my brothers today. Three caskets lowered into the depths of the earth, but only now does my soul cry.

“You’ll leave him alone?”

He straightens up, running his hands over his hair, tucking back the little pieces that have fallen out of place with his rage.

“I’ll leave him alone.” He gives a firm nod.

As with the majority of my life, there is no true choice here to be made. No one protected me from the cruelty of my family, but Tommy has me. If this is the cost to keep him safe, I’ll pay it.

“Fine. I’ll marry this man.”

He claps his hands together and smiles. It looks almost pleasant. “Wonderful! I knew I could count on you to do what’s best for the family.”

“When?”

“End of the month.”

I nod. “Fine.”

“I will have it all arranged; you won’t have to lift a finger.” He touches my cheek, the spot he slapped. “You’ll need ice for that. You really shouldn’t push me.”

I pull away. “If there’s nothing else, I really do need to see to the caterers.”

“Of course. Off to the kitchen.” He steps back.

Turning on my heel, I take measured steps out of the office, making sure to close the door quietly behind me. His goons are still standing around. The one with the suit looks at my cheek, his jaw tightens. The other one’s mouth pulls up in a half smile.

Tears fill my eyes as I make my way through the house.

My brothers are dead.

Freedom was so close to me; I could almost taste it.

Now it has been ripped from me again.