Mine to Break (Savage Kings of Tessari #1)

Chapter 1

Carmine

The darkest night of the year in the northern hemisphere is December twenty-first. The chill has long since set into the air by then, and the Christmas decorations are strung up all around town, but it is the winter solstice that truly tells us winter has arrived and it’s here to stay for several more months.

Month after fucking month of glittering tinsel and twinkling lights that glare into my eyes night after night until I have a headache that won’t go away until they do. Maybe not even then.

Just another year of listening to the laughter of children, children who have no idea how truly harsh the world is, and what may be left for them by the time they grow up.

Another smile faked, another present that no one really wants.

Everyone continues to pretend, even here, in this house of poison and greed, that they truly care about the holidays.

This night, though, I can hardly stand to watch another one of my brothers straighten a stocking on the mantle of the family room.

“Come on, Carmine, you have to hang your stocking or La Befana will get you!” Tommaso, my middle brother and general pain in my ass, teases me from across the room.

“Let the old hag try,” I snip back at him. I suck down the rest of a glass of bourbon before shoving it at his chest as he steps closer to me. “I’m not in the mood, Tommy.”

“Oh, fuck you, you’re never in the mood,” he curses at me, brow furrowed, eyes lit with a fire that rarely isn’t there. He’s always trying to stir up a fight. He practically lives for it.

I roll my eyes and turn away from him.

“I’m not your maid, dickhead.” Glass shatters on the wall in front of me just to the right of my head. My shoulders tense for just a second or two, and my blood runs cold. Not boiling hot like his.

“Mother bought those glasses,” I tell him, voice low. A warning. I don’t turn to look at him, because I’m certain if I do I won’t be able to stop myself from throwing him across the room.

“Your mother, not mine,” he hisses like it’s some major dig.

I turn around on my heel and lurch forward at him, grabbing him by the collar of his ugly polo shirt. “Tell me, Tommy, do you wish we weren’t brothers at all? Cause I can make that happen.”

Tommy squirms against my hold and grabs my arms at the wrists. “I can make it happen faster, Carmie, ya self-righteous little bitch,” he growls.

I growl back at him, but it comes from much deeper in my chest. I stare into his eyes like a viper preparing to strike. Every bone in my body screams at me to finally teach him the lesson he needs to be taught. That he can’t mess with whoever he wants to and get away unscathed.

“You really want to do this?” I ask him quietly. My face doesn’t crinkle and crumple under the weight of my anger like his does. I can see the reflection of my eyes in his, and they’re like ice. “I’ll come out of it with some scratches, little brother, you’ll be missing your head.”

Tommy’s eyes widen and though I see how badly he wants to continue, he lets go of my arms and shoves himself away from me. I let go of his shirt, allowing him to put distance between us.

“Are you two idiots done measuring your cocks?” Tiberi asks us from his place on the sofa across the room. I glance over at him. He’s holding a book on his lap, pages kept open with his fingers, and an eyebrow raised in annoyance.

“Mind your business,” I quip. I watch him go back to reading. I look to Tommaso. “Clean up your mess before father—”

Gunshots explode through the air. Despite the sound being muffled by the walls of the large house, I can still hear the crack and pop of a bullets being fired nearby.

While Tiberi’s first instinct is to drop his book and make his way to the gun safe where more powerful weapons are locked up, I immediately bolt out of the room and down the hallway.

I have no idea what Tommy is doing, if he’s following behind me or not, and I don’t care.

They were in the room so I know they’re safe.

It's everyone else that’s unaccounted for.

I have my pistol pulled out from my belt line so fast that I don’t process it until it’s in my hand, the safety off, and pointed in front of me.

“What the fuck is going on?” I shout, not caring if whoever is here hears me. They have to know I heard them.

As I rush toward the door to my father’s office, a guard by the name of Lukas is rushing over as well. “Where the fuck were you? You’re supposed to be watching the door?” Grab him by the shoulder and shove him out of the way of the partially open door.

“Shit, fuck. I was—I I was taking a fucking piss, Cassian said he’d cover me,” Lukas insists. I kick the door open the rest of the way and a gun shot ricochets off the door frame and past my head.

I look around the room and lock my eyes on the first form that I know doesn’t belong. My eyes aren’t the only thing locked on them. I shoot twice and hear a huff of pain.

“Carmine!” Cassian’s panicked voice breaks through the noise and distracts me.

Blood is everywhere and pain shoots through my left arm. I ignore the pain and drop to my knees on the floor. Lukas is behind me, scrambling like a fool.

“I’ll call an ambulance!”

“No!” I drop to my knees on the floor. A crumpled pile of a man lays on the floor with blood seeping from his head, his face, his chest…

The window to the right is smashed, and glasses crashes to the ground, I can see from the corner of my eye whoever had done this leap out of the window, cutting themselves on the jagged edges.

“Go after them you fucking moron!” I hiss at Lukas. “Cassian!”

“No, no,” Cassian is putting his hands all over him. “Dad. I’m sorry, I—”

“Stop touching him.” I shove Cassian’s hands away. His face is dripping in tears, but my chest is completely numb. Eyes dry.

I need to see all of his wounds. I need to see if he can open his eyes.

I don’t bother to check for breathing, because he has to be breathing. There’s no other option.

I pull my father’s suit jacket apart and start feeling around where the blood is coming from. All there is…is blood. I can hardly see his skin. The iron smell in the room is so thick that it permeates every part of my nose and throat. I can practically taste it.

“Carmine,” our father whispers. His voice is raspy and weak. Blood sputters up from his mouth and drips down his throat. “My son.”

“I’m here,” I tell him, and grab him by the back of his head. I can feel the gaping hole where the bullet exited the bottom of his skull. It’s wet and fleshy, shards of bone poke into my fingers. Still, I hold his head up so that I can look into his barely open eyes.

“I’m here, Father,” Cassian tells him. “I’m here too. I’m so sorry.” Cassian grabs one of his hands. I can hear our other brothers and the staff within the house running around. Gunshots outside. They’re all just background noise compared to right here and now with my father.

“Cas,” he mumbles. “I-I don’t want…”

I know what he’s trying to say. He doesn’t want Cassian to see him like this.

“You’re going to be okay,” Cassian tells him.

I look back into my father’s eyes as they start to become glossier.

“Carmine…protect…” father struggles to get the words out. Gurgles of breath between them. “Protect…our family.”

“I will,” I tell him. My other hand moves to his chest, and I slid my fingers up to the silver cross he’s wearing around his neck. It too is smeared with blood.

“Promise…” he begs as he gasps for air and fails. His eyes start to roll back in his head.

“I promise.” My throat grows tight, but I ignore the burning in my eyes. I shove the heavy ache back inside myself as deep as I can.

“He’s going to be okay,” Cassian whispers, as faint and sad as a ghost.

Father goes limp, and the crackling of breath in his lungs stops. I let his head rest down on the hardwood floor.

“No, he’s not.” I stare at him. The dead body of my father drenched in blood and gunpowder.

I’m not sure how long I sit there, how long Cassian is sitting there beside me.

A buzzing starts up in my ears, and anger wells up in my chest.

“See what you’ve done,” I tell him.

“What?” he asks me.

I snap. I reach over and grab him by the back of the neck. “This is your fault.” I shove him closer to our father’s corpse. “Look at him! He’s dead, because of you!”

Cassian fights against my hold, but he’s younger and much smaller than me. Not even an adult yet. In this moment, it doesn’t matter.

“Carmine, let go of him,” Alessio, my first brother, demands as he rushes into the room.

I feel his hands on the back of my shirt, shirt that’s now soaked in our father’s blood, and I fight against him as he tries to pull him up off the floor, but it’s of no use. I stumble onto my feet, taking Cassian with me, but not for long.

“Why was he watching father’s door anyway?” I huff, my hand slipping off his neck.

Cassian sinks back to the floor. The family doctor rushes in, pushing past us and moves to the floor as well.

“Why would Lukas let him take over?” I turn around and shove away from Alessio. “Cassian can’t handle this shit. He’s not made for this!”

“Get out of here, get some air,” Alessio tells me, shoving me further away.

I shove him back and look toward the doctor. “He’s dead, you can’t do anything,” I tell her, irritated that she’s even here. Or perhaps that she wasn’t here earlier. I know the truth though; there’s nothing she could have done.

The doctor, Beatrice, looked up at us with a forlorn but unsurprised look on her face. “He’s right. There’s nothing I can do,” she replied. “Even if I had gotten here earlier, his injuries were too serious.”

I squeeze my eyes shut and turn toward the door. The next thing I know, I smash my fist against the doorframe, causing the old dark wood to crack and splinter.

“Get the hell out of here, Carmine, we’ll take care of it,” Alessio insists.

“It’s not your job to take care of it, it’s mine,” I tell him, back toward the room. “It’s all on me now.”