Vicious Addictions (The Next Vicious Generation #1)

Prologue

Jude

Nineteen years old

“Damn it!” I groan in frustration as I gaze at the large entrance of the centuries-old manor, bustling with luxury cars dropping off party guests at its gate.

Just my luck—the day I finally muster up the courage to visit the Crane Estate is the same day the acclaimed mob boss decides to throw a party.

This is not how I had planned things out.

I arrived in England a week ago, and ever since, I’ve done nothing but practice what I would say to the Firm’s illustrious kingpin. Only when I was positive that I had my speech down pat did I rent a car and make the two-hour drive to his country estate in Kent. Little did I know that if I wanted a chance to speak with Victor Crane tonight, I would have to crash his goddamn party.

And when did crashing a mobster’s private shindig ever go down well for anyone?

Fuck my life.

If I were smart, I’d turn around and go back home before anyone sees me.

But then it hits me that home is an ocean away, not the hotel room where I’m currently staying.

And there’s a reason for that.

A reason why I left Chicago and am currently living out of a suitcase in London, of all places.

“Fuck it,” I say out loud before second-guessing myself any further and steer the car into the estate, passing its large iron gates and following the other vehicles ahead of me toward the entrance of the house.

Though, to be fair, the fucking thing looks more like a castle than a home to me.

But then, what did I expect?

Victor Crane is the only mobster I know who is a genuine English lord. To us mafiosi , he’s just another boss ready to get his hands dirty when the situation calls for it. But to the outside world, his noble lineage means that the blue blood flowing through his veins makes it nearly impossible for anyone to question his underground activities or shady business dealings.

It’s the perfect cover—one that Crane is clever enough to take full advantage of.

A man like that will see the practicality of my argument.

A rational man like that won’t be blinded by affection.

The worst thing that can happen is Victor showing me the door after I’ve stated my case.

No, the worst thing he could do is tell your father what you’ve been up to behind his back.

I shake my head, refusing to entertain that idea even for a moment, knowing that if I do, I’ll lose my nerve entirely.

Though if I’m honest with myself, it’s probably the most likely outcome.

The Cranes have had a long-standing relationship with the Romano family, long before I arrived on the scene. Victor’s loyalties will always lie with my father, and thinking otherwise is just plain stupid.

And I can be many things, but stupid has never been one of them.

Oh, no?

Then what do you call this?

Nope.

Not going there.

It all depends on how I broach the subject with him.

If I word my intentions correctly, I’m positive that Victor will see it less as a betrayal to the Chicago Outfit and more as assistance to the future heir of the famiglia .

These are the lies I tell myself as I hand over my car keys to a valet and enter the Crane home.

The moment I step into the manor, I’m enveloped by the strains of classical music, the gentle clinking of champagne glasses, and the boisterous chatter of partygoers, all elegantly dressed up to the nines.

My jaw ticks when a few guests cast disparaging glances at my simple vintage look, comprised of a white T-shirt, jeans, and a leather jacket. Amidst the sea of high-fashion attire, my laid-back look stands out like a sore thumb.

I square my shoulders and keep my head up straight, acting as if I have the same right to be here as everyone else. Their host might have formally invited them into his home, but my last name alone is an invitation to open any door.

Unfortunately, with so many people here and countless rooms to search through, it’s going to take me a hot minute to find the one man who hopefully has the answer to all my problems.

I scan almost every lavishly decorated room, weaving my way through the crowd in search of the lord of the manor. However, after an hour of searching, my determination begins to waver.

I grab a flute of champagne from a passing waiter and down it in one go, flustered at the thought of having to leave and try my luck again another day. Though it seems only right not to ambush Victor on the same night he’s celebrating, I’ve never been one to take defeat lightly.

I blame my mother for my stubbornness.

Lord knows that’s where I get mine.

If she had only allowed me to be who I always wanted to be, I wouldn’t even be in this situation. Instead, I’d be back home with my brothers and sisters in Chicago, learning the ropes of the family business.

But my mother has other plans for me. Plans that I don’t agree with.

She wants me to be a law-abiding citizen, one that contributes to the betterment of society rather than exploit its shortcomings. An honorable man with scruples and dignity. Someone who doesn’t have to look over his shoulder twenty-four-seven, fearing his enemies might gun him down.

Yet, the man she chose to marry and build a family with is the very definition of honorable, despite being the Outfit’s Capo dei Capi . It’s hypocrisy at its worst. My mother advocates ideals and principles that she herself doesn’t uphold.

A part of me understands where she’s coming from. I know my mother would sleep much better at night if I had some safe, lame-ass, white-collar job instead of coming home with blood on my clothes after a hard day’s work. But what she can’t comprehend is that all I’ve ever wanted was to live up to my birthright and embrace the legacy that defines me.

To say that her wishes for me have strained our relationship is the understatement of the century. Because of her unwillingness to give me her blessing and just let me live my life as I see fit, we’re not exactly on speaking terms right now.

How could we be when she’s been the driving force standing in the way of me and my aspirations?

Make no mistake… what Selene Bianchi Romano wants, she gets.

My father wouldn’t have it any other way.

Victor is the only way I can show my family that I have what it takes to be inducted into the famiglia. That I can follow in my father’s footsteps without corrupting the morals my parents hold so dear.

He’s my only shot.

As I continue to peruse through the house, I realize that the majority of the party is taking place in the back garden.

As I step outside, I take a minute to admire the traditional English garden, where the cool night air offers a welcome reprieve from the sweltering heat generated by all those bodies packed inside the manor. Soft laughter and music drift from the crowd of elegant guests, their silhouettes dancing under the moonlight. Once again, I scan the large gathering for its host, hoping to spot him among the frolicking elite, only to come up empty-handed.

“You’re not supposed to be here, are you?” I hear a soft, feminine voice ask behind me.

Fuck.

Busted.

I turn around and find a young girl with large gray eyes staring up at me with unabashed curiosity.

“And what makes you say that?” I counter with a forced smile.

“An American,” she muses after my accent gives me away. “Now I know you’re not supposed to be here.”

She plays with the end of her long, raven-black hair while eyeing me up and down as if I were a rare artifact locked away in a glass display case of a museum for her to admire. Like everyone else in the crowd, she is dressed in high couture. However, her youthful features stand out among Victor’s over-forty-something guests list.

“Oh yeah? Maybe I could say the same about you,” I accuse with a firm voice, trying to mask my discomfort at being caught in her unwavering gaze. “This doesn’t seem like your crowd, kid. How can I be sure you’re not the one who’s here uninvited?”

Instead of annoyance, the brat’s smile just grows wider.

“Because all of this…is supposed to be for me. You just crashed my sweet sixteen birthday party, cowboy.”

Damn it.

“You’re Victor Crane’s daughter,” I state gruffly, more as a declaration than a question.

“Lady Mina Crane, at your service.” She smiles teasingly as she takes a tiny bow for dramatic effect. “Now that you know who I am, how about you tell me who you are before I call the dogs?”

“Dogs?” I echo, doubting she would call for such fierce animals to disrupt her party or harm her guests.

“Yes, dogs,” she says confidently, her gaze darting toward the various well-armed security guards dressed in black.

Fuck.

Making a scene and ruining Crane’s only daughter’s birthday party will not go down well with the Firm’s boss. All my chances of learning under him would go out the window if I did anything to ruin this lavish affair.

“No need for that,” I retort, hating that I’m being blackballed. “We wouldn’t want to ruin your party, now would we?”

To this, Mina lets out a little self-deprecating laugh.

“Does it look like I care? This party is for Daddy. Not me. Honestly, kicking anyone out would be the highlight of my night.”

My brows furrow at her reply.

Not only does she talk like a grownup, but she sounds bitter like one, too.

If this party is any indication, Mina Crane—or Lady Mina Crane, as she made a point to emphasize—likely spends most of her time with adults, which would explain why she talks like one.

But she’s still a kid.

Is it any wonder that she doesn’t seem thrilled to be celebrating her birthday with this stuffy crowd instead of teenagers her own age?

It almost makes me feel sorry for her.

Almost being the keyword here since I can’t forget she wants to ruin her party by throwing my ass out on the curb.

I can’t let that happen.

“I think we might have gotten off on the wrong foot. I’m Jude,” I finally announce. “I’m a friend of your father’s.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Are you calling me a liar?” I tilt my head slightly, lifting one brow.

“Indeed, I am.”

My jaw clenches at the smug grin on her face.

“Well, you’re wrong. I’m not a liar.”

“Fair enough. Let’s put it to the test, shall we?”

And before I know it, she slides her hand into mine and pulls me into the crowd. The importunate girl is quick on her feet, and before I can ask where the hell she is taking me, we stop behind a larger-than-life man who is laughing away at something one of his friends said.

“Daddy,” she calls out in a sweet-as-molasses tone to capture her father’s attention.

The man turns around, and I instantly recognize him as the Boss of the Crane Firm.

“There she is. The light of my eyes,” Victor sings, his gaze affectionately looking at his daughter. “Having fun, sweet pea?”

“Don’t I always, Daddy?” she says, clearly hesitant to admit that parties like this one bore her to tears.

“Good. I’m glad.” His gaze then shifts to his daughter’s hand, still clasped tightly in mine. “And I see you’ve made a new friend.” I quickly pull my hand away from Mina’s and extend it toward Victor’s for a proper handshake.

“Mr. Crane, it’s an honor to see you again.”

“Again?” He cocks his bushy eyebrows up. “And where did we meet, lad? I’m usually not one to forget a face.”

His handshake is strong, but I don’t falter under his grip.

“We met at my parents’ wedding, sir.”

“Did we, now? And who, pray tell, are your parents?”

“Vincent and Selene Romano.”

Victor’s eyes widen at the mention of my parents, his lips cresting into a large smile.

“Little Jude, as I live and breathe! My, how you’ve grown. The last time I saw you, you were just a boy. But look at you now—a grown man. Has it really been that long?”

I don’t say anything to his praise since it somehow makes me feel like I’m still a child.

“Nine years, to be precise, sir,” I reply instead, squaring my shoulders to look bigger.

Mina covers her mouth, but it’s not enough to muffle the little troublemaker’s giggle.

“Come to think of it, Vincent did tell me you were attending King’s College this year, but I had no idea you were already here. Don’t classes only start in September?”

“I came a couple of weeks early to settle in, sir,” I inform politely.

Crane doesn’t need to know that the real reason why I arrived early was because I couldn’t stand another day fighting with my mother and father back home.

Too many harsh words have been said already.

If I stayed, it would have only gotten worse.

“Ah, of course. And how are you finding things? Enjoying London so far?”

I nod, even though I haven’t seen much of it since I’ve spent most of the week preparing what to say to him.

“Well, you picked quite a night to pay us a visit. As you can see, we’re celebrating my sweet pea’s birthday. But I’d love to talk to you in the morning. How about you spend the night here, and you can tell me tomorrow over breakfast how your father has been? Mina, will you see that Agatha fixes a room for Jude?”

“Of course, Daddy.” She smiles, sliding her hand into mine again.

“Actually, I’d love it if I could talk to you privately tonight if that’s all right?” I say, shaking Mina’s hand away from mine and gaining a scowl from her father in return.

His well-tempered demeanor morphs into a stone, giving way to the Don of the Crane crime family to surface.

“Tomorrow morning, you’ll have my attention. Tonight, my invited guests hold that honor. Is that understood?”

Fuck.

“Of course. My apologies,” I say in defeat, letting Mina grab my hand again and pull me away from her father.

“Count your blessings,” Mina warns when we’re no longer within earshot of her father. “You got him on a good day. Daddy isn’t a fan of insubordination.”

“I wasn’t trying to be rude,” I grumble, pissed that I made such a bad first impression on Crane.

“Lucky for you, he knows that. If he hadn’t… let’s just say that he’s killed men for less,” Mina states evenly, as if taking a life didn’t faze her in the least.

My baffled expression must say it all because she begins to giggle.

“You should see your face, cowboy.”

“Quit calling me that,” I say, perhaps a bit too loudly, drawing unwanted attention from the guests. I quickly lower my voice and continue, “And excuse me if I’m not accustomed to hearing a child discuss her father’s killing sprees so nonchalantly.”

Mina stops mid-step to look me square in the eye and says, “I am not a child.”

“You just turned sixteen. That makes you a kid in my book.” I scoff.

She places her hands on each side of her hips and stares me down.

“You should know better.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Didn’t you just tell my father that you’re the great Vincent Romano’s son?”

“I am.” I straighten my spine at the mention of my father.

“Then you should know better than anyone that kids in line to the throne don’t get to be children for long. We forfeited the right the day we were born.”

Great.

Not only did I look like a total ass in front of Crane, but now I’m being reprimanded by his teenage daughter.

But Mina’s not wrong.

No matter how much my mother tried to protect me and my siblings from the mafia world, its influences always managed to seep through the cracks and overrun our lives.

If they hadn’t, then my mother would have gotten her wish of me being just another normal .

“You’re right. You’re absolutely right. I’m sorry I called you a child. It won’t happen again.”

Mina’s gray eyes widen a bit like I just grew a second head.

Fuck.

“Great. What did I say now?” I ask, flustered by her stare.

“Nothing,” she replies, chewing on her lower lip, her confusion lingering. “It’s just… I don’t hear the word ‘sorry’ very often.” Her curious expression then shifts to one of caution. “If I were you, I wouldn’t say it again. A capo never apologizes… for anything.”

“Good thing I’m not a capo then,” I respond with a chuckle, needing to lighten the mood.

“But you want to be one, don’t you? Otherwise, why would you be here?”

Because I don’t just want to be a capo … I want to become Capo dei Capi someday.

And Victor Crane is going to teach me how.