Chapter 3
DANTE
My brother, Lorenzo, ignored me for the remainder of his going-away party.
Granted, I wasn’t exactly invited, but now he has no choice but to tolerate me in the same room as we wait for our boss, Luca, to enter his office in the Armani mansion.
My brother and I stand across from one another, and I purposely smile, noticeably pissing him the fuck off.
Good. That’s what little brothers are meant for, and besides, he’s just got his panties in a twist because I’m not living the life he explicitly wanted for me.
He thought he’d so perfectly mapped out my life, but I have every intention of making his a living hell. Well, as best as I can, anyway, even when he moves to Italy and I take up his post as Luca’s second and bodyguard here in New York.
It gave me great satisfaction to crash his party and lay eyes on his woman for the first time. A petite blonde woman named Lily Taylor. Objectively, she’s beautiful, but what caught my eye was the way my brother softened around her. Hell, he wouldn’t even let her hug me.
He’s possessive. Though that doesn’t surprise me; it actually infuriates me.
He’s built like a brick shithouse, and attractive in that perfectly trimmed, grumpy aesthetic way.
Women have always thrown themselves at him, but he’s barely been interested because he’s always been so focused on the task at hand.
And I never thought I’d see the day when he not only takes a liking to a woman but is practically owned by one.
What also surprised me was that Lily was wearing our mother’s wedding ring around her neck, which means Lorenzo has no intention of letting her go.
He’s always been a lone wolf. He never even had the time for me, not that I needed his coddling, but to see how he’s shaped a different life here… It disgusts me. Pretending to be something other than the monsters we were both raised to be.
How delightful for him. And I want to see it fall apart. Specifically, I want to be the one who burns it to the ground for him.
In the time that we’ve lived worlds apart, my brother has changed, if only around this one woman.
I, however, have not.
I lick my lips in anticipation of what’s to come. The bloodshed, the punishment, the money—being an integral part of the Italian mafia, as is my birthright. Finally, I’ll have the freedom to explore this monster within me.
Crashing Lorenzo’s party was only the start of my plan to undermine everything he’s built.
Honestly, his party wasn’t all that bad.
I'd enjoyed myself with some random chick that, dare I say, might’ve been the best fuck of my life—especially because the moment she was done riding my cock and using me, she got up and left.
If I had a heart, I might’ve been wounded. Instead, it left an impressive mark on me. Women I sleep with always become needy, wanting something more than what we agreed to. But not her.
No, she even stole from me.
A woman after my own heart.
I have the distinct feeling I’m going to have a lot of fun here in New York.
“You’ve thrown away everything you’ve worked so hard toward,” Lorenzo growls, and my smile widens, forming a single perfect dimple.
I was wondering how long it’d take him until he exploded. It’s so funny how the mask slips now that none of his domestic little friends surround him. I shrug nonchalantly, knowing it will irk him even further.
“Tell me, brother, did you genuinely think I’d become some world-renowned surgeon just because you have a moral compass about how many people you’ve killed?
Did you really think just because you left me alone in Italy and then shipped me off to London for college, that I’d let you continue to map out my entire life?
A life, might I add, that you never cared to be a part of. ”
Even from across the space of the impressive office, I notice his jaw grind.
It’s so funny how, in many ways, despite not having seen one another for almost ten years, Lorenzo hasn’t changed.
Nor has the stifled tension between us. No, it’s never been the same since our little sister, Milia, died, and Lorenzo killed our father.
But I suppose every family has their drama.
“Mapped out for you? I bailed your sorry ass out of deep shit and gave you direction,” he grits out.
“You think you were helping me? Oh, Lorenzo, that is too fucking cute.”
His hands ball into fists, and I can’t wait for him to snap and storm over here. I enjoy a good, bloody fight, but it’s always much sweeter winding up the other person to the point of explosion, especially when I kick their ass for it. It’s all in self-defense, of course.
“Is this all still some fucking game to you?” he growls, barely a thread of his control left. Unfortunately for my brother, he’s the person I enjoy winding up the most because his self-discipline is slow to crumble away, but once a raw nerve is exposed, it's explosive every time.
I ignore him now. The room has floor-to-ceiling wooden shelves on either side, filled with books, and I pretend to look them over curiously, whistling a tune to a song our little sister used to play from her music box.
“Stop that,” Lorenzo hisses.
“I’m not doing anything,” I reply, and continue to whistle.
The palpable tension becomes thicker, and I wonder how many more pokes I have until he snaps.
“I don’t understand. You were so close to finishing your residency and becoming a surgeon. How could you throw it all away?” He sounds almost desperate.
I shrug, pocketing my hands. It might’ve worked to his agenda that I studied into my mid-thirties, almost becoming everything he wanted for me. But I was done with pretending to be something I wasn't. “I was bored.”
Partly the truth.
“Bored? You—” His mouth shuts the moment Luca Armani steps into the room. Five men wearing white masks with different colored gems follow him. The hounds. His most lethal and loyal soldiers. They hide their identities, and only those highest in hierarchy actually know what they look like.
Luca walks through the room with the bearing of a king. Diavolo is what they call him in our native Italian tongue, and his reputation precedes him.
I wonder if my brother considers handling Luca's affairs from Italy as a downgrade to his status here. It is, in many ways, a promotion, but I’m sure it’s a harder pill to swallow when it’s me taking over his job.
The masked hounds watch me tentatively, and so I offer a cocky smile. The closest one to me with the red gem actually makes a noise in warning, and I can’t help but stretch my smile farther. Fantastic. Another one with a short fuse, which means he's easy to rile up.
Luca comes to a stop at the end of the room.
Standing at six foot four, behind his wooden desk, he effortlessly harnesses a predatory presence.
I envy him because of it since I’ve been forced to hide mine for so many years, dealing with patients and families, and making a favorable impression.
Whereas he’s been able to sharpen his canines.
I can’t wait to do the same, though I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t already been doing it in secret.
“As you’re all aware, Lorenzo will be dealing with my affairs in Italy. In his stead, I’ve found a replacement. This is Dante Moretti, his younger brother.”
The hounds' gazes remain on me, and I feel like I should give them a show, really give them something to talk about as they braid one another’s hair later and gossip about how attractive the new guy is.
“Haven’t seen him around,” one of them says.
“That’s because he’s been studying to become a surgeon in London. But make no mistake, he was raised to serve the Armanis, in the same household as Lorenzo.”
“You brought in a doctor?” one of them asks.
“Do you disagree with my judgment?” Luca growls.
“No, sir, but I am curious as to what background or first-hand experience he has to lead us,” the one with the brown gem says, and I take him as the top dog of the group—pun intended. He also seems to have a better tone when interacting with Luca.
“He’s been busy with first-hand experience of his own.” Luca looks pointedly in my direction. “Let’s just say when I’ve needed some jobs executed in Italy, he’s been very obliging to do them on my behalf.”
“What?” Lorenzo grits out.
I feel rather smug when my brother isn’t always in the know. Especially given who he’s dedicated his entire life to.
“I wish I could say it was the only time I’ve killed, brother. Well, since the massacre you had to help me ‘clean up,’ but let’s just say I’m not afraid to get my hands dirty.”
“Being a part of an organization is entirely different, working as a team—” Lorenzo starts to argue, but I cut him off.
“You think you play well with others? I’m here for a job. Either you all get on board with it, or you don’t. If you don’t, then it appears we have an issue,” I assert, stepping forward. “And I do like getting to the bottom of issues.”
The red-gemmed hound cracks his knuckles, and I can sense the barely-there leash.
It’ll only take one more shove, and I’ll be obliged to fight, which is precisely what I want.
The only way to deal with men like these is by showing them through force that I’m not to be fucked with, and that's precisely why they should be dropping to their knees before me in reverence.
“Enough,” Luca growls. “Deal with it in your own time. If I get blood on the carpets, Ara will be pissed, and I’d much rather keep my wife appeased.”
Then there's that: Luca’s pregnant wife. I’ve only seen his wife once, at Lorenzo’s going-away party. It would appear she’s good friends with Lily, and they have a blonde friend named Sienna. They discussed another woman, Romi, whom I never had the chance to see at the party.