Chapter 1
Luciano
We’re halfway across campus when someone calls out for my mother.
“Mrs. Romano! Mrs. Romano!”
We all turn in tandem to see Sister Agnes hurrying toward us, breathless from her sprint.
Here’s the thing about nuns.
I don’t like them.
Nuns and I? We don’t mix.
It could be because most of the nuns that have crossed my path have been a major pain in my backside. Or perhaps it’s due to my belief that their sexual frustration makes them bitter old hags who love nothing more than to lash out at the world. However, the more likely scenario is that I despise them simply because I have zero respect for authority.
Well—except for my father, that is. No one fucks around with Vincent Romano.
But that’s neither here nor there.
Me plus nuns equals bad luck.
And my nickname is Lucky. You see the problem.
But Sister Agnes? She’s different.
She’s not as uptight as the rest of them. She can take a joke. I know for a fact that she finds her altered habit hilarious. When she pulled Enzo and me out of class earlier so she could march us to Mother Superior’s office, it had been a struggle for her to keep a straight face.
She gets it.
And more importantly than that, she gets Enzo and me.
And it’s because she does, Sister Agnes is the only nun who actually gets my respect.
“Thank you for waiting,” she says between breaths once she’s reached us.
“Is everything alright?” Mom asks, instantly on guard, probably worried that Mother Superior somehow found the proof of our misdeeds and sent Sister Agnes to fetch us to deliver her sentencing.
“Actually… could we speak somewhere more private?” Sister Agnes gestures toward the school’s chapel. We follow her lead, and once inside, she relaxes at the sight of the empty pews. “I feel more comfortable discussing sensitive matters here, away from prying ears,” she adds, closing the door softly behind us.
That’s the other thing about Sacred Heart. Instead of homeroom, we’re forced to attend mass every morning. It’s a killjoy way to start the day. But aside from that miserable first hour—when Father McDonagh preaches about us being all sinners in his eyes—no one comes here willingly. Which explains why the chapel is deserted.
Now fully at ease, Sister Agnes turns to my parents, giving them her full attention.
“My apologies for Mother Superior’s stern demeanor. I assure you, her intentions are rooted in care. She has had to adopt a firmer approach with the twins’ recent antics. While this may be harsh, it’s important to understand her perspective—the twins haven’t exactly made her life easy over the years.”
“The same could be said about her. Sister Margaretta could’ve let them skip a few grades like my husband suggested years ago. If she had, they’d already be in college, and none of this would be a problem.” Mom frowns, clearly done with anything and everything pertaining to the Mother Superior.
“That’s true.” Sister Agnes smiles apologetically. “The twins should have been off to college long ago. They more than have the grades for it. But may I be so blunt to ask why you didn’t enroll the twins in a different school? You could have easily fixed the boys’ problems, too.”
“If life was that simple. Unfortunately, my children are as stubborn as their father.” Mom sighs. “Transferring to another school would mean admitting defeat, and neither Enzo nor Lucky knows how to do that. I’m afraid none of my children do.”
“That’s what I thought.” Sister Agnes nods understandingly. “However, I worry that Sister Margaretta has that same flaw. Stubbornness, as well as pride, can be blinding. And in the twins’ case, prejudicial.”
Dad narrows his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, today might have gone in your favor, but that doesn’t mean Mother Superior will stop looking for any excuse to either expel them or hold the twins back another year, just to—”
“Fuck with us?” I cut in, already seeing my life flash before my eyes.
“Teach you a lesson in humility,” she corrects with a little smile.
Mom’s gaze sharpens, as well as her claws, ready to protect her cubs from any threat.
“Well, she can’t expel them if they behave for the rest of the year, now can she?”
“No, she can’t,” Sister Agnes agrees. “But she can keep them from graduating. Luciano, especially.”
“The fuck? Why me?” I throw my hands in the air in disgruntlement.
“Because you haven’t completed your community service hours, Lucky,” Sister Agnes explains patiently, not one bit bothered by my cursing. “That’s part of every student’s graduation requirement.”
“What if I don’t believe in charity? Sister Margaretta can kiss my—”
Smack.
I barely have time to finish the sentence before Dad slaps me across the head.
“ Basta, ” he mutters. “Listen to Sister Agnes. Can’t you see that she’s trying to help you?”
“I really am.” Sister Agnes nods. “Enzo worked in the soup kitchen all his junior year, so he’s covered. But you, Lucky? You haven’t even made a dent in the hundred hours that are mandatory to graduate. You must do something to fill that gap before Sister Margaretta uses it against you.”
“What do you suggest?” Mom asks worriedly.
“Well, there’s no question Lucky is one of the brightest students this academy has ever seen. Having said that, maybe we could use his intelligence to help the student body instead of coming up with new ways of making them laugh.” She grins widely. “I was hoping he might consider tutoring some of his classmates to help them graduate. That way, Sister Margaretta wouldn’t have anything to use against him come graduation time. And who knows, it might even win him some favor with her, too.”
“Like I give a damn about that old hag’s approval.” I scoff.
“Lucky!” Mom scolds, having had enough of my lip. “I’m sorry, Sister. I don’t know what’s gotten into this boy lately.”
Sister Agnes waves a hand dismissively. “It’s quite alright, Mrs. Romano. I understand why Lucky and Enzo have a strained relationship with Mother Superior. She hasn’t exactly been their biggest fan, either.”
“Well, at least you like us.” Enzo winks, causing Sister Agnes to fight back a laugh.
I roll my eyes because I’ve seen this show before—Enzo oozing his charm, while Sister Agnes never takes his flirtatious nature to heart, preferring to laugh it off instead. Good thing, too, because my twin wouldn’t think twice about fucking her.
See, this is where my brother and I differ.
He likes nuns. Loves them, in fact.
Loves how many he’s corrupted.
The minute we turned eighteen last January, he pulled his sights away from high-school girls and directed it to the teaching staff, who, you guessed it, are all nuns.
Plenty have been transferred to other schools or convents after Enzo defiled them in ways that would make a saint blush.
And we’ve already ascertained that I hate nuns, excluding Sister Agnes. But just because I like her doesn’t mean I’d fuck her.
Like me, Enzo is all about the challenge.
However, when it comes to who we fuck, we couldn’t be more opposite.
Enzo is an equal-opportunity kind of guy when it comes to his sexcapade partners. But if they don’t make him work for it, he loses interest fast.
Me? I prefer easy pickings.
You know, the kind of girl who falls onto your lap and lets you do every dirty thing imaginable to her simply because of who your family is. Yeah, that’s my bread and butter. Life is hard enough without having to work for some ass.
Fuck that.
The easier, the better, if you ask me.
But I digress.
“Tutoring? You want me to tutor?” I repeat, the word itself giving me hives.
“Yes.” Sister Agnes has the gall to nod and smile.
“Fuck that,” I say, crossing my arms. “Not doing it.”
“Lucky,” my mother counters, already tired of my shit. “If not tutoring, what do you propose?”
“Anything but that. I’m not spending hours of my free time tutoring some loser. There has to be something else I can do. Maybe I can tag along with Enzo on his soup kitchen runs?”
“I’m sorry, Lucky, but those charity slots are in high demand, and there’s already a long waiting list,” Sister Agnes informs me, looking disappointed in my lackluster response. “Tutoring is the only thing you can do that your classmates cannot. Think it over. If you come up with an alternative, by all means, let me know. Just consider it, okay?”
She throws me another little smile and then bids my parents farewell, leaving us alone in the chapel.
“She’s right, you know? Sister Margaretta won’t make your life easy. Especially since it’s our senior year. If she can prevent you from graduating just to mess with you, she will,” Enzo warns.
“I guess you have a lot to think about,” my mother adds. “You can either take Sister Agnes’s advice or face Sister Margaretta’s wrath. One thing is for sure, Luciano—the next time you get into trouble, it will be your father, Vincent, who comes to talk with Mother Superior. And if she pushes his buttons and he retaliates, just know you’ll only have yourself to blame.”
I laugh at that. “Dad wouldn’t whack a nun.”
But when Gio and my mother share a look, all the blood drains from my face.
“He wouldn’t… would he?”
“Let’s just say Sister Margaretta has tested his patience one too many times over the years,” Gio warns, the underlying threat in his words unmistakable.
Mom pinches the bridge of her nose again, likely attempting to banish from her mind the image of my father with a nun’s blood on his hands.
“That won’t happen because you won’t allow it, will you, Lucky?” She stares into my eyes. “You’ll do something… anything to get in Mother Superior’s good graces. Even if that means tutoring your classmates. Is that understood?”
Kill me now.
Either I give up my free time to teach some idiot things that feel like child’s play to me, or I risk Sister Margaretta feeling the full weight of my father’s wrath. Moments like these make me wish I wasn’t raised Catholic. That way, I wouldn’t have to believe in hell or fear that my rebellious antics could possibly send my father straight there.
I mean, killing wise guys is one thing.
Killing a nun?
Yeah, that shit is bound to leave a mark on a soul.
Fuck me sideways.
This is some manipulative bullshit right here.
And worse… it’s fucking working.
When we arrive home, we find Annamaria and Stella huddled together over a laptop in the living room, their attention shifting from the screen to us.
“So, what did Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum do now?” Stella goads as my mother breezes past, heading straight for my father’s office, likely to brief him on Enzo’s and my latest clusterfuck.
“Nothing that concerns you, young lady,” our dad, Gio, deflects, placing a sweet fatherly kiss on the top of her head, followed by another on Annamaria’s before heading after our mother.
“Fine, don’t tell me. I’ll hear about it eventually.” She winks at Annamaria, who recently started attending high school with us at Sacred Heart.
It comes as a surprise to both Enzo and me that Annamaria hasn’t yet revealed our latest prank to Stella. She tells her everything and vice versa. If Stella doesn’t know about what we did to the nuns’ habits, then it’s probably because my baby sister didn’t think we were behind the stunt.
She’s innocently naive that way.
Always thinking the best of people.
Poor kid.
If she weren’t a Romano, the world would eat her alive.
Thankfully she is, so no one dares fuck with Annamaria. They know her older siblings wouldn’t think twice in putting two to the chest of any motherfucker who dared hurt her.
“What are you two up to?” Enzo asks, trying to move the topic of conversation away from us and onto them.
Smart man.
“Stella’s helping me find the perfect dress for homecoming,” Annamaria says shyly, her long, blonde hair almost covering her entire face as she points to the dresses on the screen.
“Who the fuck asked you to go to homecoming?” I ask, not liking the idea of some asshole asking her out.
“Why does Anna have to wait for some boy to ask her before she can attend a stupid dance?” Stella counters, with both hands perched on her hips.
“Don’t tell me she’s going stag,” Enzo says, horrified.
Of course, my twin would be mortified to attend anything without a date.
The last dance we went to, he had not one, but two girls under his arms. And the year before that, he took the Costello brothers—all fucking four of them.
Yeah.
My brother is a huge ass slut. With a capital S. But at least he owns it.
“Please tell me you’re not thinking of going on your own to your first dance, bella? ” Enzo repeats, this time with a little more tact.
“Well, I was …” Annamaria chews her bottom lip. “Not sure I should now.”
“Don’t be silly, Anna. You should go and have fun,” Stella coos at her while giving Enzo her evil eye.
“But Enzo’s right. No one has asked me yet,” Annamaria mutters softly, her previous excitement completely vanished.
“And they never will,” I add my own two cents while making a show of plopping onto the couch. “No one is going to ask the Romano principessa to homecoming or any other fucking dance. Not when they risk having their balls cut off.”
“Lucky!” Stella chastises. “You just had to ruin other people’s fun. It took me forever to convince Anna to go.”
“I don’t know, Stella. Maybe Lucky is right. Everyone in my grade already has a date. It would look weird if I showed up alone. I can go next year,” Annamaria says, shutting the laptop. “That is, if anyone asks me.”
I watch her leave the room, Stella glaring at me as if the only balls in imminent threat are mine.
“Asshole,” she mutters before rushing after a crestfallen Annamaria.
“That was shitty of you, brother,” my twin scolds with a frown.
“What? You didn’t like the idea of her going either.”
“I never said that. I just didn’t like the idea of Anna going to a school dance alone.”
“Exactly.” I point to him. “You know what kids at Sacred Heart would say if she showed up without a date. This way, I protected our sister from being the laughingstock of the whole school. Sue me if I’d rather she hate my guts than become a social pariah.”
“You know Anna couldn’t hate you even if she tried.” He chuckles.
“Stella doesn’t seem to have that problem.”
“That’s because Stella hates everyone.” Enzo grins as he flops onto the couch beside me. “Still, it would have been nice for Anna to mingle with some normals. Maybe even get her first kiss or experience her first crush. It fucking sucks that all she knows is the life. ” He eyes the four walls that we call home. “If anyone deserved a bit of normalcy, it’s Anna.”
“And what’s so bad about our life? ” I arch a brow.
“Maybe that it isn’t for everyone.” He shrugs.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Nothing,” he replies, tilting his head back against the couch’s headrest.
When a long stretch of silence falls, I know his mind is no longer on our baby sister’s dilemma and is instead focused on the shitshow that happened at school with Mother Superior.
“So, what are you going to do?” he finally asks.
“About?”
“Graduating.”
I exhale sharply. “You want my honest answer?”
“You never lied to me before.” He elbows my side, trying to lighten my mood.
“I fucking don’t know what I’m going to do, but tutoring some dumb jock isn’t happening.”
“Stereotype much? Why do you assume it’ll be a jock?”
“Come on. Who else would need tutoring?”
“Plenty of students need help with all sorts of classes. I’m not bragging, but not everyone is as smart as us, you know?”
“You sound like you’re bragging,” I smirk.
“Okay, maybe a little.” He grins. “Still, it’s your fault for not putting in the hours. I told you not doing your community service would bite you in the ass eventually.”
“So you did,” I grumble. “I’ll figure something out.”
“You better. Or it’s your ass. Remember, Dad won’t let us initiate into the Outfit without at least a high school diploma. It’d suck balls if I had to take the omertà without you.”
A chill runs through me.
Shit.
He’s right.
Dad won’t let us initiate without it.
And if my mother has her way, we’ll need a college degree first, too. Just like she made Jude get his before he made the oath.
Sure, Marcello didn’t need a college degree, but Marcello was always meant for the Outfit. Unbeknownst to the rest of us, that had been our father’s plan from the start.
Shit.
If Enzo takes the omertà without me because of Sister Margaretta, Dad won’t have to kill her since I’ll murder her myself.
Fuck!
I pull out my phone in desperation and text the one person who might have some advice. The only adult in my life that actually tells it like it is.
Me: So… I fucked up. Last prank we pulled on the nuns went too well. Now, I might not graduate.
Me: No degree = no omertà . What do I do?
I don’t have to wait long for three dots to start bouncing up and down on the screen.
Remus: That depends. How bad do you want to be made?
Me: It’s my destiny, dude. So pretty fucking bad.
Remus: Then grow a pair and do what needs to be done. Fix your shit.
Me: Even if it’s gonna suck ass?
Remus: Even if your life depends on it. Stop being a wanker and handle your fucking business.
See?
What did I tell you?
Remus always tells me what’s what.
It’s not his fault I don’t like his answer.