Page 7 of Vicious Intentions
I keep my expression blank as he releases me from his hug, quietly mouthing the wordfriendsbefore turning away.
I watch him leave while Matteo lingers just long enough to shoot Stella a scathing look before his eyes return to me. There’s no pain in them anymore. Only hatred. Nothing but unadulterated contempt and loathing.
I made a friend and an enemy on the same day. I don’t know which one excites me more.
Chapter 1
Annamaria
Thirteen years old
It’s been forty-one days since I made my first friend. Forty-one days since I lost him, too.
All because Marcello killed Raffaele’s older brother, Carlo Jr., right after taking the omertá.
That’s why the Donatos left in such a hurry, and why Matteo looked at me as if I were the enemy.
My brother executed Carlo Jr. in cold blood, before a crowd of witnesses, as a warning to anyone who would betray the Outfit.
All of this I know from Stella. She’s the one who witnessed it all. I shudder to think about her involvement in the whole macabre situation.
And here I thought I had finally made a friend.
How could Raffaele ever be my friend now, when my family butchered his in such a way?
Maybe it’s wishful thinking on my part, or perhaps it’s because I’m so starved for connection that isn’t blood-related, but I carry his phone with me everywhere I go. Not that I go anywhere. Aside from school, church, and a few obligatory family outings and galas, I’m usually confined to our home.
I don’t mind it. I’m a homebody at heart. What I do mind is having no one to talk to who doesn’t share my last name.
I thought that someone could be Raffaele. The syndicate ruined any possibility of that.
Why, Marcello? Why did you have to kill his brother?
No. I can’t put the fault of what happened on Marcello’s shoulders. That wouldn’t be fair. He was only doing what was expected of him.
It was Raffaele’s brother who stepped over the line. Carlo Jr. was the one who tried to gain traction within the Cosa Nostra behind my father’s back, hoping to overthrow my family. He even enlisted the Bratva to help him, all while carefully covering his tracks so no blame would ever lead back to him if the plot unraveled.
However, Carlo wasn’t careful enough. My father got to him in the end. Learned of his treasonous ways and punished him for it.
I wonder how Raffaele is taking Carlo’s death. Badly, most likely.
How would I feel if someone came for one of my brothers? If they came for Stella and killed her in such a glorified way?
I’d be beside myself. I would curl into a ball and wish to die right along with her.
That kind of loss doesn’t fade. It scars you. It stays.
Raffaele will hate me for all eternity, and I can’t fault him for it. I’d probably hate him too if one of his came for mine. And by the look in Matteo’s eyes, I wonder when that inevitability will come knocking on our doorstep.
If standing up to Matteo made him an enemy, then my family’s actions must have created something far worse.
I saw the pain in Matteo’s eyes. He loved his brother. Maybe even idolized him. Looked up to him as an example of what amade manwas supposed to be. That kind of loss breaks something inside of you.
And men like him only think in straight lines. A pound of flesh deserves another pound of flesh. He’ll want vengeance. Of that, I have no doubt.
But my safety isn’t what weighs on me most. It’s the people I love—my family.
I just have to keep the faith that Matteo’s revenge will never touch a single hair on my loved ones’ heads. That his attempts to avenge his brother’s untimely death will never reach us.
