Page 223 of Vicious Intentions
“I… I can’t. It’s going to break her heart,” he says somberly.
No shit, Sherlock.
“Then don’t do this. There has to be a better way.”
“You and Enzo are the geniuses of the family. Have you come up with a better plan?” he counters, his tone edged with accusation.
I shake my head.
It’s not for lack of trying. Since Marcello told me this harebrained scheme of his, I’ve been racking my brain trying to help my sister out of this clusterfuck.
I couldn’t give a flying fuck if it pissed off the Outfit or not. I say fuck ‘em. Annamaria is more important to us than those fat, gray-haired bastards ever will be.
But then Marcello explained that if we let Matteo go, the syndicate won’t just turn against him. They’ll turn against all of us. And seeing as my parents’ scandal has already tarnished the Outfit’s reputation, they’d love nothing more than to wipe every Romano off the face of the earth.
And I can’t let that happen. My Frankie is a Romano now. She’d be caught in the eye of the storm too. They’d kill her just for being tied to me. Sure, the Bratva would retaliate, but what good are the Petrovs to us if my girl and I are already dead?
Not only that, but I’ve got Darius to worry about too. He already carries more than enough scars from being abandoned at a young age. Frankie and I dying suddenly at the hands of the very syndicate I work for will only push him closer to the Bratva. And Sasha’s influence over him is already a point of contention between us.
Like hell I’m going to kick the bucket and leave Darius to be raised by Sasha’s psychotic ass.
No. I need to help Marcello win his uphill battle to prove he’s worthy of the throne. And letting Matteo live out a long life with my sister at his side is simply not an option.
Which means my baby sister is shit out of luck.
Fuck.
I hate this fucking life sometimes.
It always manages to turn something good into shit. And in this case, it’s fucking with my sister’s happiness. Just another reason why I’ll never take theomertà. Sure, when I was a kid, that was all I wanted. But I’m a man now, with a family of my own. One that includes a Bratva princess, no less.
The Outfit would always come second to my family, even if it can’t come second to Anna’s now.
My phone vibrates on my desk, a message from Enzo telling me he’s ready to get this show on the road.
“Okay, Boss. We’re all set. It’s your call. We can still stop this if you want. Russia isn’t so bad, you know? I’m sure Misha won’t be too upset if we all relocate there,” I joke.
“That’s not an option,” my brother says, glancing at his watch. Once he sees it’s a quarter to midnight, he nods, giving me the go-ahead.
“Merry fucking Christmas, Anna. I hope you know what you’re doing,” I say with a sigh before texting Stella.
We watch through one of the monitors Stella reaching for her phone. After reading my text, she looks at the camera and nods. Kirill and Kostya remain by the door while she enters the room where Annamaria and Matteo are holed up.
“Is it happening? Did it start?” my mother asks frantically, barging into the room with Frankie, Izzie, and Darius at her heels.
“Fuck! You told her, baby?” I blurt out when my dads, Vincent, Gio, and Dom, also appear behind them.
“She’s Anna’s mother, Lucky. She deserves to know what’s happening to her daughter.”
“Snitch,” I chuckle, but the joke, just like my laugh, falls flat.
Frankie throws me a sheepish grin before sliding onto my lap, Darius leaning against me while my mother stands watching the screens, my dads standing silently behind her. Izzie moves quietly to Marcello’s side while he remains rooted to the spot, never once taking his eyes off the monitors.
We hold our breaths as we watch Stella say something to Anna. The monitors can only show us what’s happening, not let us hear what they’re saying, which, under the circumstances, works in our favor.
“Oh, my poor girls,” my mother sobs as she watches Annamaria and Stella fall into each other’s arms. Stella whisperssomething into Anna’s ear before pulling away and rushing out the door. On another monitor, we watch her wipe at her tears as she heads for the stairs, Kirill and Kostya following her out of the club.
Everyone’s attention shifts to the screen showing Anna with Matteo, her saying something to him.
