Page 5 of Vicious Intentions
The twins and Stella have used that notoriety to their advantage, wielding our name like a trophy to rule the halls and climb to the top of the social ladder. However, it’s been an entirely different experience for Marcello and me. Unlike our more extroverted siblings, we prefer to keep to ourselves.
Kindness isn’t most people’s first instinct when it comes to being different. What they don’t understand, they fear. And what they fear, they punish. Marcello learned quickly how to weaponize that fear. Better to be feared than ruled by it, I suppose. I, on the other hand, folded beneath it, which only made the other kids hate me more.
“Will you be going to college?” Raffaele asks, eyes still fixed on the screen.
I nod, though it’s too far away for me to really picture it, much less be certain of my answer.
“Let me guess. You’re going to go to the one closest to home?” He winks again, this time nudging his shoulder against mine.
“Probably.”
“Lame,” he laughs. “You should go somewhere else. Somewhere far away from Chicago. How else are you supposed to figure out who you are if you never leave?”
I wasn’t expecting to engage in such a serious conversation while playing video games, especially with a boy I had just met, one who belongs to a rivalfamiglia, but here we are.
“My parents would worry if I went to a school too far away.”
“So let them.”
I frown. “I couldn’t do that to them.”
“Sure you could,dolce angelo,” he goads teasingly, borrowing the endearment from my mother. “Don’t you have angel wings to match that pretty face of yours? I say you use them and fly as far away as you can the first chance you get.”
“But I love my family. I’d miss them too much.”
“Really?” he asks, surprised, flicking his gaze to me for a second before turning back to the TV. “I wouldn’t miss mine,” he says quietly, a shadow passing over his face. “The minute I can ditch New York, the better. Everything about it sucks.”
“Wouldn’t you miss your mom? Your dad and brothers?”
“Maybe my mom,” he admits, though sadness coats his voice. “Everyone else… not so much.”
I want to ask him what he means by that, but I don’t. I’m not half as brave with my questions as he is with his.
Raffaele doesn’t give the moment time to settle and jumps right onto his next invasive question. “Let’s talk about something else. You got a boyfriend?”
“I… I…”
“Well, that’s a no,” he chuckles, swerving his car on the screen to prevent a crash.
I chew on my lower lip, then say something I’ve never admitted out loud before, “I don’t have many friends. Actually… I don’t haveanyfriends.” I shrug in embarrassment. “Boyfriends kind of require being friends first, don’t they?”
“Yeah. I get that,” he says, his shoulders slumping. “I don’t have many either. Friends, I mean. It’s kind of hard to make friends when everyone’s scared of your family, right?”
“Yes. It is,” I mutter softly, thankful for his understanding when most people don’t.
Raffaele then pauses the game and turns to look at me, pure resolve now marring his handsome features. “We could be friends.”
I blink at him, my mouth falling open. “You mean… you and me?”
“Why not?” he says easily. “If anyone understands what we have to live with, it’s us. Makes sense we’d be friends, don’t you think?”
A friend. My heart warms at the idea of having someone who isn’t bound to me by blood. Someone who understands what it’s like to be not only the youngest sibling, but also what it means to be born into a criminal empire.
“I would like that. I would like that very much.”
“Damn, girl. Are you always this formal?” He laughs, eyes bright with mirth. “I’ll have to remember to loosen you up.”
Raffaele’s laughter is warm and inviting. I can’t remember the last time I felt so comfortable around anyone who wasn’t directly related to me. It’s nice. It’s more than nice. Something inside me feels a little less hollow.
