I’ll Burn Anyone (The Challenge Night Series Book 2)

by K. L Mann

  I suppose I feel the guiltiest about that though, lying to Arianna about her family's actual business. It’s not my place to say a damn word about it, but someone should. Lying never leads to positive outcomes. Ever.

  I’m crossing my fingers that her father will man up and tell her everything one day, or maybe Gio will man up and marry her.

  Maybe you could marry her, the pesky voice taunts.

  That’s a fucking thought for sure…

  Arianna wearing a ring I put on her finger, smiling through kisses against my lips, her stomach round with my baby.

  Jesus, snap out of it.

  I know the voice isn’t like a schizophrenic voice or anything like that. It’s more like the hopeful version of myself I buried deep trying to shine through. Another reason I shouldn’t be with her or think of her the way I do. I’m simply not good enough.

  Hell, I don’t know if anyone is good enough for Arianna, least of all me. I’m a killer who can’t even sleep properly because of childhood trauma. I’m a nobody who was built into a dark somebody. She deserves Prince Charming, not a demonic villain warming her bed.

  Turning on my heels, I stalk out of the kitchen and down to the gym to distract myself from the thoughts. This is going to be the longest three weeks of my life.

  Arianna

  Two hours pass, and I search Katherine’s closet for something hot. She has a lot of options, but I pick a red satin body–con dress with a v–neck. I have a set of red lingerie in my bag that will work well with it. Katherine and I wear the same shoe size even though she’s taller than me, so I steal a pair of her silver, sparkly open–toed pumps that have tiny cute ankle straps. I put the outfit on the bed and go to the bathroom to put on some more makeup.

  I fill in my brows, add a red lipstick, and some black winged eyeliner. It looks simple but hot. I tame blow out style waves into my hair with a curling iron, and then get changed. The outfit fits perfectly despite Katherine’s worries. I throw a couple of her tennis bracelets on and spray myself obnoxiously with vanilla body mist.

  It’s 10:50pm when my phone buzzes.

  Marco: I can pull in whenever you’re ready.

  He must be at the gate. It’s go time.

  Arianna: Pull in now, I’m coming.

  I carry my phone, shoes, and put my credit card in my bra to sneak downstairs. No one is in the foyer, and I don’t hear voices. They’ll see that I left on the cameras, but not fast enough to catch me.

  I rush out the door and shut it quietly behind me. Marco’s headlights let me know I’ve made it and I rush toward his car with bare feet. I open the door and swing myself inside.

  “Go, quick before they see us,” I urge, putting on my seatbelt.

  Marco laughs and pulls out of the driveway. His engine isn’t exactly subtle.

  “Well, if they didn’t hear me sneak out, they definitely heard your car.” I can’t help but giggle as I put on my shoes.

  “What are they gonna do? Yell at me for kidnapping my sister upon her request? I’m so scared,” Marco jokes.

  “Please, you’ll be fine. I’ll get crucified for wearing this dress though. Thank you very much, Katherine.”

  “They’re hypocrites, they’re the biggest sluts I know and they freak out when women they feel responsible for wear short dresses,” he shakes his head with a groan of disapproval.

  He’s quite the feminist, my little brother.

  I’ve heard the rumors. I know they sleep around. Still, it hurts my heart knowing that Gio gets someone else to keep him warm at night.

  It should be me, only me.

  “Screw them. Tonight, is about getting fucked up and having fun for a change.”

  “I’m down with that,” he says with a grin.

  “Good, I’m so over behaving.”

  Marco laughs and raises an eyebrow at me. “No more perfect princess Vitale?”

  “No, screw her. She was weak and meek and tonight I’m neither.”

  He nods and turns up the music so loud I can’t think about anything but the beat. We zoom through the city and pull up to the front of club Lucifer.

  The bouncers know us, they have for a long time. One of them takes Marco’s keys to park his car and the other one lets us in. Club Lucifer is the best spot for partying and everyone knows it. The red aesthetic, the music and the drinks are unmatched.

  The vibrant glossy red doors swing open in front of my eyes and the neon red lights consume me, taking me back to the first time I was allowed inside. My sixteenth birthday.

  Gio and Lorenzo took me in through the back and ushered me to the secluded VIP section upstairs like I was a celebrity. My wandering eyes took in everything. Every red accent, every tanned body under the neon lights, every alcoholic scent, and especially the intense energy radiating through the dance floor.

  “You’re not allowed to leave VIP,” Gio said, his arms crossed over his chest. The way his muscles outlined in his black button-down always had my mouth watering.

  “Worried about me?” I asked with a flirty smile, batting my lashes up at him.

  I decided that flirting with him was going to start as soon as I was 16. I couldn’t help my attraction to him anymore and as far as the law was concerned, I was a legal adult. Seeing him in his element, in the club he owned and ruled over only made the attraction worse. He was powerful, gorgeous and, as far as I was concerned, mine.

  “Stop looking at me like that,” he chastised, his voice low enough to keep the command private.

  “Make me,” I replied, my tongue traveling along the bottom of my lip.

  His eyes darkened. Even in the dim lighting I could see how I was affecting him. I wasn’t delusional. He wanted me. He may not have wanted to want me, but I was under his skin, exactly where I wanted to be.

  “Watch your tone,” he warned, his tone deeper than usual. “I’m not in the mood for your games, A.”

  A. Ugh.

  Marco calls me that. Not Gio.

  “Whatever,” I mumbled in return, tearing my eyes away like he stung me.

  Luca brought us all drinks and the rest of the night moved along. I watched people dance. I smiled and drank a little too much, but from that night on, Club Lucifer became etched in my soul.

  The stolen glances with my secret love, the intoxicating atmosphere, and the red.

  So much red.

  The music is loud, and the place is packed; the commotion pulling me out of my memories. I head straight for the bar with determination in my heart. Marco follows behind me as a few of his friends I recognize come up to him and they start chatting.

  For a black sheep, he’s always been the best at keeping friends. Sure, Lorenzo has Gio and Luca but that's pretty much it. Marco thrives in friend groups because he’s easy to get along with. People just gravitate toward him, even when he has his stoic dark style going on.

  I’m comfortable at the bar, walking up to it like I own it. Handing Tiff, one of the regular bartenders, my card, my optimism for the night boosts. “Hey girl, can you open a tab for me? Put my brother and his friends under it too, please.”

  “You got it. Love the dress by the way!” she yells over the music.

  “Thank you!” I blow her an air kiss and she smiles in return.

  Marco and his friends are standing behind me when I turn around. Offering them a smile, my body eases into the new environment. I’ve met them before, I think. Three guys, and two girls. I’m pretty positive it’s Leo, Aurora, Carmella, Matteo and Angelo. They’re like his little posse, we’ve met a few times here but I was with old high school friends so we didn’t hang out much. Now those old friends don’t even answer my texts, ironically.

  “Hey guys, tabs open if you want anything.”

  “Awesome, thanks. Arianna, right?” Angelo, the tall hot one asks.

  He could cut me with his jawline, it’s so sharp and his green eyes are beautiful. His hair is black and long pieces of it fall around his eyes. I’ve never really noticed him before though. We haven�
��t talked aside from one night, I don’t think. He was also black out drunk that one night so…

  Still, the way he’s looking at me right now makes me think he’d like to do much more than talk. And right now? Right now, I don’t care who shows me affection, I just need it.

  “Yeah, you’re Angelo?” I double check.

  “So you do remember me?” He gives me a devilish smile.

  My stomach flutters a bit, I can’t remember the last time it felt like someone was flirting with me.

  “How could I forget?” I flirt a bit back with a smile of my own.

  He’s not Gio, but he’s paying attention to me and it feels so fucking nice.

  Marco watches me closely, but doesn’t step in. I think he wants to, but he won’t. He’s not like Lorenzo, he doesn’t act like my father. Marco and the two girls order drinks. The other two guys are talking to each other, but Angelo is still standing with me. He’s wearing a white button down with the top few buttons left undone, dark red tapered pants and some kind of fancy sneaker I know nothing about.

  He looks good and we sort of match since we’re both wearing red.

  “Do you want a shot?” I yell over the music.

  He leans in closer to hear me and the tension builds. He moves his lips to my ear to speak instead of yelling. His soft breath touches the sensitive skin on my neck and gives me shivers.

  “A shot?” he double checks.

  His breath tingles my skin. He moves his ear closer to my lips.

  “Yes, shots,” I reply nervously.

  He leans back up and nods, smiling.

  “Hey Tiff! Can I get four shots of that orange vodka?”

  “Coming right up sweetie.”

  I smile instead of thanking her, she’s busy. The music quiets down for a minute.

  “So… you graduate this year?” I ask, not having a clue what else to talk about.

  “I graduated last year,” he corrects.

  He’s younger than me, but only by about a year. Not so bad, is it?

  “Oh, nice.”

  Tiffany sets the shots down in front of us and my body relaxes. Conversation isn’t exactly my strong suit considering I don’t get to have them often. Angelo and I each take two off the bar. We clink and shoot them one at a time. It barely burns as it goes down, it’s a dangerous shot, the orange flavor makes it so smooth.

  The two girls and other two guys move to the dance floor while Marco stays behind sipping his drink, watching them. On Fridays, Club Lucifer plays American hits, it’s like a tourist thing but a lot of regulars come too. Marco almost exclusively listens to American music. He has a pretty American vibe considering he’s never been there before. I’m almost positive he rejects Italy as a way of rejecting our family. He’s been an outcast since he was born.

  Champagne & Sunshine by Plvtinum comes on and my mood lifts about twelve levels. The song is so hot and perfect to dance with someone too.

  “Will you dance with me?” I ask Angelo, smiling ear to ear.

  “Definitely.”

  Angelo takes my hand and pulls me with him into the crowd of people dancing. My stomach flutters as the alcohol kicks in a bit, my skin feels hot. My confidence is sky high, so I don’t hesitate to turn around and put my body against Angelo’s. My back slides against his torso and he dances back into me. We’re swaying and rubbing against each other just like everyone else is. I’m singing along to the song and letting my body do whatever it feels like. A bunch of people on the floor yell out “rough sex on the bedroom floor, hop in the shower, she beggin’ for more!” (The best part of the song) and my heart races even faster. I grab his hands and slide them over my waist slowly.

  “Careful,” he warns, whispering in my ear.

  Careful? Why?

  I turn around, now the front of our bodies are touching, wrapping a hand around his neck and slowly pull his ear to my mouth.

  “Careful of what?”

  “Marco is watching us; he looks ready to cut my dick off.”

  I keep his neck in my hand but look over my shoulder to see Marco’s eyes lasered in on us. He doesn’t look mad at me, but he doesn’t look happy either.

  I move my mouth back to his ear.

  “Well then, if he's going to be mad, he might as well be mad about this,” I whisper before moving my lips to his.

  Angelo pushes his soft lips back into mine and wraps an arm around my waist, pulling my body into his tighter. His kiss is warm and my skin heats up to a feverish level as it continues. My mouth parts and his tongue flicks mine. I haven’t been kissed in far too long, and it feels so good.

  Someone grabs my arm and my lips detach from Angelo’s as it’s pulled away.

  “Marco what the fuck?” I start to yell at my brother before realizing it’s not him.

  Gio is behind me and he looks furious.

  Shit.

  “Kid, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll leave, now.” Gio isn’t talking to me, no he’s commanding Angelo to leave.

  He’s still holding my arm too tightly.

  “You can’t be serious,” I screech, looking up at him in disbelief. “You’re not my dad, fuck off Gio.” I try to pull my arm out of his grip but fail. “Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you?” I hiss, still held in place by his grasp.

  “Let go of her arm.” Marco is behind Gio now, he turns to him with a tight jaw. “You can take her home, but get your hands off of her.” My baby brother is officially pissed as he negotiates peace that I don’t want. I don’t want to go home.

  Gio is taller than him, and significantly bigger but neither of them can touch each other and they know it. Gio let’s go of my arm and I rub where his grip was.

  I don’t know whether I hate how tightly he held me, or rather just the circumstance in which he did. This man pollutes my mind to the point that right and wrong blend. I want to blend with him, a perfect fiery storm waiting to happen.

  “I’m sorry Angelo, I’ll call you or something,” I stammer, trying to brush this off.

  “The fuck you will,” Gio snarls.

  The crowd is starting to watch us and I’m getting uncomfortable. My anxiety flares in my stomach as the feeling of disappointment and discomfort takes me over.

  Why the fuck is he so mad?

  I need to get out of here.

  “Tell your little friend what’ll happen if he touches her ever again, Marco. Or I’ll give him an example, got it?” Gio is practically yelling at Marco even though he’s a foot away. He’s treating my brother like he’s still a kid and I wish he wouldn’t. Marco doesn’t deserve his shit, especially because of my actions.

  Somehow Angelo seems unphased which doesn’t feel like a smart reaction to Gio fucking Colombo but maybe he’s just crazy or bold or both. Marco nods at Gio, angering me even further. I’m rightfully furious that he doesn’t stick up for me. Still, my nerves take over my desire to lash out.

  I need to get out of here, everyone is watching me.

  “Close out my tab when you're done,” I grumble at Marco as I push past him.

  I can feel Gio following me but I don’t look back at him. I make my way outside and sure enough his car is right out front, waiting for us. I don’t wait for his direction; I just get in the passenger seat and buckle up. Rolling my eyes, the driver side door opens and he slides inside with me.

  His scent fills the air and attacks my nose, comforting me despite how upset I am. He’s been a real dick for interrupting my night the way he did, and still his presence in the quiet car calms me. He’s always smelt just how a man should, oaky and sweet, dark and delicious. I know that when I smell him around, even if I’m sad or anxious or even scared, I’m safe.

  Gio would never let anything truly awful happen to me and for that I’m grateful. It’s one of the many reasons I think I love him. I think I’ve loved him since I can remember meeting him. Sure, that sounds wrong considering the age difference, but I don’t really care. It’s the truth and the truth always has merit whether i
t’s right or wrong.

  The car starts and he speeds off loudly into the dark night. The city lights twinkle as we pass them by, flashing in my eyes like a movie. I love the night when it’s illuminated by speckled lights. Stars, buildings, Christmas lights, twinkly decorative show lights, you name it, I love it. Though, normally I would be admiring the view, I find myself replaying the dancing, the kiss and then the anger in Gio’s face as he crashed in, breaking it all up.

  In hindsight, going to a club he owns with his dad was probably a bad idea. I should have assumed I would be caught, but I wanted to be naive. Maybe I wanted him to catch me. Maybe I hoped he would act more like a jealous boyfriend than a pissed off dad but I can’t decide how he acted. It’s all too much.

  Replaying and replaying the images in my head takes away the calm his scent bestowed on me. I want to scream at him or hit him or something but there are too many things I want to yell about. I don’t know what to say, so I say nothing.

  “What is this? The silent treatment?” He has the nerve to speak to me. The utter audacity to poke at me after embarrassing me in public while I’m already feeling cast aside by society.

  My anger explodes, immediately. It wrecks through me in a way that I don’t think I’ve ever felt.

  “You had no fucking right to do that!” I nearly scream. “You ignore me and reject me but as soon as someone shows me attention you care? What the hell is your problem?”

  “There it is,” Gio groans, gripping the steering wheel even tight, if that’s possible.

  “Are you serious? You just made a snide comment about the silent treatment but when I talk, you’re annoyed with me as well? Jesus fuck Gio, what is it exactly that you want because I can’t read your mind!?”

  “What do I want? How about, don’t make out with douchebags in my club? How about putting some fucking clothes on before you leave the house? Oh yeah, and in order to leave the house, maybe don’t sneak out of it.”