by Robinson, M.
“Speaking of my growing fan base…” I winked at Tristian, letting her go. “Where’s the three to our threesome at tonight?”
“She’s right here, and it’s not a threesome since I still refuse to participate,” she teased, playing coy.
Eden was smart; she knew I wanted her.
Needed her.
Craved her like an addict craves heroin.
Tristian’s eyes immediately darkened, drinking her in. I, however, refused to turn around. I already knew what I’d see.
Tits.
Ass.
Legs.
Long ones that seemed to go on forever. Yet somehow, they matched her curves. Triggering my hands to burn with the desire to caress up and down her body.
Marking.
Claiming.
Making her mine.
Until she begged me to stop.
I wouldn’t.
I couldn’t.
Years of pent-up sexual tension would do that to any man, and I was no different. She had the power to bring me to my knees if she sought it out enough. I refused to allow her to come in between my brother and me.
Even though I wanted her more than anything and anyone.
“Eden.” I gestured for another drink. “We started without you.”
She reached around me, grabbing the shot from the bartender. “You always do. I’m no longer surprised. So what are we celebrating?”
I slowly turned, keeping my eyes locked on hers. Fighting with the urge to glance down her body. Eden demanded respect, attention; I’d never treat her as if she was just another victim of my charm.
She was different.
Immune.
Not interested.
She loved me, but not in the same way I did her. Hence, the fucking knife in my thigh senior year. Saying some shit about dying rather than hooking up with someone who used scratches on his bedpost as a way to climb to the top.
There was a joke in there somewhere about being on top, spewing out of my mouth, of course. The way she was looking at me had my mind lost in its own thoughts.
Tristian must have noticed. He cleared his throat next to us, simply saving my ass. She’d hit me; I knew it. It was one of the things I loved the most about her.
She was feisty.
Bitchy.
Always needing to have her voice heard and be put in her place.
Hence, why I made her cry often. Despite her dramatics and fucking temper tantrums, she always came back for more. I had that effect on women.
You want to know how to keep their panties wet and under your demand and control without them even knowing it?
Piss them off.
Ignore them.
But always do it with a grin.
There you go, you’re welcome.
Bringing my focus back to him, Tristian stated with pride in his tone, “Your father and the Capo just made this asshole his captain.”
Despite desperately longing to go from associate to made man, he didn’t have it in him. He was The Famiglia’s accountant, for fuck’s sake. All he saw was the glory behind the bloodshed. Men praising each other for the mentality of kill or be killed.
He never saw the lonely nights.
Showering the blood off your body.
Burning yet another suit because to keep it would criminalize you.
He didn’t see the demon I saw in the mirror every day, and I would die before letting him see just how much this life stole from you… bit by bit.
Piece by piece.
Until you were nothing but…
A soulless devil.
CHAPTER TWO
“We stop looking for monsters under the bed when we realize they’re inside us.” —Joker
Romeo
“He did?” Eden’s eyebrows furrowed, standing by the bar. “But…why?”
I placed my hand over my chest, feigning offense. “You wound me, fair maiden—”
“Oh, shut up.” She waved me off. “I mean you’re pretty, and I’m sure with all your experience you know how to tie a good knot or pretend to strangle someone, but come on, you barely have ten kills under your belt and—”
“Fifty-seven, but who’s counting?” I corrected. “It’s just a number, right? Double it, and it’s probably how many women I’ve fucked.”
She winced, quickly recovering. Knowing it didn’t matter, I saw it.
I saw everything.
Particularly when it came to her.
“I think it’s time to get extremely drunk. You in?”
She was still gaping at me like she didn’t even know me. Obviously, blown away with how many enemies I’d killed, or maybe it was how many women I made come on my cock. Either way, I needed to get away from her shame, and her judging stare burning a hole in my body.
“I’m gonna hit the restroom. Be right back.” Tristian, the fucking traitor, nearly ran in the opposite direction taking down an elderly couple in all his haste. He hated confrontation; again, he was just an accountant, for fuck’s sake.
I sighed and gazed after him. “Zero tact.”
“Absolutely none.” Eden shrugged. “It’s why he’s so charming.”
“Wait, him?” I pointed in the general direction of the bathrooms. “My older brother? Charming? Are you already drunk?” I pressed my hand to her forehead only to feel the prick of a knife against my favorite part of my six-pack. “Do it, I dare you.”
“I’ve done it before.” She jerked her hand away and sighed. “And yes, if you must know, I think he’s charming. He’s—” she lifted a shoulder in a weak shrug “—he’s different, you know? Not jaded yet, there’s no darkness in him, not like…” Her voice caught.
“Me? Is that what you were going to say?”
“Look at you, Romeo.” Her voice lowered. “Fifty-seven kills at the age of twenty-one? Is that the life you pictured for yourself? You could have been a model, an actor, a firefighter.”
“You do realize you named literally every occupation that has good-looking guys, right? Is that your type, Eden? You want a hero? What exactly is he saving you from? Because from what I know about the woman standing in front of me, she’s as ruthless as the man staring back at her. So please, enlighten me on what part of you is a damsel in distress.”
She rolled her eyes. “My point is, you’re in this world now, just like my dad, just like me…and there is no going back; I’ll have to marry for convenience, not love. Like I’m some fucking trophy in the name of mafia life. But Tristian, he’s still semi-normal compared to us. It’s refreshing; he wants no part of what you do on the daily. Taking lives and fucking women isn’t his M.O.”
“And who says it’s mine?”
“I do.”
“Since when are you the authority on who I am and what I do?”
She put her hands up in a surrendering gesture. “I’m not trying to offend you. I didn’t think you would care if people called you a killer.”
“I don’t.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“I care if you do.”
She scoffed out a chuckle. “I find that hard to believe. You get off on the power, Romeo. It’s blatant and easy to see. You love that women fall at their feet for you.”
“I’d say more like they fall on their knees for me.” I grinned. “But yours works too.”
“Ugh! You see! This is exactly what I’m talking about. You don’t take anything seriously. It’s why your brother is different. His life is worth something.”
“As opposed to mine, that’s worth nothing in your eyes?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to. I can read you like the back of my hand. I have since we were kids, and it’s what pisses you off the most about me. We have that connection, and you don’t share that with anyone but me. Not even my charming brother.”
“Your arrogance is annoying.”
“So you’ve said a thousand times. Doesn’t change the fact that I know you, Eden.”
“Fine.�
�� She rolled her eyes again. “Does your life mean anything to you?”
“Of course it does.”
“Really? When?”
I opened my mouth to reply, however quickly shut it.
Did my life mean anything to me? Why couldn’t I answer her question?
“Looks like the cat got your tongue, huh? You kill women when they are…you know…” She motioned her hands awkwardly in front of her. “While they are…”
In a challenging tone, I ordered, “Fucking say it, I dare you. Would you like my tongue deep inside of you instead?”
“I hate you.”
“Correction, you love me.”
“I tolerate you.” She jabbed a finger at me, and that was when I saw it, the flicker of her eyes to my mouth like she was curious, like she wanted to know. It was my job to read people, and for the first time in a long time, she cracked.
It was brief.
Sudden.
Enough.
I leaned in and tilted her chin toward me. “Was orgasm the word you were going for or something dirtier…God, please say it was something dirtier…”
Her breath hitched. “Romeo…we shouldn’t.”
Again.
I got her.
There were times where she would let her guard down and stop pretending like I didn’t mean anything to her.
More than friendship.
More than bickering.
Much more than anything…
Anyone.
“We most definitely should.” I nodded. “Didn’t you know? Sex fixes everything.”
She burst out laughing. “You’re insane.”
“Then go a bit crazy with me; I promise you’ll enjoy it.”
“You gonna kill me during or after?”
“Oh, definitely after.” I nodded seriously. “Wouldn’t wanna kill the moment.”
She smiled, her cheeks slightly turned a shade of pink. “So tell me, Red… what’s it going to be?” I asked, watching as her eyes dilated at the sound of the nickname I’d called her since we were kids. Twirling her red hair in between my index finger, I tugged her closer to my mouth. Inches away from my lips.
There it was…
Our connection.
A throat cleared, forcing me to pull away from her as Tristian looked between us, his face hard and unreadable. “I’m not feeling well, guys, so I’m just gonna head out.”
“No!” Eden reached for his arm; his eyes softened. “Stay, please!”
His breathing changed the minute she touched him; it was like he transformed into an entirely different human, unrecognizable by even his younger brother.
Because he was fucking in love with her.
I knew that too.
I’d known it all my life.
Eden was the garden we both wanted to plant our seed in.
She was still gripping onto his arm, not mine. While she always pushed me away, with Tristian, she pulled him closer to her. She was different with him than she had ever been with me. Including this very moment. Where I was discussing taking her to my bed, she was pretty much begging Tristian to cock block the fuck out of me.
I’d never been jealous of a body part before, but there you go, a first time for everything. I wanted to cut off my brother’s arm.
Quickly, I shoved the thought away.
Family over everything.
Anyone.
“Actually,” I rasped, forcing an easy smile, “I was going to go find someone to dance with, you two stay.”
The hurt expression on Eden’s face was a dagger to my cold heart. She knew what I was doing. This wasn’t the first time I let him have her, and it wouldn’t be the last.
“You’re sure?” she inquired, searching my eyes for more lies.
I gave her nothing. A blank canvas. Replying, “Positive.” Meeting her eyes.
Bright blue stared deep into mine. For a second, she was able to break through. I was the first to break the power this woman had over me; gazing down at the ground, I backed away.
If I did, I wouldn’t turn around and find someone else.
If I did, she’d see right through me.
If I did, I knew that she’d be going home with me.
Not him.
This was only the first fuck-up in a long line of fuck-ups.
It would forever change my life.
This was the moment where I turned the page and ended the chapter of what could have been.
Handing her to my brother was the most noble shit I’d done in all my life. It was the least I could do. He was my blood, my only brother, the man I looked up to.
How was I supposed to know I was damning all three of our souls with one choice?
I didn’t.
I couldn’t.
I surrendered.
In one year, they were married.
In one year, I had everything I wanted.
In one year…
Our lives dragged us straight to Hell.
CHAPTER THREE
“I find your lack of faith disturbing.” —Darth Vader
Romeo
Then: Eight months later
“She said yes!” Tristian’s face was lit up like a Christmas tree as the family all stood to offer their congratulations. We were at our parents’ house.
I sat.
I sat, and I stared at the wall in front of me.
Soon he’d want to shake my hand.
Soon he’d want me to smile.
Soon I’d want to drink myself to death.
How I could manage to kill without once feeling an ounce of pain, only to feel like I was going to lose my mind at the news of his engagement.
I buried the reasons like I buried my heart.
Like I’d hidden my soul.
Eden.
She wasn’t mine.
She never had been.
Now she belonged to another man who wasn’t me.
My brother.
Tristian.
He didn’t steal her from me.
I gave her to him.
And I had only myself to blame.
I’d let this happen.
In the back of my mind, I knew—a life for us just wasn’t in the cards. A relationship. A marriage. I barely allowed a friendship. I didn’t want this life for her. If it wasn’t me, it was going to be another son of a bitch who’d drag her into the flames with him. I couldn’t allow that to happen, not after knowing how pure her heart truly was. My brother would be good to her. He’d treat Eden like she deserved. She was his whole world, and I wouldn’t expect anything less from him.
But what was worse than what I was currently encountering? I couldn’t face her.
I didn’t want to congratulate her.
Tell her how happy I was for them.
More lies.
No truths.
The reality of our love story was that it was over before it ever had a chance to begin.
Being married to me would kill her, slowly, day by day, until no pieces of her soul were left. She’d lie with her words, and she’d give me her body. But I’d be left with nothing but the ash of the woman I burned with me.
It was better this way.
She had him,
He had her.
They had each other while I had nothing.
Slowly, I stood on wooden legs and then turned to my brother.
“Tristian.” I held out my hand, surprised it wasn’t shaking with the rage I felt trapped in my body demanding to be free. “I’m happy for you, brother.”
The room fell silent.
They all knew.
They fucking knew.
I sacrificed my happiness to ensure he received his. Tristian’s eyes flickered with sadness before he cleared his throat and reached out, taking my hand in his—a firm handshake, a gentleman’s handshake.
Why did I feel like I was going to fuck him up?
“I’m going to head out; I have a few things I need to take care of.” I sidestepped him, not giving him or any of the fam
ily a chance to say shit.
My 1961 convertible Lincoln Continental was parked in front of one of the many Sinacore mansions, just waiting for me to take it on a joy ride. Unlocking the doors, I stepped in and fired up the engine. Instantly, I slammed my hands against the steering wheel until it didn’t hurt anymore until I didn’t want to start a war within The Famiglia.
With my brother.
My flesh and blood.
I needed to get my shit together, I was trained to not feel emotion, and there I was feeling bullshit I didn’t think I was capable of. It was confusing, tearing at my insides, making me feel like less of the man I was born to be.
My hands shook as I finally gripped the steering wheel and hit the accelerator until it was pressed against the floor of the car.
Driving was a blur. One big fucking blur.
All I saw was her face.
Blue eyes, striking red hair, full lips.
Laughter.
God, I’d die to hear her laugh like she did with my brother. She loved him. I knew that everyone loved him as well. It was complicated. We were complicated. More so now.
A sharp curve loomed ahead, and I eased off the accelerator as I followed the road, then once again jammed the gas pedal to the floor and punched through the turn, trying to shake off the unrelenting visions of what I’d just seen and heard. Turning up the music, I blared it as loud as it would go. With the hope it would tune out the images of Eden, of Tristian, of the life they’d have together. It hammered loud and hard into my mind, mimicking the pounding of my heart and the ringing in my ears.
I sped through the night. Going over seventy-five miles per hour, pushing eighty, ninety, one hundred. Fucking furious I’d allowed this to happen. I couldn’t get to my final destination fast enough, flying by vehicle after vehicle across the valley, my foot heavy on the accelerator until everything I sped by was simply another huge blur.
Switching lanes.
Dodging cars.
I wanted to feel nothing.
“Goddamn it!” I roared into the crisp night air as I slammed on the breaks in front of Elliot’s, which was a complete shit show of a dive bar in the Bronx, New York. Every single virus and bacteria known to mankind probably teemed in its old leather wingback chairs and sticky bar tables. However, it was ours.
Or it had been.
Ever since we used our fake IDs on her sixteenth birthday. This was the place I’d lost her only eight months ago, gave her away like she meant not a damn thing when, in fact, she meant everything to me.
