"Enzo?" I repeated, my voice a little breathless. Because I found I was worried about him. Because no matter how Paine tried to play down the bond between them, I knew it would crush him if anything happened to his half-brother.
She rolled her eyes and waved a hand. "Former Third Street leader."
"Former?" I asked, feeling every muscle in my body tense.
God.
Could she have had him killed?
Was she really capable of that kind of awfulness?
"Yeah. I mean what kind of shot-caller lets someone sneak up under him and steal his business like that?"
"Shot caller?" I repeated.
Her lips tipped up a little. "I always knew my obsession with Gangland would come in handy one day," she mused and I almost smiled, almost. Because I remembered her talking my ear off about all the biker gangs and street gangs and stuff she used to watch on that show. I guess she wasn't watching it for the dark, gritty entertainment way it was intended, but as an educational device. "Anyway. He's out of the way now and I have this whole operation under my control."
"You like the power," I said, shaking my head a little.
"Everyone likes power. Everyone."
"That's not true," I objected. I liked control over my life, but I didn't want power. I didn't strive to claw my way up the corporate ladder and get a corner office position. I was happy being in the middle. I worked hard; I made a good living. I didn't need more than that.
"Oh please. You wouldn't have busted your ass as hard as you did in school and college if you didn't want a position of power in your future."
"I busted my ass in school because it was Mom's dying wish that I never be dependent on a man. I did it to have a comfortable, independent life. I didn't do it so I could harp on endlessly about how many people I have power over."
"So you think you're somehow... better than me?" she asked, eyes going a little dark.
"I think I didn't build my life around my father's approval when I claim to hate him so much. Christ, El, do you not see it? You're just like him now..."
The sound of the smack echoed up and into the metal room above and around us, the quick sting of pain smarting across my un-bruised cheek. Now, again, we were sisters. As such, I'd felt her smack more than once in my life, no matter how well we generally got along. One time it was over something as stupid as me borrowing her hairbrush and not cleaning my hair out of it afterward. Her anger had a quick trigger. But it burned hot and fast and was gone.
"The truth hurts, El," I said with a shrug as she dropped her hand to her side and balled it into a fist.
"I'm not like him."
"You know, you're right. No matter how pissed Dad has gotten with me, and he's gotten pretty pissed..." Like when I refused to go to his alma mater after he made a call to the dean to square away a donation and assure my place. Or when I once took my spring break senior year in high school to 'rough it' by staying in a hostel in Amsterdam instead of taking him up on his offer for a lavish French Riviera vacation. "He never put a hand on me."
"It's different," she snapped and I could see the tiniest trace of guilt.
"You're right. Because the only people who can manage power right, El, are the ones who can control themselves. This," I said, waving a hand out, "is going to blow up on you one day. You think you can just haul off and hit one of these... these... gang members and they won't do anything? They obviously have no problem hitting women," I said, gesturing toward my face.
Was she really that dumb? I mean, my sister was smart. She had always done well in school, at work. She was knowledgeable. But, at the same time, she was always rash and impulsive, never stopping to truly analyze things. It was one thing when what she was rushing into was an ill-advised affair with a married English aristocrat who was only in town for two weeks. It was a whole other to decide all willy-nilly to become a drug kingpin. I mean... what could have been going through her head?
A slow, almost evil smile spread across her face. "Oh, they'd never put a hand on me, Else."
She sounded so sure that I felt a cold creeping across my skin, making goosebumps form on every inch, making a sliver of ice slide into my heart. "How can you be so sure of that? It's not like you have some reputation of being..."
"There's a lot you don't know about me, Else. I haven't been the sister you've thought in a really, really long time. You were just too clueless to see it."