“Can someone please tell me what the fuck is going on here?” Nicoli’s face twists in confusion as he studies both me and Rome. “You two hate each other, or am I missing something?”
Rome and I glance at one another before I look back at my brother. “Turns out our cousin here isn’t the enemy but rather an ally.”
“So, you two have been, what? Docking dicks this entire time?”
Maximo stifles a laugh while I merely glare at my twin, deciding it’s safer not to provoke him into saying more stupid shit. “When he gatecrashed our meeting wanting to claim his father’s spot in the Dark Sovereign, I was just as surprised as you.”
“Your surprised faces had to be real,” Rome chimes in. “I couldn’t risk coming to you beforehand. As I said, my dad is desperate and like a fucking Rottweiler, smelling bullshit a mile away.”
“So…what?” Nicoli pulls up his shoulders. “You and my brother sat down with some tea and macaroons afterward, scheming?”
“Well, not tea,” Rome replies flatly, and Nicoli shoots him an unamused look.
“Listen,” I move to the edge of the couch, “Rome approached me and told me that his father asked him to come back and join the family business.”
“Ourfamily business,” Nicoli sneers. “He’s not getting Isaia’s spot.”
“I don’t want Isaia’s spot,” Rome interjects. “Do you really think I came back because I suddenly want to be a part of all this shit after I left to be fucking free of it all?”
“You’re a Savelli,” Nicoli barks. “Who knows with you lot?”
“Need I remind you that your mother is a Savelli, too?”
“Need I remind you that I have a loaded gun and an itchy finger?”
“Oh, you mean this finger?” Rome flips him off, and Nicoli bares his teeth. “I can assure you, I don’t want any part in Dark Sovereign business, and I have no desire to sit at that goddamn table.”
“Then why did you come back? Why go through all this trouble to pretend to fall for your father’s bullshit, only to tell Alexius about it?”
“I’m trying to do the right thing.”
Nicoli stretches his arm along the back of the couch. “Yeah, and what’s that?”
“If you remember correctly, I was there on your father’s birthday seventeen years ago, listening to my dad speak about how he plans to take out your entire fucking bloodline. That was when I decided I’d break free from this goddamn family the first opportunity I got.”
“Pussy,” Nicoli mutters.
“Family is supposed to protect each other, not kill each other.”
“Yeah, well, we’re special,” Nicoli says while lighting another cigarette. “And you’re still a pussy.”
“Call me whatever the fuck you want—”
“Cuntface.”
“Nicoli,” I warn, and he snarls in my direction. “Every question you’re asking now, I’ve already asked. Every doubt you have, I’ve had it threefold. So far, the only thing our cousin has done to piss me off is talk to my wife.”
Rome grins. “It’s so easy to get under your skin.”
“Touch my wife, and you lose your spleen. As easy as that.”
“Is that what you tried to do to Isaia? Tried to pull out his spleen through his face?” Rome grins, and Nicoli snorts.
“How about we just keep my wife out of this, shall we?”
“Yeah. I’m rather fond of my spleen, thank you.” Nicoli leans his head back, opening his mouth and letting the smoke trickle out, spreading like tendrils, drifting upward, weakening into faint wisps.
“I’m afraid we can’t do that.” Rome’s face tightens, and the atmosphere in the room turns as heavy as the frown Maximo’s had on his face for the last fifteen minutes. “It’s why I came over here. There’s been some new developments. Or rather, my dad seems to want to up his game.”