He’s always been different, a little more volatile, and I would imagine him being adopted. Not of the Lombardi bloodline because my father was stringent, but he was never an asshole.
Growing up with an older brother wasn’t easy, but with Andrea now an adult, he’s made life even more difficult. Once I rinse my hair, I step out of the shower and wrap myself in a fluffy white towel. In my bedroom, a light vibration comes from my bed, and when I pick up my phone, I see Lucio’s name flash on the screen.
“Hello?” I answer quickly, but I’m met with silence. “Hello? Is anyone there?” My chest tightens and my heart thuds against my ribs. “Lucio?” Seconds later, he hangs up. I set the device down, but as I do, another buzz comes through. This time it’s not a call, but a message.
Time has run out,little princess.
My heart rate spikes,threatening to choke me. I respond immediately, asking what he means. A gut feeling tells me this isn’t the man I’ve known since I was fifteen. This isn’t Lucio.
Game over.
The loud ringingof the tone I set for Andrea screeches at me, causing me to squeal. I swipe my finger over the screen and press the phone to my ear.
“Get to the bar now. Something’s happened.”
He hangs up before I have time to respond. This time, when I try to swallow, I can’t. My body shivers with confusion, with fear, and the anxiety tightens my belly. I race to my closet and grab my uniform. A black knee-length skirt with ballet flats and a charcoal, silk blouse. I quickly towel dry my hair until it’s damp, hanging in long honey-colored waves down my back.
Not bothering with makeup, I rush into the living room, grab my keys, and head for the door. It’s still warm outside and as I lock up, I take a deep breath. The sun is setting on the horizon, casting everything in a deep orange glow. The secondhand electric-blue Audi my father bought me when I turned seventeen is my only possession I have left of him. All the photos, gifts, teddy bears, it all went up in smoke when they burned our home to the ground.
I don’t focus on the road. My mind is running a million miles a minute with scenarios. I wish Andrea had just told me what happened, but of course he needs the control. He loves to watch my panic, my pain. My brother has become my worst enemy, even though he’s my greatest ally.
Pulling into the parking lot, I turn off the engine, open my door, and grab my purse. Inhaling a deep breath, I exit the car and lock it.
“Raina.” My brother’s thick drawl drags my attention to the garage door where he’s leaning against the steel with a cigarette hanging from his lips.
Dressed in a black Cartier suit with a crisp blue button-up and a charcoal tie. His shoes are shiny in the low light. Girls compare him to James Dean, with those blue-green eyes and that sleek, tousled hair with a cheeky grin. A bad boy from a young age, he’s always done what he wanted, but since he got into the wrong crowd, it was as if a switch had turned on inside him and he became a bigger asshole than he always had been.
“Andrea, what’s going on?” My response earns me a dark chuckle. I don’t need to cast a glance at my watch, knowing I’ve arrived exactly on time.
“Dear old Dad has kicked the bucket,” he utters the words casually, as if he’s telling me the sun is shining.
“What?” I croak, emotion thick in my tone. Tears brim my eyes and Andrea looks blurry suddenly. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve just gotten confirmation that Dad was murdered. I am now in charge ofeverything.” The way he says it explains just what I believed he’d do. He means he’s in charge of me. “I’ve got an important meeting tonight, some big players coming in. I want you to serve us in the VIP lounge.” He pulls on the white stick and blows out a billow of gray smoke.
“You’ve just told me our father is dead,” I retort, but all I earn myself is a grin.Asshole.
“I know, and I’ve just told you I am in charge. If you don’t get your ass in there and serve drinks, I’ll be forced to disown you. And you will lose everything.” The threat burns through me. My hand rears back, and it makes quick contact with his face.
Andrea chortles, a low rumble from his chest, and I note there is a cut on his lip. I’ve drawn blood from my own brother. He slides his palm over his cheek, regarding me with a tipped head and narrowed eyes.
“Try that again, little sister”—he sneers, leaning in so his breath is on me—“and I’ll make you rue the day you were born. I am your guardian in every sense of the word, and make no mistake, I’ll be setting some new rules.” By that I know he means the trust fund our father had in place. Dad didn’t keep it a secret that he had set one up for me. Andrea got his when he turned twenty-four, and I’ll only receive mine at the same age. Sadness washes over me when the realization hits that I’ll be Andrea’s slave for another five long years.
“Fuck you!” I bite out, reaching out to slap him once more, but he’s too fast this time. He grips my hand, holding on to my wrist painfully. The venom in his eyes is volatile, and it scares me. Yes, he’s never been a good brother, but something has changed, something drastic.
“Watch your tongue, little sister. These men might just like your little virgin act you’ve got going. Perhaps they’ll do all that shit you like to read about in your smutty books you love so much.” He smirks, falling into step beside me as he practically drags me into the building.
“Why are you doing this? Daddy would never have wanted you to turn intothem,” I retort, changing the subject, trying to level with him, but he doesn’t relent. My brother found one of my novels one day while rifling through my purse for something. To this day, I never found out what he was searching for and when I asked, he dismissed it as a trivial act.
“Daddy’s no longer here. Now get to work,” he bites out in amusement before leaving me in the main area and disappearing into the office.
The interior of the club is decked out in monotones, with the only color being some of our waitresses’ hair. Our uniforms are mostly black and silver, keeping the theme minimal, but even with the elegance of the furnishings, there’s an underlying current of depravity that happens behind the scenes.
My thoughts are searing through me.Daddy’s dead. That’s when I recall the message from Lucio’s phone.Game over.
Did he kill my father?
It makes little sense. He had no reason to. They both worked for the same organization. The Cosa Nostra. All I want is to get out of this place, to mourn the loss of not only my home, but my father, too. The tears fall when I blink.