She stopped, her back to me, her shoulders so stiff, they were almost to her ears.
“You know who I am,” I said.
She made a growling noise, like she was beyond frustrated with me and couldn’t wait to be as far away from me as possible. Then she moved even faster to get away from me, the worn-down heel of her boots echoing as she moved.
She had no fucking clue. I’m Brando Fausti’s second son. Not his oldest, who always had a clear picture of his life and how it would go. For almost my entire life, I was good at many things, so I simply did. The moment my eyes locked on her, all of that changed.
Matteo might be close in line to be the next king lion of the Fausti family, but I’m the image of Brando Fausti who operates outside the lines. And if it took me operating outside laws to have Sistine Evita—I’d accept fate’s challenge for her.
My feet turned me back to the ring behind the case.
We’ll meet again. Soon.
A wave of heat moved over the diamond, and it seemed to glisten like a pool of fresh blood would in response.
Oh, we shall.
Chapter 2
Mariano
Iwas born to run.
Even before my mamma told me that, I knew it.
Since my mamma was touched, for each of her pregnancies, she journaled for the entire nine months. And when she was ready, she gave each of her children the books she’d written for them while we were in utero.
She said my sister, Mia, was going to practically dance through life, while there was also a fire to my sister that gave Mamma indigestion every so often. Especially when it came down to Mia protecting her family.
Matteo was a rule keeper, but so fierce, his intensity kept her almost too hot.
Marciano was a slugger from the beginning. She said sometimes he would kick or move, and she thought the bruises to her insides would make it to the outside. She also called him a “cuddler,” which he ate up like a toddler with a silver fucking spoon. She said he would nestle underneath her ribs and wouldn’t move for hours.
Maestro was the caboose, so to speak, and mamma said she knew he was going to be attracted to music. She said it would either make him do cartwheels or put him to sleep.
That left me.
The spare to the heir.
The second-born son of Brando and Scarlett Fausti.
The Casanova Prince.
The runner.
Mamma said I moved nonstop, restlessly. When she placed her hand on her stomach, I’d calm for a while, probably long enough for me to rest. Then I’d be off again. She said I had the heart of a lion with the spirit of a wild stallion.
I was never one thing that made sense, like my brother Matteo, but my own thing—and I loved to race. To move. To discover. I felt the restlessness inside of me whenever my heart would beat and my blood rushed through my veins. The hunger inside of me pushed me past my limits, until I’d rest for a little while. Just long enough to find what felt like an endless well of energy inside of me again.
I’d tap into it, not always sure where it was going to lead me, and whenever I exhausted myself of traveling, of women, I’d have to run to tire myself out again.
One thing I was thankful for: my parents made sure my older brother and I grew into separate men. He had his own thing. I did too. I remembered a time when we lived in Italy, before my old man made the decision to move us back to Natchitoches, Louisiana, when all I could see was Matteo Fausti, and I couldn’t imagine being anyone but him.
I followed him around as if I was his shadow, and in traditional ways, that would have been acceptable to the Fausti family. I was born to lead if for some reason my brother couldn’t. Except my old man experienced the strain between him and his brother, Rocco, that had crept up when it came to family hierarchy and rules. He didn’t want the same fate for his sons.
Though, in the Fausti family, there was no escaping the pecking order. Mia could have led if she wanted to, but sheturned it down after our grandfather offered her the role. If she had accepted, it would have caused some issues between my sister and older brother, though I didn’t think it would have caused a major crack in our family.
Matteo would have been her second in command, and he would have learned to live with it. But. All Matteo had ever wanted was to lead the family someday, which meant that my brothers and I were his soldiers to command. Uppers would teach Matteo how to rule, and those rules would trickle down to us.
