I take a breath before I walk through the main doors and out onto the top of the steps. Those fierce blue eyes twinkling as she told me I would be hers, that rich, thick brown hair that I wanted to snatch my hand in and pull her to me, that tanned golden skin I want to splash my cum over and mark her as mine, those pink, full lips I want to bury my dick into, andfuck me. She’s fucking beautiful.
With all that playing through my mind, I try to school my features, removing the grin plastered across my face. It’s undeniable that I am, for want of a better word, happy at the revelation.
I will not let my father or brother know about this revelation until absolutely necessary, but once they know, the world will go to shit. She's put the fox amongst the chickens, and it will only end in bloodshed.
My father is standing beside his car. Bellino is leaning in and listening to whatever tirade he’s on, but his gaze is on me. His glare is clear. Father is not happy with what I’ve done. His dark eyes are so much like mine, but also so cold, his hair cropped shorter, more severe than mine. His neck is thick and tense as he grits his teeth atme—whether it’s just pure hatred from him or from what Father is saying, I suppose I’ll never know.
“Father…” I say as I get to the bottom of the steps. He spins, venom dripping from his lips as he takes a quick glance down the driveway to make sure the others are already leaving.
“Save it. If you’ve fucking cost us with your little stunt, I swear… I will let you be Bellino’s problem, and I won’t lose a wink of sleep over you.” He snatches at the car door and climbs in, the driver peeling off down the driveway.
I snarl at my brother, his face impassive as ever as he pulls the packet of cigarettes from his jacket pocket, tapping the bottom and retrieving a cigarette, curling it between his lips. With it dangling from the corner of his mouth, he pulls out his lighter.
“You really are fucking stupid.” He brings the lighter to the tip of his cigarette. The flame flickers under the tension in his exhale, but he glares across at me. “I will enjoy putting you in your place, little brother.”
He takes a big draw on the cigarette and then blows the smoke in my face. I turn, not even acknowledging the action, and head to my car. There’s no love lost between me and my brother. Father made sure we work well together, but we aren’t close. I was always the spare, the bonus, the replacement if needed. Something for Father to take his frustration out on when things didn’t go his way.
Bellino, his golden child, could do no wrong. Father would take him with him all the time, leaving me at home with the staff. Mother was long gone by then. I don’t even remember her. But Bellino always blamed me for her death. I don’t know why; I’d stopped asking long ago.
Me and Bellino just don’t see eye to eye. He’s the heir, the successor to Father’s throne. As the strongest member of the Syndicate, Bellino will inherit it all. Ariana’s father is the second, so it makes sense for them to arrange to have their children married off. But Bellino’s nearly thirty, so I suppose there’s more of a need for him to provide the next heir. I grip the steering wheel tightly before screeching down the driveway, leaving Bellino smoking himself into an early grave, hopefully. I huff out a breath.
Will she actually choose me?I try not to think about it, but I can’t help myself, imagining what type of life we could have. Being chosen for a change will be a novelty. I’ve had a privileged life, don’t get me wrong. My father’s standing affords us a certain level of respect and generosity.
But growing up, I was never as important as Bellino, and he made sure I knew it. He’s cruel and vindictive. A bully, but he’s also fierce and unhinged. Father made the most of manipulating those traits, and Bellino has been Father’s right-hand man for years, dealing with all the persuasion and retribution on Father’s command. He’s a different kind of being. I don’t think my brother has any feelings.
I remember watching him pull the wings and legs of bugs growing up before he advanced to men. He’s as morally black as they come. He would kill me if I were in his position and wouldn’t think twice about it. I wanted a big brother I could look up to, a brother who would protect me, who would be my best friend. However, I was the one who got punished if Bellino made Father mad—I felt his wrath. If Bellino dropped the ball, I would take a beating.
I don’t think he minded, though, and I’m pretty sure some of those beatings were because he failed on purpose. My brother is a very resourceful and vindictive man. He wouldn’t fail as easily as he did if there was nothing in it for him, and apparently, there was, and that was to make my life miserable.
But being a part of her choice, actually being her choice over my brother, leaves me with a sense of superiority for the first time in my life. Someone picked me over him, and although my head is reeling from the day’s events, I hope she pulls this off. I wonder if there’s any way I can help.
I brainstorm on the way back home because if I can sway the balance secretly, it will give her an actual shot at succeeding. If my father has anything to do with it, then he will make sure she marries Bellino, and I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy. He will want her power as much as her father wanted Father’s. And my brother is not a kind and loving man; my brother is a tyrant. I can’t even begin to think what will happen to her if my brother marries her.
That fire, that spirit, will be quashed, and he will take great pleasure in seeing her destroyed, demoralised, and humiliated. He’s taking her as his wife for no other reason than to take her father’s power; she is irrelevant, and he will make sure she knows that. In reality, she may as well end up dead rather than be his wife. He will force her to be compliant by any means necessary.
Bellino
Chapter Three
I watch as my pathetic excuse for a sibling screeches out of the driveway. If I couldn’t remember my mother being pregnant with him, I would be convinced he was adopted; he’s a disgrace to the Ricci name. Father was always more lenient with him, more tolerant of his behaviour. I would always get punished for his lack of… everything.
We’re not close. We work well together as Father made sure we understood our roles, but outside of that, we have no relationship.
I pull out my phone and type a message to Aldo and Elio, the Costa brothers. They’re my gofers; they think they’re more important than that, but I use them for menial tasks, things I don’t have the time or energy to carry out, being my eyes, my ears, my legs, to carry out the monotonous tasks. Before I have a chance to hit send, the door flies open and a terrified-looking member of staff comes running out of the house, panic etched all over his face.
When he locks eyes with me, he bolts, speeding up, taking off down the driveway. I lift my phone and hit dial.
“Boss.” The questioning tone leaks quietly through the phone.
“Get your ass back here now,” I snap.
“We’re outside, across the street.”
“A man is running out of the gates right about… now. Get him. Take him to the basement.”
“Yes, boss.” I hear the skid of tyres. Followed by raised voices, before doors slamming and the squeal of tyres as they wheel spin away. I puff on my cigarette. The only noise coming from the house is intermittent gunfire. A few more singular shots. Probably an execution, and I can’t help but wonder if my fiancée is going to be more fun than I first thought.
Today’s the first day I’ve actually noticed her. Normally, she crept around the house, skulking in the shadows. Plain, unnoticed, ordinary. But if she does have a little more about her than previously advertised, at least it will be fun breaking her—crushing her and destroying everything she thinks she deserves.
