Chapter Three
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Francesca
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In the Rini family, image is everything.They may be crime lords, but all the girls are expected to excel in the arts, while the boys are trained to master crime.
My mom wanted me to be a ballerina, so I tried that for a while.Practice was dreadful; I hated it and deliberately performed poorly, hoping no teacher would want to work with me.
However, what my brothers were doing seemed far more exciting, so I blackmailed our butler, who is always armed and holds a black belt in karate, into teaching me his ways in secret.
My brothers were not pleased when I occasionally kicked their butts, and they never went easy on me.
Unmasking them should be a piece of cake.
I dodge their outstretched hands—as if they're trying to catch me—and deliver flying kicks aimed at their jaws that unfortunately land on their chests—hard enough to topple them over but not too hard.I'm practically a ninja now.
But they don't move.
"Take two," I mutter under my breath as I leap onto my bed and then onto the back of one of them.
I grab his ear—or rather, the ear of his costume—with one hand and the side of his face with my other hand.I tug and twist, trying to yank it off, but it won't budge.I need a better grip.
Why is this so strange?This one feels unusually warm, as if I'm touching real skin, and beneath it, there's a surge of power.Bolts of electricity shoot through me from where my fingers touch him to the core of my being.My being?Yes, that's what it feels like.
What is actually happening right now?
What's even more curious is how strong he feels––stronger than any one of my brothers, that's for sure.He could easily reach behind me with his massive paw, throw me off his back, and send me flying through the walls of our house.Who are they?
Instead, while he tries to remain upright, he seems cautious, careful not to hurt me or drop me while also trying to stop me from pulling at his face—well, the mask on his face, that is.
So weird.
I put more effort into ripping off his costume.
"Why won't it come off?"I say through gritted teeth, gasping for breath.Ugh.My brothers are always playing tricks on me just because I'm a girl.Did they hire someone to do it?I am not going to miss them at all.
I give up on this one and, with ease, catapult myself onto number two's back.What the hell?I pull at his hair, his cheeks, and his neck, searching for a gap in the costume.Nothing.He too makes it clear he doesn't want to hurt me.
Also, they're speaking to me in a language I don't understand—guttural sighs, unsteady, but it sounds as if they're pleading with me to stop.I think not.
I swing onto number three's back.This time, without thinking, my fingers slip into his mouth, gripping the bottom layer of his teeth.I pull and yank.
I'm determined to get at least one of their masks off if it takes all night.
His mouth feels unusually warm.Just when I think he's going to bite down on my fingers, his tongue darts out and licks them, as if tasting me.Then I feel it: his canines vibrate, leaving me with the uncanny, bizarre sensation that they're missing something.
What the actual hell?And worse, their scent—a mix of mint and cardamom—will now stay with me forever.
Real fear surges through me like a hurricane.These are not my brothers playing a prank on me.I'm not dreaming.The three trolls in my room are real.
Crap.
Survival mode kicks in.I somersault off his back and weave myself between their powerful, muscle-heavy legs.
