SIN
It had been a few days since my "accident" with Alessandro, and life had been a blur of high-stakes theater. I'd lived as Seris for seventy-two hours…studying him, smiling for him, and faking the persona of a submissive, helpless bitch. But behind closed doors, the mask slipped. I found myself dominating him in bed, a move that should have been risky, but Alessandro seemed to crave the one thing he didn't have in his real life: someone else taking the weight of the crown.
Through his drunken rants and sober bitterness, I learned the truth. The Riccis weren't a family; they were a firing squad. He hated his three brothers with a vehemence that made my blood sing. I thought of my own little sister and the dark, deadly wishes I'd harbored for her. Hate like that was a tool; it was the only language we all spoke.
Getting Alessandro obsessed was easy. A man driven by a bruised ego and the constant fear of being overthrown is the easiest mark in the world. He was cheap, really.
The Benz pulled to a stop. Guards scrambled to open our doors, their hands hovering near their holsters. I stepped out, the humid air hitting my skin. I wore a short black silk dress that was more of a weapon than a garment. It was completely backless, plunging to the base of my spine, while my hair was styled in a sleek, high-gloss blowout that fell over one shoulder like a curtain of dark water. I looked like a dream, but I felt like a nightmare. Seris was a soft girl; Sin was a predator.
Alessandro took my hand, his grip so tight it was bruising. His eyes scanned the treeline every three seconds. The estate was massive, swallowed by ancient trees that felt like they were closing in. No one would ever guess a Mafia operation was running here. I scanned the perimeter. Was this their main hub? I doubted Alessandro was stupid enough to bring an outsider to the heart of the empire, but the sheer number of tactical guards suggested this place held secrets worth dying for.
"You okay?" Alessandro asked, his voice low and jagged.
"Yeah," I offered a small, practiced smile. "Just a little nervous to meet your brothers."
His face remained a frozen mask. "I didn't think you knew how to be nervous. Don't worry. My brothers don't like anything…especially each other. Stay behind me."
I smiled, but the moment we stepped into the clearing, the warmth vanished. A massive circular table sat in the center, occupied by three men who looked like they'd been carved out of ice and gunpowder. They all turned as we approached, their hands reflexively dropping beneath the table to their laps…to their guns.
Matteo was the last to move.
Our eyes met for a fraction of a second…a spark of recognition I had to smother instantly…before his gaze shifted dismissively to his brother.
"You're late, brother," one of them said, standing up. He smelled like high-grade weed and expensive chemicals. This was Luca…the youngest, the loose cannon. He looked tired, his eyes darting around the clearing as if he expected a sniper's bullet at any second.
"And who is this?" Luca licked his lips, scanning me with a hunger that was far from subtle. He took my hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it, his eyes never leaving mine.
I gave him a subtle, shy smile.
"Oh, my," Luca teased, raising his hands in surrender as Alessandro leveled a death stare at him. "I'm fucking sorry, man," he chuckled, slumping back into his seat and gripping the arms of the chair until his knuckles turned white.
"Go sit over there," Alessandro told me, pointing to a smaller table a few yards away.
I obeyed, crossing my legs as I sat. I rested my chin on my hand, watching them. They were handsome, powerful, and utterly terrified of each other. Fools.
"Alright," Alessandro said, taking his seat. "What's this meeting for? I thought we agreed on once a month. My schedule is already so tight."
Marco, the third brother, shifted. He looked the most grounded, but his eyes were bloodshot. "And why so early? It's two in the afternoon. We usually do this at night."
"Is there an issue, Matteo?" Luca asked. All eyes turned to the middle brother. It was clear: Alessandro might be the eldest, but Matteo ran the pulse in this room.
Matteo leaned forward, his elbows hitting the table. "The mistakes you fools make are exactly why Father wonders how you're his sons. Sometimes I wonder if I'm the only one with a fucking brain in this family."
"Okay, Matteo, that's far enough," Marco
"You need to remember there are two older brothers at this table," Alessandro added, his voice like a blade. "You should learn some respect before I teach it to you."
"Yeah? Says the one who brought his slut to a high-level briefing," Matteo countered.
My eyes widened. Slut. I liked the way it sounded coming from him. A man who was clearly trying not to look at my legs.
"Why would you bring an outsider here?" Matteo spat.
Luca looked over at me, blinking as if he'd already forgotten I was there. "Oh, yeah. That's true. I actually forgot she was sitting there. I'm slipping." He let out a loud, nervous laugh that sounded more like a bark.
"How would you remember anything when you're high as fuck, fool." Matteo sneered.
Luca slammed his fist on the table, standing up so fast his chair flipped. "I'm not high today, you arrogant prick!"
Matteo didn't even flinch. He just sat back, a dark smirk playing on his lips. "Keep telling yourself that, fool."
Luca's hand stayed in a fist, trembling as if he wanted to smash Matteo's face in, but he stopped midway. He knew better. "Fuck!" Luca yelled instead, flinging his chair aside and pacing away.
The table went dead silent. The fear in the room was a living thing.
"Why can't we just communicate in peace?" Marco sighed, looking exhausted.
Matteo chuckled, grabbing a glass of wine and taking a slow, deliberate sip.
"Got something to say, Matteo?" Marco asked.
"That's just what happens when you have Matteo as a brother," Alessandro muttered.
Matteo stood up, his presence suddenly doubling in size. "Try being me for a day. Try having a father who treats you like a toy and a mother who doesn't give a fuck if you live or die."
"Well, Mama doesn't give a fuck about me either," Alessandro snapped. "And you don't see me whining."
"Me neither," Marco added.
"I can't say the same," Luca mumbled from the sidelines.
It was entertaining. They hated each other so much that they couldn't even see the predator sitting twenty feet away. My job was going to be effortless.
"And you think that's the only problem?" Matteo's voice rose. "No. I have three brothers with the brains of peas. An outsider should never be in this clearing, but that didn't cross your minds, did it? Luca forgot she was here, Marco didn't care, and Alessandro…you brought your slut here willingly."
I tilted my head, feeling a strange mix of anger and arousal. The word slut was a match to my gasoline.
"And what does her being here change?" Alessandro asked, dismissing me with a wave of his hand. "Like you said, she's just a slut."
I almost laughed out loud. I could kill every single one of them right now with the daggers strapped to my thighs. The silence stretched, four pairs of Ricci eyes finally settling on me with a mix of curiosity and contempt.
"Why don't we search her then?" Matteo suggested, his eyes dark with suspicion. "Search for cameras. Search for wires."
I chuckled softly, standing up with a slow, deliberate grace. I walked toward the main table, my red heels clicking against the dirt like a countdown.
"Which piece of clothing should I start with, boys?"