Strange to think of that. That this mirror image of me has changed so drastically.
“Get a good look?” he asks, lifting his gaze to mine. Elise pours him a cup of coffee when she enters.
She smiles at him. She’s always favored him. I think it’s because he’s the one father had groomed to take over the business. Loyalty to the next generation so she wouldn’t lose her position or some shit.
She tried to ingratiate herself to me when it became apparent I would be the one to take over, but I wasn’t buying her bullshit. I don’t forgive and I never forget.
Why do I keep her here now, though? So she knows my hand is the one that feeds her. And it’s the one that can choke her.
Not that she’s worth the effort.
“How many surgeries have you had?” I ask him when she’s gone.
“Lost track,” he says, sipping his coffee.
“Why did you leave?” Lucas left the house after Annabel’s death. I didn’t realize he wasn’t coming back until he didn’t. And I can’t put my finger on what I felt at his abrupt departure. I mean, it opened things up for me, but I didn’t like it. Hell, maybe it was guilt at being in the driver’s seat that night. Or guilt that what happened to him was so much worse than what happened to me.
What happened to everyone was so much worse than what happened to me.
Elise returns to place a plate of food in front of Lucas. He waits until she’s gone to answer me.
“Why did I leave? I was only staying for Annabel.”
Guilt again.
Fuck.
I look away, putting my cup down. I couldn’t swallow if I tried.
“You break everything you touch,” he says.
“I loved our sister.”
“You still broke her.”
Gritting my teeth, I shift my gaze back to his, making sure I mask any emotion.
“You’re going to break her too.” He gestures upstairs.
I don’t breathe. I just listen to my heartbeat against my chest. Slow and steady. Under control.
“Unless she breaks you first,” he adds with a grin.
“My wife is not your concern. Just make sure you stay away from her. You know the rules.”
“I do,” he says, his tone letting me know he won’t be subject to them. “You want me to tell you I’ll keep my hands to myself? Will that make you feel better?”
Bastard.
I choose not to engage.
“Now that you’re home, you’ll be going back to work for me.” I shift conversation toward business. Those are the rules too. The family comes first. That means the family business. We all have to chip in and the days of Lucas getting a free ride because of that goddamned accident are over.
“And what would you have me do, Brother?” he asks, the distaste in his tone not so subtle.
“Keep an eye on the Clementi brothers. I don’t trust them.”
“Why not get rid of them?”
“I need you to manage them. Watch them closely. That’s all.”
“Is it because the old man was your godfather? Please don’t tell me you’ve become so sentimental, Brother.”
“They’ve been punished.”
“Did it send enough of a message, though?”
“What would you have me do, kill them?”
“Just one of them.”
I study my brother. “That’s not what you would have suggested before.”
“You don’t know me like you think you do.”
“If it’s too much to ask, say the word, and I’ll cut you loose. Out of the family business for good.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
I shrug a shoulder.
“Like I said, you don’t know me. You never did,” he says.
“What’s the matter? Are you pissed that while you were gone doing whatever the fuck it was you were doing I did the job you were supposed to do? And now that you’re back, you want in? You want to take my place? Let me guess, you think I usurped your throne. But let me tell you something. I earned it.”
“Let me ask you a question. How happy are you, Damian?”
I feel my face harden.
“Is taking your seat as head of the family everything you ever wanted? What do you rule over? A house of hate? What do you have? More money than you’ll ever know what to do with?”
“Let me ask you one in return, Brother. Why have you returned if not to take back what should have been yours? What would have been yours had you stayed. Had you manned up and done what you were supposed to do.”
I see his jaw tighten. His eyes narrow.
“Do you have everything you ever wanted in an unwilling bride?” he asks, continuing as if I haven’t spoken. “I wonder if you’ll repeat the cycle. If she’ll birth twin boys. Brothers born holding hands who go through life with those same hands wrapped around each other’s necks. And what happens to her then? You keep her like Dad kept Mom, knowing how unhappy she was?”
I drag a slow breath in through my nose.
“I’m curious. Did you do it to spite our father? Marrying the daughter of the man who destroyed our family instead of punishing her like you were meant to do?”
“I’m curious too, Lucas. Would you have punished her. Would you do to her what our father intended? You’re not that cruel, are you? Although you never did stand up for those who couldn’t defend themselves, did you?”
He knows exactly what I mean but he manages to keep his expression unchanged. Frozen. Like his heart. “You don’t have feelings for her, do you, Damian? That’s not what this is about, I hope. For your sake.”
I push my chair back and get to my feet. “Keep an eye on the Clementi brothers. Anything goes wrong with the next shipment. I’m holding you responsible.” I walk away and try to block out his chuckle.
“Take care, Brother. You don’t want your enemies to learn your weakness.”
I flip him off over my shoulder, not bothering to turn around.
13
Cristina
I’m starving and my head is pounding.
It’s almost noon when I can’t stand it anymore. I walk out of my room and go downstairs to find something to eat.
The dagger Michela gave me is in my pocket. I make my way silently down the hall and through the maze of corridors that I’m now learning. It’s quiet in the main part of the house. I’m not sure where Damian is, but I need to eat something, and I need to get out of this room. Out of this house. Take a walk or something.
A fire burns in the fireplace of the foyer. They must always keep it going. Even with a modern heating system, I’m sure this house is too big and too old to heat without them especially in these bigger spaces with the vaulted ceilings.
The living and dining rooms are empty, the table cleared, and I don’t hear a soul anywhere. I listen at the kitchen door, but it’s silent, so I push it open, relieved when I find it empty. But even if someone were in here, they can’t tell me I can’t have something to eat. I live here now. They can’t starve me.
On the counter is a basket stuffed with muffins and rolls. I take the biggest muffin I see, break off a piece, and put it in my mouth. It’s good. Pumpkin.