By Frenzy I Ruin (Sins of the Fathers Book 5)
By Frenzy I Ruin: Chapter 7

I grinned crookedly as Fabiano turned around himself to take in the full scope of the mess. “I thought you’d bring Luca along. Doesn’t honor dictate it?”

Fabiano slanted a look over his shoulder, grimacing. “Luca is the groom’s father. He shouldn’t have to deal with this tonight.”

“You came without a watchdog from the Famiglia?” I asked.

“He came with me,” Matteo said as he stepped up to Fabiano, with his manic shark-grin.

Fabiano stalked over to me, trying not to get blood on his beige leather shoes. No chance.

“You should have worn other shoes,” I said, pointing at my black dress shoes. They were probably ruined too, considering how squishy the inside felt, but you couldn’t see it at first glance.

“Thanks for the advice. I don’t know why I thought you’d act halfway human on a night like this.”

“You mean the night Amo fucking Vitiello takes Greta away from us?”

“He’ll probably take her virginity too,” Matteo said with a hard smile.

I tightened my hold on the samurai sword and was about to push to my feet. But Fabiano kicked his heel down on the sword at an angle that broke the blade apart. Now, I held a short zig-zag sword in my hands. “I can still kill him with this, probably even create a messier and more painful result.”

“Messier than this fuck show?” Fabiano growled, looking like he wanted to stab me with the samurai sword. He looked even more murderous than Matteo, come to think of it. He grabbed my arm tightly and jerked me up. I let him because I was fucking tired and just wanted to nap. “Drop the sword,” he hissed, and I did even that.

He began patting me down and pulled green panties from my pockets. His eyebrows rose. For a moment, I considered asking him if he knew who those belonged to, but I’d already had enough fun tonight.

“If you fucked one of our women, I’ll really enjoy slicing you up,” Matteo said, who kept his distance from me, probably because he worried he’d actually choke me with his bare hands if he came close, though that move was more Luca’s style.

“The only fun I had tonight was this.” I motioned around myself. “But I’d be up for a post-kill fuck if you have someone in mind.”

“Nobody wants to fuck you in the state you are in,” Fabiano growled, dragging me toward the exit. Again, a stupid comment lay on the tip of my tongue. It wasn’t self-preservation that stopped me, though. Funnily enough, I didn’t want to talk like that about Rory, even if it was in jest.

“You can thank me later for getting rid of the police,” Matteo said as we passed him.

“Thanks. That’s what family is for. If you ever feel like causing a bloodbath in Las Vegas, ask me. I know the best spots.”

“You’d probably try to kill me in your manic bloodlust, so no thanks.”

I couldn’t promise it wouldn’t happen, so I didn’t say anything.

Fabiano pushed me toward a black limousine and shoved me onto the passenger seat. He got in behind the steering wheel and didn’t say anything for a couple of minutes before it burst out of him. “What the fuck is wrong with you? We all thought you’d grow out of this shit.”

I chuckled. “How do you grow out of being a killer?”

Fabiano slanted me a look. “If you’re always giving in like this, it’ll control you. As a Capo and a man with a loving family, you need to be in control of it.”

“That’s why I’ll never have my own family, because I don’t want to control it.”

“Don’t want to or can’t?”

I looked out of the window. Fuck if I knew.

“If you can’t, then you should stick to your words and stay a lone wolf.”

Aurora

The next morning at breakfast, Nevio looked as if he’d had a rough night. I didn’t know details of what had transpired, only that Dad had to leave some time in the middle of the night to pick up Nevio, and he’d been in a foul mood when he’d returned.

Nevio’s dark expression probably wasn’t the result of a rough night, though. The upcoming bloody sheets show definitely had something to do with it too.

The Famiglia had established their tradition of showing the bloody sheets after a wedding night again recently, mainly to appease their conservative members. I had never witnessed a bloody sheet presentation before. Mom had always ensured we were somewhere else if one had transpired after a wedding we had attended, but in the Camorra, it rarely happened.

Today, I had decided to be present. I had to admit I was a bit curious about how these things were handled, and I wanted to see how Nevio handled it.

Eventually, Amo and Greta entered the room hand in hand, and a few women from the Famiglia presented the sheets. Embarrassment crawled up my neck when I saw the red on white. I was infinitely glad that the Camorra didn’t follow this tradition.

“It’s a barbaric tradition,” Mom said, her cheeks red and disgust twisting her lips.

“That’s the Famiglia for you,” Dad said.

I really wasn’t sure if Dad had reason to bash the Famiglia. The Camorra was barbaric in its own way, and I knew that many of the conservatives in our circle expected bloody sheets too, even if it wasn’t officially approved of by the Capo.

Suddenly, a knife with a burning napkin attached to it hurtled through the room and pierced the sheets, which caught fire immediately. A few seconds later, they were completely aflame, and the fire alarm was set off. Cold water splashed down on us and everyone around.

I sucked in a sharp breath, my pulse picking up. The sound of laughter turned my head to where Nevio, Alessio, and Massimo were obviously celebrating. Nevio’s eyes met mine, and he gave me a wink. This reminded me of yesterday, how he’d simply taken my panties. Had he thrown them away?

Why would he keep them?

We’d been back home in Las Vegas for a week, but tonight was the first time I would spend with the Unholy Trinity again.

I’d texted Greta a couple of times, and she’d seemed happy, but Nevio had been impossible to grab, so I wasn’t sure how he was handling the separation from his twin.

Carlotta was allowed to spend the night at my place, so she and I went over to the Falcone premises around the time of our agreed meeting. We were supposed to have a movie night in Greta’s former ballet studio, which had now been transformed into a cinema and gaming room with a pool table, dartboard, and a retro pinball machine. The guys were already inside when we arrived, spread out on the comfy armchairs in front of the TV. Carlotta and I shared the loveseat. Nevio was laughing at something Alessio had said. At first glance, he seemed perfectly at ease, but something in his eyes told me that wasn’t the whole story.

As usual, we watched an action movie. Despite multiple discussions, they refused to watch anything that held a hint of emotional depth.

Usually, Diego picked up Carlotta at ten at the latest. He was strict with the curfew, but she was allowed to spend the night at my place today. At some point during the movie, I must have dozed off because the next thing I remembered was lying in near darkness with the TV off and without Carlotta by my side.

A shadow fell over me. My heart rate picked up.

“You missed the best part of the movie,” Nevio said from above me.

I squinted up at him. He was half bent over me as if he was about to pick me up.

We were the only people still in the room. “Where’s Carlotta?” I asked, sitting up in full concern mode. I would have smashed my forehead against Nevio’s if he hadn’t moved back quickly. The amused twitch of his mouth made me curse myself inwardly. This would have been the perfect moment for a kiss, right? And I messed it up. Well done, Rory, you stupid klutz.

“Massimo is carrying her over to your house. He didn’t want to disturb her beauty sleep.”

“Oh,” I said hesitantly. Was that okay for Carlotta? Diego would definitely throw a fit if he found out.

Nevio stood. “She’s safe, don’t worry.”

He held out his hand and pulled me to my feet, bringing us close once more. And again the realization that we were alone in the studio crashed into my head.

His pondering face was close to mine and slowly morphed into a mischievous expression.

“Your dad found your panties in my pocket when he picked me up on the night of the wedding.”

“What?” Utter horror mixed with mortification flooded me. “Did you tell him they were mine?”

Nevio cocked an eyebrow, on the verge of laughter judging from the twitch of his mouth.

Of course he hadn’t. We wouldn’t be standing here if he had. “He would have kicked your ass.”

Nevio smirked. “He would have tried to kill me. He was pissed off at me anyway.”

I nodded, still trying not to freak out over the fact that Dad had found my panties in Nevio’s pocket. Then another thought struck me. “Why did you have them with you anyway? You were supposed to throw them away.”

“Must have forgotten, was a busy night after all,” he said with a shrug, as if it was everyday business to carry my panties around in his pocket, and nodded toward the door. “Come on. I’ll take you home.”

I tried to figure out if he’d told the truth, but I didn’t want to make a bigger deal out of this than it was. Nevio had probably seen hundreds of girl panties in his life. Why would he care about mine?

“I walk our premises alone all the time,” I said, then wanted to kick myself. If Nevio wanted to spend more time with me alone, I should be the last person to argue.

“Strange things happen all the time,” Nevio said ominously.

We left the studio together and strolled over the lawn toward my home. Two windows were still illuminated, the living room where Dad or Mom were probably still waiting for my return, and the other was my bedroom window.

“Will you and the rest of the trio go out tonight?” I asked curiously. It wasn’t even midnight yet, so I suspected they still had something more entertaining to do than watch sleeping girls.

Nevio looked up at the night sky with a sly smile. “I think the night is ripe with opportunity, so yes.”

I wondered if that meant they would head to a club or go out on one of their raids. The first time I’d realized what they did at night—or the basics of what they did—I had been utterly devastated and shocked, though I wasn’t even sure why. Dad had always told me that the Unholy Trinity was dangerous—not for me, thank God—and that I shouldn’t let them pull me into their trouble. I followed Nevio’s gaze up to the sky, wondering what exactly drew him to the night, to the darkness.

“I like how peaceful nights are,” I said softly.

Nevio smirked. “Of course, you do, Rory.” He drew in a deep breath as if he was sniffing the air for a trail. “I like how much potential for havoc the darkness holds. The same night sky, two very different perspectives.”

I didn’t know what to say to that, so I nodded. Once again, it felt like a simple conversation attempt had brought even more distance between us. The back door to our patio swung open, and Dad waited in the doorway.

Nevio tipped an invisible head. “Where’s Massimo?”

“At your mansion,” Dad said and motioned for me to come in. I stepped up to his side. “Thanks for taking me home.”

Dad glanced between Nevio and me. “Always the gentleman,” he said dryly.

Nevio grinned at him, waved at me, and left. Soon, his tall form disappeared in the shadows.

“Carlotta is up in your bedroom with your mom.”

“Okay,” I said with a tired smile.

Dad was watching me in a way I couldn’t quite place, and I was too tired to try. Trying not to embarrass myself in front of Nevio had taken enough out of me.

When I arrived at my door, Mom just pulled it shut. “There you are. Carlotta is getting ready.”

Mom pressed a kiss to my cheek, and I slipped into my bedroom. I turned off the main light in favor of my dimmed down night-light, then I perched on the windowsill. It didn’t take long until three shadows moved across the lawn, dressed in black. They carried backpacks, and Alessio wore a black balaclava. A shiver passed my spine.

“I don’t know why they have to do this at night when they’re already doing so much for the Camorra during the day,” Carlotta murmured when she came up behind me.

I’d often asked myself that question too. “Maybe it’s the thrill of the forbidden.”

“I wonder if this is more Nevio’s doing, and Alessio and Massimo just join him out of solidarity.”

I pursed my lips. “Alessio and Massimo aren’t innocent bystanders either.”

“I know,” Carlotta said softly, but I could hear that she disagreed.

I had been surprised when Mom and Dad had agreed to let me go to Roger’s Arena on a fight night. For a long time, even my argument that Davide had been allowed to go for a while had seemed invalid in comparison to their need to protect me. Dad was overly protective of me, but in this case, I was certain that Mom had been the one who had been against it more. She loathed the cage fights and was anxious weeks before Dad’s fights. They had become less frequent in recent years, but on occasion, he and the Falcone brothers still showed their strength in the cages.

“Are you sure you don’t want to ride with us?” Mom asked again as I put on my favorite white sneakers in our entry hall.

“She’ll be fine, Leona,” Dad said with a hint of amusement. “Let her soak up the pre-fight atmosphere with the trio.”

Mom sank her teeth into her lower lip. “I’m just worried they’re already too caught up in their fight mode and will be reckless.”

“It’s a short drive, and I’m sure Massimo will be the one driving.” Dad went over to Mom and grabbed her shoulders, rubbing them lightly. “Relax. You’re tenser than on my fight nights.”

I giggled. “Mom, you realize I won’t be in the cage tonight, right?”

Mom huffed. “You two shouldn’t gang up on me. And trust me, Aurora, seeing a fight on screen and seeing it live are two very different things.”

I had watched only one recorded fight a couple of days ago. It had been one of Dad’s old fights, and it had made me squeamish. Not because of the blood—I had no trouble with that, but the brutality with which Dad had acted had unsettled me. I only knew a different version of him. I could only imagine how much more impressive it would be to see a live fight, especially as I’d heard stories of how brutal the fights of the trio were.

My phone beeped with a message from Carlotta.

On my way.

I smiled in relief. I had worried that Carlotta would bail. She wasn’t too fond of blood and definitely didn’t enjoy fighting as much as her sister, Gemma, did, who had had fight training when she was our age. Diego would drive her to the fight, though. He was in the arena more than any other Camorrista because of his wife, Antonia, who had inherited the bar from her father, Roger.

I got up and regarded myself critically in the mirror. It had probably taken me way too long to decide what to wear to an event where nobody would be dressed up or pay attention to what I was wearing. Eventually, I’d settled on tight black jeans and a burgundy off-the-shoulder crop top.

“It’s cool inside the arena. You should put a cardigan on,” Dad said pointedly.

Mom rolled her eyes. “It’s sweltering in there. She’ll be fine.”

I bit my lip, close to laughing. The doorbell rang, and Dad opened it after a look at the camera. Nevio stood in front of the door. It was the first time someone other than Carlotta picked me up at my door. Usually, I went over to the Falcone mansion when I spent time with the trio. This felt oddly like a date, even if I knew it definitely wasn’t.

Nevio was dressed in black pants, a black tee, and black sneakers, nothing out of the ordinary, and his grin wasn’t as tense as I would have expected on the night of a fight.

Dad appeared behind me and put a hand on my shoulder. His expression was hostile. He acted as if Nevio and I had a date, and he had to scare him to behave. My cheeks warmed, and I nudged his side inconspicuously with my elbow. What was his problem? He could see Alessio and Massimo in the car in front of our house. This definitely wasn’t a date.

“Get Aurora to the arena safely.”

Nevio didn’t seem overly concerned by Dad’s threatening undertone. “Massimo is driving, and I don’t need road rage to get me in the mood for a bloody fight.”

Dad shook his head, one corner of his mouth pulling up in a way that suggested he knew.

“Come on, Rory, before your dad delivers a few more threats he picked up in chick flicks.” Stifling laughter, I stepped up beside Nevio and followed him to the car. He opened the back door for me so I could climb in. Now this really felt like a date. A date with his two best friends along for the ride…

“We’ll arrive shortly after you,” Dad said as a way of goodbye, making it sound more like a warning than a mere piece of information.

“Not if Massimo races through every red light on the way,” Nevio shouted as he closed my door, then hopped into the passenger seat. Dad gave him a look that suggested he would join his opponent in the cage tonight and give him a thrashing.

Nevio waved, and with squealing tires, Massimo pulled the car away from the driveway.

I looked back to see Dad still watching our departure. He was pissed.

Nevio turned up the music, something about a “pelvis being on fire,” which made me pull a face—because of the lyrics and the melody.

“A good night for a fight,” Nevio mused, his arm propped up on the rolled down window as the wind tore at his hair.

Nevio didn’t seem to be in fight mode. He was relaxed and in a joking mood, as if we were heading to a party.

I was surprised that he didn’t take this fight seriously. Massimo was silent and focused. Maybe that was because he was driving, but I had a feeling it had more to do with his fight, and Alessio had earphones in, and his eyes were closed. That was how I imagined someone to look who was about to get into a potentially life-threatening fight. It happened a few times a year that people died in the cage, and in recent years, the number had grown. From what I heard, it was mainly because of Nevio’s fights.

Massimo parked the car in one of the designated spots in front of Roger’s Arena. I had to admit I was nervous about tonight. I didn’t want to embarrass myself in front of everyone. I hopped out of the car, and Nevio joined my side, strolling along like this was business as usual. A few customers stood outside of the bar to smoke, and they mustered us curiously as we passed them by.

“Nervous?” Nevio asked as we headed toward the steel door of Roger’s Arena. I’d never been inside before, but Carlotta had told me many stories because she had accompanied Diego there during closing hours on occasion to visit Antonia.

I gave him an embarrassed smile. “Shouldn’t I ask you that question? I’m not going to enter a cage for a brutal fight.”

Nevio flashed me a grin that was full of eagerness. “Are you nervous before you step on your skateboard?”

“No, but it’s not the same.”

“Why? Fighting is in my blood. When you step on the skateboard, you risk your health too.”

“The risk is low. You know you’ll get hurt when you step inside the cage. It’s inevitable. If I perform a trick well, I definitely won’t even suffer a bruise.” I had had a few harder falls in the past, but nothing too bad, not even a broken bone so far. My brother, though he’d been skating for fewer years, had already suffered a broken arm and rib. Of course, he sometimes acted like a lunatic, which made accidents more likely.

“I don’t mind getting hurt, and I know my opponent will be far worse off than me.”

There wasn’t a bouncer at the door. I suppose if you entered the arena intending to cause trouble, there would be many willing participants to teach you a lesson you wouldn’t soon forget.

“It’s more unsettling for spectators to watch Nevio fight than for him to actually do it,” Alessio muttered as he stepped up to us. It was the first time he’d taken his earphones out, but an air of concentration still surrounded him.

Nevio opened the door for me and winked at Alessio. “That’s just how I like it.”