Chapter Two
Alex
Breakfast lures me into the dining room, where I discover a delectable spread of pancakes, bacon, cheesy eggs, and sliced apples waiting to be eaten. After loading a plate, I settle into the chair at the end of the table, the one where my mother typically sits. The look of annoyance on her face when she walks into the dining room fuels me more than the cup of coffee I’ve just poured for myself.
Clearing her throat, she wanders past the breakfast spread and sits in the chair beside me. “Good morning.”
I glare at her out of my peripheral vision. “Good morning.”
“Eating a lot today, huh?”
“I need my strength.”
She snorts. “For what? You’re not the one suffering here.”
“I wish you would open your eyes, woman.”
“You can’t speak to me like that,” she argues while reaching for an empty mug. While she pours coffee into it, she adds, “And you can’t keep me from accessing the accounts.”
I tap my temple. “I believe I can.”
“This won’t fix anything.”
“Oh? Does something need fixing between us?”
While she glowers with anger, I feel the distance between us widen. It’s weird to think that last night could have been her very last night on earth had things gone differently with our shadowy intruder. And even so, I would have defended my mother while she slept.
But her inability to handle even the slightest degree of care is evidence enough that she can’t handle the family accounts. I’m aware of what she’s up to.
And I want it to fucking stop.
She sighs loudly while dropping a few cubes of sugar into her coffee. “You can’t do this forever.”
“I think I can, Mother. I’d be careful what you say next or else you’ll be penniless by the new year.”
“You can’t do that,” she retorts with a smug grin, “because Amos is also named on the accounts.”
I shrug. “Then he’ll be penniless too.”
Her frown returns as ugly and deep as ever, curving over the ridges of her chin. Up close like this, I can see her age, how being married to a mobster took its toll on her beauty. Pictures of my mother in her youth reveal a prim and proper woman, one who took extra care of her appearance. I suppose that’s something we have in common—though I’m far more successful at it.
It makes me feel villainous to act this way with my mother, but she gives me no other choice. If she wants to act like a child, then I’ll treat her like a child. I’ll see how long she can keep up the bratty attitude before she finally caves. Besides, I need to have part of the estate under my control. I’m a fucking Moretti, and I need to start acting like one.
The rest of breakfast is quiet. One of the things my mother taught me early on was how to wage a silent war—and such battles as we hold in the privacy of our home. It’s a wonder either of us are still standing with the kind of things we could do to each other. But at the end of the day, I’m still her daughter and she’s still my mother despite how awful it feels at the moment.
Part of me loves her. I can’t deny that.
When I’m finished eating, I catch a ride with Demetra to school. Returning to the polished hallways of Macedon High is a strangely welcome reprieve from the nightmarish hell happening at home. It’s hard to believe that this school exists within the same social structure as murder and mayhem.
I clutch my books to my chest while Demetra strolls beside me. On her face is a handsome smile, one that conveys her contentedness. My jealousy spikes and I hunch over my books, leading her down the hallway to our first class.
“I’m not valued,” I tell her in confidence once the crowds thin. “I’m treated as an asset to be negotiated with by my own damn mother.”
She frowns sympathetically. “I hate that for you, Alex.”
“It seems like nobody is on my side. I’m all alone here. This isolation is starting to kill me, Demetra. It’s like no one understands what it’s like being under the alphas’ thumb.”
She touches my shoulder gently, the right corner of her mouth quirking up with a reassuring grin. “Hey, I’m on your side. You always have me in your corner.”