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Unholy Intent (Unholy Union 2)

Page 22

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“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.13CristinaI’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.



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