Sweet and Vicious(Margarelli Brothers 1)

Rumor had it, our great-grandfather had been given the deed to settle an outstanding debt. Zero cash had exchanged hands, just paperwork and keys. Either way, it had been in our family for over a hundred years and would likely be for a hundred more.

If either of us actually deigned to procreate, that is.

“It’s time I stepped aside.”

I sat up a little straighter, the last cobwebs of my hangover disappearing in an instant. My father retiring? In the mob, you usually retired when someone did it for you, with a bullet and cement shoes. Things were a little less violent than they’d been twenty years ago, but not by much.

Bloodshed was simply the cost of doing business. Our kind of business, anyway. I wasn’t squeamish about it. Neither was Vince. But we tried not to kill anybody needlessly.

Our father, on the other hand, had always seemed to enjoy hurting people. He wasn’t even subtle about it. He went out of his way to torture and kill. Even his own people, if they so much as stepped out of line.

Even his sons.

Nothing permanently disfiguring when it came to us, but I did have some scars from when he used the business end of his belt. The side with the buckle.

More than a few scars.

It had never stopped me from misbehaving.

“You will always be an integral part of the family, Tony, but I want Vincent to take charge. I’ll always be here to advise you, but I’ll be down in Boca with Candy.”

Ah. So that was it. His hot new piece was down in Florida. Southern California wasn’t hot enough for her to walk around in bikinis all day, apparently.

I highly doubted he would really retire-retire. The old man was too power hungry. Something my older brother had in common with him, though to a lesser degree. Something I did not.

I was more than happy to let someone else wear the crown.

“I will support Vince in whatever he does,” I said easily. And I would. I fucking loved my big brother and I trusted his judgment. He was a lot fucking smarter than Pops, truth be told.

Vincent was pretty much smarter than anybody.

Me? I was intelligent and street smart, but I made too many dumbass mistakes to be the genius they said I was. We’d both had aptitude tests with the private tutors brought in for us as kids. We both scored high enough on the IQ test to join Mensa.

The difference was, my brother used his brains. He made investments. Legit ones. He was moving the family further and further from illegal activities, although that would never happen entirely. Not with my father’s dirty little fingers in the pie.

I used my smarts to read thick books and convince women to do what I wanted. Not sex. They didn’t need convincing for that.

I used my brains to talk them into leaving afterward. And never coming back.

“You’ll always be my second, Antonio,” Vincent rumbled in his deep voice. I nodded. I’d expected nothing less. I’d never expected, or wanted, to take over for Pops.

I shook my father’s hand and my brother’s and stood to leave. His hand landed on my shoulder as we entered the long hallway that led to the entry foyer, which was bigger than some people’s houses. It was elegant and spacious with a marble floor, columns, and a domed ceiling. It wasn’t tacky, though. It was stunning.

The gold furniture Candy had started adding here and there was hideous, however. Tacky as hell and nothing like my mother’s or grandmother’s style. Thankfully, she’d moved to Florida before she could get her hands on too much of the house.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

I nodded. “You are the firstborn. I never wanted to run the family.” I slapped his back and pulled him in for a hug. “Better you than me, Brother.”

Vince hugged me back, hard.

“I need you, little brother. I don’t want any of Dad’s old cronies to think they can advise me. I want you to do that. You’re smarter than all of them put together, if you would only fucking apply yourself.”

I snorted. It was an old story, but I wasn’t going to stand for it if Vince was going to take over for Dad in the ‘let’s whip Tony into shape’ department. I was immune to criticism.

Praise, on the other hand . . .

“We need to present a united front or some of these goombahs could get ideas. You are my backbone. You need to stay strong.”

I stared at him. He was saying that he wanted me to lead with him. He needed me to step it up.

Well, fuck. It looked like my wild partying days were over. Or at least, I’d have to be more circumspect. Not lose control. No more drinking till 4 a.m.

Not that I was giving up my womanizing, but maybe it was time to slow down, anyway. I’d been getting kind of bored with the endless stream of easy women. Not that I wanted to settle down yet, if ever.