Julian’s discarded shirt is on the floor, so I walk to his closet to find something else to wear. I don’t have any clothes here with me.
I dig through his button-downs when I come across a bag stuffed in the back of his closet. The moment I see it, my heart starts pounding, fast. I know it’s something I won’t want to see instinctively, but I can’t stop myself. I reach for it, pulling the bag free of the spot in the wardrobe where it’s been wedged between the wall and the wood.
My worst nightmares come true as I pull the soaked shirt from the plastic bag. It’s one of Julian’s shirts, the brand I’ve always seen him wear around campus.
And it’s soaked in crusted, dark blood.
22
JULIAN
Past
“Are you Leonardo Brambilla?”
The bastard turns around, facing me. We look similar, maybe to an outsider’s eyes. But really, there’s nothing alike between us.
Leonardo Brambilla is the guy I’ve spent my whole life hating.
“Who’s asking?” he smirks, flicking his cigarette away while it’s still lit. “I don’t seem to know you. You someone important?”
I grit my teeth in annoyance. I’ve known the guy for all but a minute and I already fucking hate him. “I’m a Bernardi,” I hiss.
“Which one?” he laughs. “Bruno’s actual son or one of the dumb adopted puppies he seems to be so intent on collection?”
I snarl an insult at him, making him grin even wider.
“I guess that answers my question, then.”
“I heard you’re freshly engaged,” I mutter, approaching him menacingly. My gun feels heavy behind my back, reminding me I can use it anytime. But I didn’t come here to kill Leonardo Brambilla. I just came here to warn him to stay the fuck away from Francesca.
“That’s right,” he nods thoughtfully. “Stunner, that one. She’ll be easy enough to break in. You jealous, orphan boy?”
I don’t respond. The weight of my gun has never felt heavier and I’m so fucking tempted to just pull it out and send a bullet through Leonardo’s brains here and now. But I can’t get ahead of myself. I need to keep my composure.
“You met her?” I ask in a low snarl, and he nods in response. I’m starting to get the feeling he’s enjoying this, enjoying rubbing this in my face.
I doubt Leonardo knows about Francesca and me. Her father did his best to keep it under wraps, and I don’t think anyone but the four of us, including Bruno, has found out.
“What’s she like?” I ask.
“Why do you care?”
I shrug. “Just making small talk. Plus, I heard rumors about the girl.”
He smirks, stepping away from the pier he’s standing on. There’s a lake right next to campus, known as a makeout spot and a place where people go to smoke and drink. It’s early morning right now, and there’s no one here but us.
I could kill him right now. It would be so fucking easy.
Mentally, I chastise myself again, reminding myself he has done nothing to deserve it.
“What you heard about Francesca, then?” Leonardo wonders.
“That she’s a slut,” I mutter, mimicking his smirk and lying through gritted teeth. “Easy on the eyes and easy to get in bed.”
“Well, that couldn’t be farther from the truth,” Leonardo mutters. “Bitch is frigid as fuck. I heard rumors she wasted her virginity, though. Small fucking wonder she didn’t let me between those legs the moment she met me.”
“Maybe the girl has some self-respect left.”
“Excuse me?” His thunderous eyes find mine.
“I said, maybe she has some self-respect left,” I repeat with a confident smirk. “What, you think you’re so fucking irresistible because you’re a Brambilla?”
“What the fuck do you know about me besides my last name, orphan boy?”
“Enough.”
“Enough to be jealous... Oh, wait.” Now his eyes glint with dark pleasure. “So you’re the guy. The one who swiped my bride-to-be’s V-card before I got there.”
I don’t respond. I don’t trust myself to. This makes him laugh out loud.
“You hung up on her, orphan boy? Well, she’s mine now. Don’t worry, I’ll fucking rape her in your honor.”
My hand flies behind my back, holding onto the gun I always have with me. “What did you just fucking say?”
“I’ll take good care of her,” he laughs, showing off his perfect teeth. He reminds me of his father.
“Hurt her even more just to piss you off.”
“You don’t even like her?”
“That’s not how marriages work in the mafia,” he mutters. “You should know that by now. I’ll knock her up a few times and keep her prisoner in a pretty cage. She’ll be happy. As happy as a captive can be.”
I grit my teeth together. “You don’t deserve her.”
“And for some reason, you think you do?” He comes up close, not realizing the danger he’s putting himself in. “Tough fucking luck, orphan boy. She’s mine to abuse, and I’ll never let you see her again. I can’t wait to force myself inside her for the very first-“