Shattered By Control

“I know what you’re thinking,” he says quietly, his voice intense and deep. “You’re wondering why you’d trade one mafia for another. But my family isn’t like the Brunos. Not everyone in my clan is a fighter and not all of them are fair game. We protect our people, especially our women. We don’t kill them or marry them off or force them to live cloistered existences behind tall white walls out in the desert. In my family, everyone’s equal, everyone’s treated with respect.” His speech has the feel of a long-rehearsed act and I wonder how many people he’s convinced with it. “You’re only an employee to them, and you’ll never be more. But I’m offering you something bigger, Mirella. I’m offering you a life and a place in my family.”

“And what will I have to do to earn it?” I ask, a fire lighting in my chest. For all his talk of family and equality, in the end he needs something from me. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here. This man doesn’t give a damn about me any more than a stranger would, except I’m useful to him right now because I have access to his enemy.

And he doesn’t realize my relationship with Fynn yet. If he did, I think this conversation would be going very differently. He’s trying to convince me by making me hate the Brunos and want to be a part of the O’Shea clan, but if he knew what was happening between Fynn and me beyond our business relationship, he’d be pressing at every fracture, every fault, every little hole he can get his poisoned fingers into. He’d tear us apart, bit by bit. I can’t let that happen.

“I won’t ask a lot,” he says slowly, a smile tugging at his lips like he’s trying to hold it back. “I supposed I could pretend and say nothing, nothing, you don’t have to do a thing, but that’d be a lie. You were right when you said we’re strangers to each other, so if you want me to trust you, I’ll need you to trust me in return.”

“I’m guessing your idea of trust involves spying.”

He laughs once, sharp and short. “That’s about right.”

“That’s really it then? You want me to spy on the Bruno family, and in exchange you’ll let me become an O’Shea?”

“More than that, Mirella. I’ll adopt you as my sister and give you a place at the top of our family. We really do believe in equality. I mean that when I said it.”

It’s almost too absurd. He thinks I’d ever want to be a mafia queen, even with real power. He’s so deep in his own game, so buried by his life of crime and his little war, that he can’t possibly imagine someone wanting anything else.

“You must not know me at all,” I say, inching away from him. “If you think that’s going to tempt me, you’re wrong.”

“Ah, I see, so power’s not your thing. What is then? Money? Fame? I can make you go viral on TikTok if you’d like.” He’s grinning openly now, joking around like this is some silly play. “It’ll be mostly bots sharing your content but at least it’ll get views.”

“I want something you can’t give me.”

“And what’s that?”

“Safety. For me and my mother. You can talk all about equality and protecting your family and all that, but I don’t believe you at all. You wouldn’t have kidnapped me like this and dragged me here if you were anything more than a high-minded thug.”

His expression slowly falls. His smile slips away, replaced by something else, something cold. The real man behind the mask. The killer he’s always been.

“A high-minded thug, I almost like that. But here’s the thing. Right now, I’m bargaining with you. I’m making suggestions and offers. Soon, I’ll stop bargaining. Soon, I’ll go to your mother’s house, cut off her toes, and make you fucking eat them. Then you’ll work for me just to keep her alive. We could do it that way, but that’s not how I want to play it. You are my half-sister, after all.”

I feel sick. He’d do it—I can see it in his eyes. He’d hurt my mother, an old woman, just to get what he wants and he’d do it without remorse. I don’t doubt it one bit. My brother is a psychopath and he’s the dangerous, violent leader of a massive conglomerate of killers and thieves, and if I forget that for a second, he’ll make me pay.

“Threaten my mother again. Go ahead, see how that works for you.” I’m bluffing, of course. If he keeps threatening my mother, I’ll probably break down and cry. The sick thing is, I’ll do whatever he asks to keep my mother safe, and I desperately don’t want her getting involved in this at all.