His Brother's Obsession, Her Mafia Throne

Vitiel

shadows across the scratched wooden floor of the art studio.

lade hovered inches from a pristine white canvas. My wrist ached from ho

y place I didn't have to be the perfect Vitie

black oil paint. The thick, dark pigment oozed onto t

eared the black paint with violent, erratic motions. The metal blade

allowed the white space. It looked exactly how my c

a piercing ringtone. It was the specific, custo

grasp, clattering onto the floor and smearing th

from the roll, and wiped my hands aggressive

rough the speaker. I had to pull the phone a few inches awa

ay after being abandoned at the altar. Instead, he

s. I clamped my jaw shut, the muscles along m

oice laced with pure disgust. "You have made the Vitiello

y," I said, my voice t

r snapped, cutting

f a cigar. When my father spoke again, his voice had dropped an oct

p the alliance completely, you

s. A man notorious in our world for his sadistic me

s turned to ice. My

shaking with a mixture of pu

augh. "The Vitiello family does

ys. You will crawl back into Dante's bed, by whatever

of the disconnected call pounded against

el and hit the floor, landing hard in a puddle o

perate breaths. I pulled my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around my

uined, torn black

pty walls of the studio. The laughter tore through my chest, and finally, the tea

more than that, I hated myself for being stupid enou

The black paint from my fingers smeared ac

I turned on the cold water and splashed it onto my face repeatedly, the freezing temper

forward, staring at my reflection. I looked

than become a plaything for that Russian mons

If the Vitiellos needed an alliance with the Mor

to a monster, I will pick the