Page 55 of Bitter Prince

I clenched my teeth, willing that picture out of my mind. “Fine.”

“What does that mean?” Dante questioned me, agitated. “Did she tell you anything about her father, or was she so desperate for your dick that she sidetracked you both?”

I loved my brother, but today might be the day I knocked him out. At least that’d keep him quiet for a while.

“We didn’t get sidetracked.”Lies.I never even told her the reason I pulled her aside. I’d planned on asking whether she knew where her father’s safe was. Something told me she’d tell me. My cinnamon girl was so trusting, it raised the hair on the back of my neck in warning.

“Are you sure?” he said with suspicion on his face.

“Yes,” I gritted.

“Did you fuck her?” Red mist marred my vision. Something about my brother insinuating anything intimate about Reina had fury flaring in me.

“No,” I grunted. “But if you ask that question again, I’m going to smash your pretty face.”

“Guess she didn’t want you,” Dante taunted, rolling his eyes.

“Guess not.” It was better to let him believe that. It’d save me a long conversation.

“Well, you can dictate pretty much everything, but you can’t dictate a woman wanting a dick, even if it’s yours.” No such luck with him dropping it. Sometimes I wondered if Dante lived to make me snap. I cracked the window, needing that cinnamon scent to drift away. It was hard to think with it all around me. Sirens, the honking of vehicles, and even Italian curses came through the cracked window. “We could swap and I’ll take Reina.”

“No.” The word cut through the air with a sharp undertone, almost a growl, and a corner of Dante’s lips lifted knowingly. He knew me well enough to realize that slowly but surely, Reina was getting under my skin. So I decided to change it around. “How did it go with Phoenix?”

His expression darkened. “I should have gotten Reina. Less headache. I can’t even talk to her, typing in the Notes app back and forth is getting old.”

“Then learn ASL,” I snapped. “That’s what I’m doing.”

“More reason for you to take Phoenix.”

He didn’t fool me; I knew my brother. The tension simmering between them didn’t escape me. I’d noticed it back at the club and each time those two had shared a look since.

“Work on your plan with Phoenix, and staythe fuckaway from Reina.” My eyes narrowed on him as my temper threatened to flare. “Now answer the question. Did you learn anything from Phoenix?”

“No,” he gritted. “She refuses to talk to me.”

“Well, well, well. It seems she hasn’t been dicknotized, brother. You’ve got to up your game.”

Maybe that was the ultimate destiny of the Leone brothers. To be brought to their knees by the Romero sisters.

26

REINA

Aday had gone by since my first kiss. Two days since we arrived in Venice. Twelve years since I’d stepped foot in my mamma’s room.

Everyone was still asleep when I cracked open the door to the past and drifted into the room draped in white sheets and secrets. Maybe even nightmares.

My eyes scoured the space, trying to evoke anything that could replace the memory of her death. Was she happy here at all? Did she smile? I couldn’t remember. The only thing I knew for certain was she ended it all here.

I made my way into the en suite and caught my reflection, ghosts lurking in my eyes. The same bathroom where she’d taken her life. The same bathroom that altered our life forever.

My stomach grew queasy and cold prickles erupted all over my skin. My heart drummed, causing sharp pain to thrum with each beat. The memory crashed into me like a tidal wave.

I frowned, hearing shouting. Papà’s and Mamma’s. I’d never heard them yell before. Glancing over, I found my sister sound asleep. Not wanting to wake her, I slid out of the bed, careful not to shift it too much. Phoenix’s other senses were sharper than mine. Mamma said it compensated for her loss of hearing.

My heart racing in my chest, I tiptoed down the stairs in my nightgown and followed the loud voices to Papà’s library. The home was dark. Cold, even in the summer. Everywhere I looked was drafty and ancient. Our family didn’t belong in this home.

Each step I took brought me closer to the shouting. Papà sounded angry. Mamma cried loudly.