Page 7 of Raziel

I often wondered why she loved me when I barely liked her.

We shared few loving moments.

We played together as kids, but only because we had to.

Went to the same schools, but ran in different circles.

I couldn’t recall ever choosing her. Ever asking her to linger in my shadow. She was just… there. A constant.

Maybe she loved me because her mother told her to.

And she was nothing if not obedient.

I knew why Maya liked me.

She had an addictive personality—the kind that lands you in rehab before you’re old enough to drink. She craved danger. Thrived on it.

She was drawn to things—and people—that were bad for her.

And I was just another one of her vices. A habit she couldn’t kick.

A part of me didn’t want her to.

She liked that I never asked her to be anything but what she was—wild, restless, always hungry.

She didn’t want safety.

She wanted freedom.

And someone who would answer with violence if anyone tried to take it away from her.

I could be that.

Would be that. If not for Alessia.

I got into bed. Alessia curled against me like always—head on my chest, hand flat on my stomach. I resisted the urge to pull away.

I didn’t hate her.

I just didn’t want to spend the rest of my life with her.

I thought I’d escaped when I left New York for Florida.

But she followed.

And I couldn’t stop her. Her father was Capo of a powerful Staten Island family, and I’d given up the kind of power it would take to refuse him outright—at least not without my father’s backing. And I’d never ask him for that.

Alessia’s mother had been my mom’s best friend. They arranged our marriage when we were barely old enough to talk.

Before she died, my mother made me promise I’d take care of Alessia.

And for her, I was nothing if not obedient.

So I showed up when her father called.

I’d rather build his empire than inherit my own.

My father had his own legacy—land, money, power. A family name older than most countries. He tried to give it all to me. I rejected it. This was my rebellion.