Page 5 of The Enforcer’s Revenge (Untamed Hearts #4)

“Hit rock bottom. You’ll understand,” Nova assured him. “I spent several years ignoring that my brother was being tortured and sold on the black market while I was rolling my ass off. I think I’m gonna skip the molly.”

Tino was sorry he asked because he had his own little habit to worry about, and he tried not to think about rock bottom.

Not to mention, Nova’s flippant mention of those terrible years for Tino made his stomach knot to the point that he felt sick.

He could feel the icy sweat break out on his body.

He rubbed at his forehead and looked away to hide it.

“I’m sorry,” Nova whispered in the next second, as if he noticed how much one simple statement could still affect Tino.

“Huh?” Tino feigned innocence, hiding the sick feeling and giving his brother a confused look so he wouldn’t know how much little things like that still got to him. “What’re you sorry for?”

Nova studied him, as if trying to judge if Tino was faking it or not, and obviously decided not to risk it as he shook his head. “Nothing.”

If all else fails, play stupid—it worked every time.

Tino looked back to the stage, watching Brianna dance so he could forget the terrible memories that were churning in the back of his mind. After a few minutes, he had to say, “Have I told you how firm her ass is?”

“No, not that I remember,” Nova said in Italian without his usual sarcasm, even though Tino didn’t need Nova’s memory to know he’d told his brother more than once exactly how firm Brianna’s ass was. Nova set his phone aside and said, “So, tell me. I like details.”

“It feels so fucking good in my hands,” Tino confessed, fully aware Nova was humoring him.

“I just wanna bite it. I wanna get on my knees and bite it and lick it and worship her until she’s sweaty and begging me to fuck her.

Is that a Siciliano thing? I wanna hear it.

I want her to be so wet it makes a sound when I fuck her hard.

Do you like it like that? Or is it just me? ’Cause, God, I fucking love it.”

“Nah, I like it.” Nova gave him a guilty smile. “If I can hear it, I can remember it, so trust me, I’m a big fan of the sounds women make.” Then he switched back to English and confessed, “That’s sorta my thing—listening, watching—that’s what gets me off.”

“You like it sweaty,” Tino pressed with a smirk. “Dirty.”

“I like sex any way I can get it. I’m not picky, not about that, but if I’m choosing?” Nova shrugged. “Sweaty, dirty, and loud is preferable.”

Tino couldn’t hide his wide, amused smile. “I knew you liked it salty like the rest of us.”

For some reason, it was kinda okay that Nova didn’t think Tino was stupid and oblivious, like everyone else saw him.

Instead, Nova saw through the act to recognize that Tino was hurting, and he was willing to sit there and let him talk about something else to keep the demons at bay.

Tino wasn’t so embarrassed anymore. If Nova wanted to help him, Tino wanted to let him, and it was good for both of them.

So, Tino talked about Brianna, and Nova listened.

The great thing about having ADHD was that Tino usually forgot the bad shit if properly distracted, and Brianna was always his favorite distraction. By the time the set ended and the DJ started playing music, Tino had forgotten about Mary and the years of abuse he endured.

Carina got to him first, maybe because she was on roller skates for reasons only she understood.

Not blades either, but old-school roller skates that should’ve ended with her taking out at least twenty partiers before she got to the couch.

Instead, people parted for her like they knew it was either move or eat tile.

“Tell me happy birthday!” she called in Italian as she skated up to them.

“ Buon compleanno! ” Tino shouted obediently as he jumped up on the couch and held out his arms. Carina leaped at him despite the roller skates, obviously knowing he’d catch her, and he did.

He held her off her feet and placed a kiss on her cheek.

He went on in Italian, “My baby sister’s finally turning twenty. I love you.”

“A whole three weeks after you,” she told him with a wide smile because the two of them were less than a month apart in age, thanks to their father, who was apparently good at multitasking when it came to wives and girlfriends.

“I love you too.” Carina was obviously so high on life that she kicked Nova with her roller skate while still clinging to Tino and demanded, “Wish me a happy birthday, stronzo .”

“Buon compleanno.” Nova spared Carina a side glance away from his phone.

If Tino wasn’t stone-cold sober, he would’ve thought he imagined the smile tugging at Nova’s lips, but then his brother said, “Just do me a favor, princess. Can you try not to burn the house down and save me the fucking headache with your nonno?”

And all was right with the world again.

“What’s my motivation?” Carina asked, as if burning the house down was a possibility.

Nova gave Carina his full attention. He considered her for a moment and then said loudly over the music, “I’ll make you a deal. Keep it standing, and I’ll talk him into signing it over to you as a birthday present.”

“No shit.” Carina slipped out of Tino’s arms and landed on the tile without busting her ass in her skates. “You’d do that?”

Nova raised his eyebrows pointedly. “If it’s still standing.”

“Why?” Carina scowled at him, like she didn’t dare trust it. “What’s in it for you?”

Nova shrugged. “We need this property to stay intact. It’s important for business, and we will all hear it if it burns down. I have enough fucking problems.”

Carina tilted her head and said, “Maybe it has nothing to do with Nonno. Maybe you’re just being nice.”

“If you wanna believe that, go ahead.” Nova looked back to his phone.

“Maybe it’s for business. Or maybe you care,” she taunted, though Tino thought he heard a strain of longing in her voice that made that constant pain in his chest grow a little more as Carina said in a sing-song voice, “Maybe you love me, even if you don’t want to.”

Like any good Moretti, she sensed the weakness and went for Nova’s jugular. Nova looked up at her again, and Tino could almost sense something cutting and harsh coming out of his brother. Nova would have to say it, even if a small part of him didn’t want to.

“Hey, where’s my girl?” Tino hit Carina’s shoulder as he jumped down off the couch.

“Huh?” Carina turned back to Tino, looking a little dazed.

“Where’s Bri? How’d you lose her in the five minutes since you got off stage?”

“She’s changing.” Carina still seemed lost. “Going undercover like we did for Lola.”

“You did that?” Tino asked with a smile. “You invited Lola?”

“Yeah.” Carina shrugged. “It’s my birthday.” She looked back to Nova and arched an eyebrow in the same distinct way Nova always did, making it blatantly obvious they were siblings, whether Nova wanted them to be or not. “Everyone’s supposed to be happy on my birthday.”

“Hey, I love you,” Tino repeated, this time in English, and hugged her again. Then he kissed the top of her head because even in skates, she was still way shorter than he was. “Go find Bri and a bottle of something good, and we’ll do a shot with you for hitting twenty.”

Carina looked to Nova again, but he was back to staring at his phone, so she shrugged again. “Okay.”

Tino watched her skate away as the lights pulsed until she disappeared into the red smoke, then he turned back to his brother and sat back on the couch. He picked up Carlo’s Beretta on the coffee table and checked the safety for no other reason than needing something to do with his hands.

“Are you really going to get the old man to sign this place over to her?” Tino finally asked in Italian.

Nova just shrugged the same way Carina had, rather than say anything.

There were times, even now, when it struck Tino how bizarrely similar some of Carina’s and Nova’s mannerisms were, considering they weren’t raised together.

It made Tino wonder if that was one of the reasons it was easier for Tino to love Carina.

“For real, Casanova, you think the old man would give it to her? You can’t promise her things like that and not follow through with it.

That shit hurts her, and she’s never done anything to you,” Tino reminded him for what had to be the millionth time.

“If you’re fucking with her about this, I’m going to have a massive issue with that.

If this is some sort of power play to make the old man look like an asshole to her or make Carina look like a spoiled brat to him, that’s fucking bullshit.

You hurt her on purpose on her birthday and?—”

“It’s my house,” Nova cut him off before Tino had to say out loud the lengths he’d go to protect Carina.

“We don’t put everything in the old man’s name.

The Borgata has to spread the wealth a little, and this one belongs to me.

I get to sign it over to whoever I want.

If I say she can have it, then I mean it. ”

Tino gaped at him.

He couldn’t find his voice for a long time but finally choked out, “Why?”

Maybe Nova would’ve answered, but Tino never found out. The music skidded to a stop, making that horrible scratching sound that happened when someone fucked up a DJ’s mix. There was a rasp of whispering, harsh and demanding, even if Tino couldn’t make out the actual words.

“Hello, motherfuckers!” Carina was back on the stage, still in her skates. Several guys from her band were working on pulling the cords out of the way while Carina turned on her heel and started skating backward as she asked the crowd, “Miss me?”

The room exploded with noise as everyone screamed in response, making it obvious they had indeed missed her even if she’d only left the stage five minutes ago.

“Don’t get your hopes up.” She waved down everyone’s excitement.

“I’m here with a few important announcements from the administration.

One, this house is sacred ground. I don’t care how loaded you are, if you puke, you'd better clean it up. If you can’t handle that, find a designated sober friend right now and make sure they keep your ass in line.

No joke, you fuck up this house, and someone’s finding you.

Don’t think we won’t know, ’cause we know everything. ”

“Subtle,” Nova said when the entire room fell deathly silent in fear, like everyone was waiting for a mafia hitman to come after them for breathing on a lamp wrong.

It was extra unfortunate because it felt like they were all looking at Tino and Nova, who just happened to have Carlo’s small arsenal of weapons still sitting in front of them.

“Pissing off the family is no joke,” Carina went on.

“ Merda .” Nova closed his eyes as if he couldn’t believe Carina just said family out loud like it was a thing.

Mafia didn’t name themselves.

Not in public.

They didn’t even say mafia. It was always just Cosa Nostra— Our Thing —and even that was whispered unless Carina had the microphone.

“Say hi to my brother.” Carina pointed to the couch, like she knew everyone was looking at them.

“Oh my God,” Nova said with wide eyes as he looked to Tino because they both knew she was talking about him. “Does she want me in lock-up?”

Tino did the only thing he could think of. He jumped up on the couch again, this time climbing onto the arm. Now he stood head and shoulders over the rest of the crowd and held out his arms like they’d planned it.

People all screamed again, and Tino grinned because Carina wasn’t the only one who gained followers easily. He could be charming if he wanted to be. “She’s not joking.” He made sure his voice carried. “I will find you motherfuckers if you fuck up her house.”

“Next important announcement,” Carina cut in, a smile sounding in her voice, “everyone has fun on my birthday. No exceptions.”

“Good, clean fun!” Tino added from his side of the room.

Now everyone was shouting again, laughing, the tension in the room breaking as easily as it started.

“Everyone!” Carina added one more time, like she wanted it heard. “So, for the baddest motherfucker I know…”

Big Pimpin’ by Jay Z started playing, and the room exploded. It was so cheesy, so fucking Carina, and the crowd loved it. Tino went ahead and shooed everyone back, and then he did a front tuck because why the fuck not.

It was an impressive trick. That was why he did it. It sucked all the attention off Nova, and it took a while for Tino to break away from the crowd, half of whom were rolling on ecstasy that made them extra touchy-feely.

When he finally did, he saw that Nova’s shoulders were shaking with mirth. His face was in his hands as the song blared. Everyone in the room thought it was for Tino, but only a few people knew it was much more Nova.

“Everyone has fun on my birthday,” Carina reminded them once more as she skated up to the couch. She set four shot glasses down on the table in front of Carlo’s guns. She filled up the first glass, the one closest to Nova, and demanded rather than asked, “Two, one for each decade.”

“What happens if I don’t?” Nova asked with an arch of his eyebrow. “Someone gives you a microphone?”

She arched an eyebrow back at him. “Exactly. Now drink it.”

Nova picked up the shot glass and downed it. He didn’t even wince, even though it was tequila and there wasn’t lime or salt in sight. Carina shouted, and so did half the crowd watching. Tino did, too, and Nova was taking his second shot when someone jumped on Tino’s back.

He wrapped his hands around her instinctively, holding her there because he’d know Brianna anywhere.

“Hey, sexy,” she whispered in his ear. “Miss me?”

He forced her tighter into him, feeling her small, firm tits against his shoulder blades. “You have no fucking idea,” he confessed with a groan he couldn’t hide. “I was just telling my brother all the dirty, perverted things I’m gonna do to you tonight.”

Brianna laced her fingers into his hair, and Tino let her jerk his head back with another groan. She looked at him with a wide, green gaze behind the mask she was wearing as she asked, “What sorta dirty, perverted things?” rather than be offended he’d been confessing his plans to Nova.

Brianna was great about that; she liked Tino just as he was—big, with an Italian mouth and all.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he said and stuck his tongue out.

Brianna licked it playfully and then bit his bottom lip to make her point. “You wanna show me instead?”

“Hell yes,” Tino confessed as he completely forgot about Nova and Carina’s temporary truce. “Dance with me, naughty girl.”