Page 75 of Thorns of Death

“Nice to meet you both.” I reached over and extended my hand for a handshake. They both hesitated for a second. It was Amadeo who took it first, then Enzo followed. “You’re brothers, right?” They nodded. “How old are you?”

“I’m thirteen,” Amadeo answered.

“I’m fourteen,” Enzo supplied. “I’m going to be head of the Marchetti family one day.”

I raised my eyebrow, surprised at the offhanded comment. “Congratulations, I guess.” My eyes darted to Amadeo. “Does that bother you?”

Amadeo shrugged. “Not really. I’ll be the hitman for ourfamiglia.” My mouth parted in shock and my eyes bulged out of my skull, causing both of them to chuckle. “Aren’t you in the mafia?” Amadeo asked.

I scoffed. “Well, as a matter of fact, I just learned my brother is.”

Something, I realized, that would have been helpful to know when we’d needed to figure out a way out of that mess all those years ago. But no, my girlfriends and I had to fumble through Google and Reddit for “hypothetical” ways to dispose of a body.

“Sometimes men keep women in the dark,” Enzo said knowingly.

“To protect you. It’s for your own good,” Amadeo chimed in.

These little shits,I thought with affection. I couldn’t even hold their confidence against them. They’d had to grow up in the mafia with a mother who regularly tried to kill them and a father who was… I searched for the right word. The only thing my bitter, frustrated brain could think of waslying bastard. Yeah, they needed all the confidence they could get.

Seeing these two boys holding each other up in support had me thinking of my own brother. I loved him and would always be grateful for everything he’d done for me growing up, but he should have told me. Warned me. It wasn’t something I should have learned from anyone else. Even Tatiana knew. Shit, why did it have to hurt so much? Even more importantly, why did he do it? But I wouldn’t be finding the answer to that by sitting here in this room.

“Don’t hold it against your family,” Enzo added. “It’s our job to protect our own.”

I scoffed incredulously. “Ease up, you two. Don’t act all high and mighty. Girls hate that about boys.”

Enzo puffed his chest. “They think they do, but girls want to be bossed around.”Okay, little Enrico, I mocked in my head. He had it all wrong, just like his father. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

My eyebrows shot up at his question. Or maybe it was his audacity. “Why?”

He shrugged, his eyes traveling over me. “You’re hot. Not beautiful, exactly, but hot.” Geez, this was getting better and better. “Maybe I’ll marry you.”

“Okay, lover boy. Hold your horses,” I croaked. Jesus, what was it with Italian men? Maybe it was part of the elementary school curriculum to teach boys about the art of seduction. Well, Enzo must have missed the class. “You’re too young for me.”

“I don’t mind.”

“I bet you don’t,” I muttered. “By the way, don’t think I haven’t noticed what you’re doing.”

Something flashed in Enzo’s dark gaze, and I realized his eyes weren’t dark brown like I’d initially thought. They were dark blue, like a midnight sky. Amadeo’s were more like his father’s.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Enzo blanched, his expression turning nonchalant as if he didn’t have a care in the world. It was his armor. I didn’t know much about kids, but I’d bet he hid all his emotions somewhere deep.

“You’re avoiding talking about your mother,” I remarked, keeping my tone soft. “And you think flirting with me will distract me.” He didn’t say anything. “Am I right?”

Both boys shrugged, and for some reason, I felt so damn sorry for them. I knew what it meant to grow up without the love of a mother. And while I had my brothers, they’d both been very busy and didn’t have the woman’s touch that I often observed with other girls my age and their mothers.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured softly. “But remember, your father loves you. Your family loves you.” It was easier to comfort them than think about my own problems. They deserved the world.

“Our mother is not important,” Amadeo answered.

I tilted my head, studying them both.

“Your mother’s mentally unwell. I’m sure she cares about you. I’m sorry you had to experience it,” I told him. “I never met my mother, but she’s important to me. I don’t know if she even loved me, but still, she’s important to me. It doesn’t make you weak to care about her.”

“She doesn’t care about us,” Enzo said coldly. It was scary, but I could see his father in him. “We don’t care about her.”

“Does your father know?” I asked quietly.

Both boys shrugged. “That she’s trying to kill us?” Amadeo asked. I gulped, then nodded slowly in answer. I didn’t think I could find my voice. “Yes, Papà knows. He’s been protecting us from her.” Amadeo tilted his head, the look in his eyes pensive. He looked so much older than his thirteen years at this moment. “Papà said deep down she loves us.”